“Don’t let today’s disappointments cast a shadow on tomorrow’s dreams.” ~Unknown
For the past few days, I have been thinking about my orange tree. Every year, we ignore it completely, and it generously gives us bounteous amounts of sweet oranges. It is so very forgiving of our utter lack of support.
Yet this year, the oranges are bitter; even the squirrels toss them away.
Right now, the tree has oranges on the branches and fresh new blooms all over it, as well. I guess we should pick the oranges to make room for the new, but it hasn’t been on the to-do list yet.
What keeps occurring to me is the faith of this twenty-year-old tree. It doesn’t seem to be in mourning for the bitter oranges. It is filled with optimism about the future—abundant with sweet smelling blossoms.
I believe it isn’t questioning what it did wrong or blaming us for not being better stewards. It is just living, moving forward, and being a tree, preparing for the sweet fruit to come.
What a lesson this is for me. How often I have given all of my focus to my “bitter oranges.” How easy it has been to hold tightly to the times I have felt misunderstood, unsupported, unseen. I’ve dissected every membrane of each orange, looking for reasons, for answers, for justification.
A business relationship that failed, broken apart by different expectations and a lack of honest communication. A family relationship frayed by differing values. A friend who discounts my viewpoint. I have so tightly held to my hurt, my indignation, my shame. I filled my basket with these bitter oranges and carried them with me everywhere I traveled. A heavy load, indeed.
I have not noticed that all around me are new blooms, ready to make new oranges. I could not see the possibilities of new relationships, based on what I had learned from the past.
I could not separate my love for my family from my feelings of being seen as wrong. I didn’t meet the new friends, ready to offer support and fun; I was too busy being wounded—holding my bitter oranges. I have not noticed that there are so many more new blooms than there is bitter fruit.
The bitter oranges are history, and who really cares? The sweet white soft buds of beginnings are the future and that is what I choose to care about. Their soft perfumed fragrance calls to me and lifts my spirit, reminding me of delicious things still to come.
I’m so glad I have such a sage living in my back yard, ready to teach. I just need to be quiet and listen. And maybe honor it by removing the bitter oranges!
Photo by Ronnie Mcdonald

About Karen Mead
Karen Mead is an alchemist, an explorer and a fellow traveler on this journey of life. Visit her blog, The Peaceful Journey , or check out her website, A Peaceful Path .
Love this: “I filled my basket with these bitter oranges and carried them with me everywhere I traveled. A heavy load, indeed.”
It reminds me of the zen story of the two monks that Eckart Tolle recounts in A New Earth. “I put the girl down hours ago. Are you still carrying her?”
WOW ~ what an incredible analogy with the sage in the backyard orange tree story!
it sparked memories of the true meanings of all the fruit trees we had growing in our yard
when i was a teen in washington state with so many blossoms, and oftentimes offering sweet fruit,
but sometimes yielding bitter or blighted fruit.
hope the fragrance of forgiveness ~ for others, for yourself ~ envelops you too.
~sarahneanbruce.wordpress.com
when the pupil is ready the teacher will appear, thank you this lesson is so made for me today,
Great article. Thank you!
http://bit.ly/aFVsqF
Thank you for sharing that bit of wisdom. It was exactly what I needed right now.
… and once in a long time the tree bears no fruit at all, yet miraculously blossoms again.
[…] Letting Go and Moving On: Lessons for an Orange Tree (tinybuddha.com) […]
i just wrote a little article/review on this post. thanks for the inspiration~sb
http://sarahneanbruce.wordpress.com/2010/10/26/w-o-w-the-yin-and-yang-of-bearing-fruit/
just now I have a bitter orange, the coffee machine in my floor gives a horrible coffee.
the coffee in other floor is better, and I go there.. this horrible lady said the I can not use her coffee machine.. I said inside me … whaaattt? look at her, and inside me what a bitter lady.. poor lady… why one person can be like that? bitter with a person that hardly know because a coffee .. when I read your post remind me what it happend to me 🙂 a good post
thank you…i shall held my head high n face the world!indeed,life is beautiful~!
I was fortunate to live near several orange groves in Arizona for over 15 years…. I will never forget the incredible scent from the orange blossoms in bloom, it was as if the entire area had been sprayed with the most appealing air-freshener you’ve ever smelled…. I kept my windows open for weeks, just basking in the awesome fragrance. When spring came, and our city smelled so good, it always reminded me of the “new” season…. time to consider all that has passed over the winter, and time to anticipate the excitement of summer…. oh, do I ever miss living near citrus trees!!! I’m too far north to have any or I’d want one of every kind!! Nothing beats fresh-squeezed orange juice in the morning!!
Great post! My mom also has an old orange tree that gives the best oranges I’ve ever had, twice a year, like clockwork, with almost no care. The old ones drop and go into the ground to feed the tree (maybe a metaphor for the lesson we learn from the past that inform our choices in the future), but the tree doesn’t cling to them or mourn them. Thanks for this!
-Melissa
I enjoyed this very much, look forward to reading more. Thank You
[…] Letting Go and Moving On: Lessons from an Orange Tree […]
i meant to click on a different article, but the slideshow registered my mouse on this article. divine intervention i think, because THIS is actually the article i needed to read today, no doubt about it. thank you so much for this reinforcement of an important lesson.
PS-i loved this piece and wrote an article post on my blogsite about it! http://sarahneanbruce.wordpres…/ i received a lot of feedback from family, friends and fans, too. love your writings! cheers~sarah
[…] Letting Go and Moving On: Lessons from an Orange Tree […]
Take a bow! Well written, thank you.
 REALLY???
Well written. Thank you ma’am.
An old spiritualist lady often used to say to me “look to nature for your answers” I’m seeing ( now that I’m much older and hopefully wiser) I see how right she was