I cut a birthday cake last week. Someone clicked a picture. The physical form, though battered by age, still bears some resemblance to the person I was decades ago.
I wonder if the people who knew me then would recognise me without this shell. When I meet old acquaintances and talk about times gone by, I’m not able to tell them I cannot relate to those things, despite memory.
whispered gratitude,
but the oak disowns its shell
change is survival
I have distanced myself – having adapted, grown and transcended the jiggly foundations. It’s a paradox of identity – life demands both a connection with ancestry and a break from it to prove your worth.
roots honour the seed,
yet branches climb past the past
evolution ascends
Creative Experiments and More 
A wonderful haibun. I especially like your haiku — this line in particular “ yet branches climb past the past“
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I think overcoming the past is your biggest achievement in life.
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If youth only knew, if age only could.
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True. There is another saying – “Youth is folly, adulthood is regret and old age is regret.”
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I think life is about transformation, and I find that many of my old friends have transformed as well (but not in the same direction)… apparently I should probably play golf instead of walking and thinking.
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Transformation does happen, and friends/family do not grow in the same direction. International mobility has created distances.
I also hear a lot about “grey divorces”.
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The haiku gives a punch to the Haibun.
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Thank you!
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You’re welcome
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I am not the same woman, I was when I was younger, we learn to be strong.
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🙌😍
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Your haibun resonated with me, Reena. I wish you a belated happy birthday. I won’t be having a cake, but a meal with my sister; my husband might take a photo, and I’ll think about your words: ‘The physical form, though battered by age, still bears some resemblance to the person I was decades ago.’ I agree about the paradox of identity.
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Thanks a ton, Kim! Wishing you a great celebration!
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Thank you, Reena!
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Reena, this writing need to reach to people. That simultaneous honoring and leaving. The body in the photo is your history; your consciousness is your evolution. And both are real. Both matter. The paradox you articulate, that you need both connection to ancestry AND a break from it, that’s the whole truth. Roots honor the seed. But branches must reach past what the seed knew. That’s not betrayal. That’s fidelity to becoming. The oak that disowns its shell isn’t abandoning itself. It’s surviving itself. Extraordinary wisdom.
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Thanks for reading it with so much depth! You made my day.
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