“Let your leaves drop gradually along the way,” the voice whispers.
I walk by this wall often. During springtime it’s covered with tiny green leaves. As summer nears, the branches and leaves grow, hiding the wall’s imperfections. In the fall, the leaves turn orange, then red, eventually flying away with the wind. Like this wall, I too cover my imperfections. But my leaves will only fall of their own accord once – when I’m no longer around. Still, I can shed them voluntarily if I so choose. I’ve only come to appreciate this possibility recently. There’s nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. There’s beauty in genuine nakedness. And I live in a world of perfect imperfections.