I’m cutting. And cutting. Cutting back to allow for new growth. Cutting to stop wasting energy. To stop momentum going in the wrong direction, to the wrong place, at the wrong time.
It’s hard to find the right place to cut because there so much and it’s all tangled up. It’s hard to know which bit is which. Which bit belongs, and which bit has been incorporated, assimilated, wound around. Which bit is strangling, cutting off the roots, the strong bit, the heart of it? It’s tricky to find a way through, to pull back and unwind, but it’s got to be done, sooner or later. It’s for the best; to prune to allow new growth for the next season, whenever that is. It’s time to conserve and focus that vitality, to direct it in the right way instead of trying to fend off, fit in, twist or bend.
Some parts are hollow where the cut is made. I wonder how long they have been growing so empty, just the shell giving an appearance of willingness, abundance. Nothing inside anymore.