Moving without moving

Every morning when I look out my window, I see a tree—not too big, not too small. It changes with the seasons. In winter, it lets its leaves fall. In summer, it grows new ones to meet the sun. On stormy days, when strong winds blow, it bends and sways but never breaks.

That tree is my role model. I’ve watched it stand tall, flexible, and patient through every kind of weather. It shows up every day—whether under bright skies or heavy rain—offering shade, clean air, and a home for birds that come and go. It contributes quietly, never asking for anything in return.

Sometimes, in my rush to move forward, I forget to notice whether I’m actually contributing where I am. Am I flexible enough to adapt? Have I provided rest or comfort to those around me? Every time I see the tree, it reminds me to pause—to reflect on my values and direction.

The tree moves, but it doesn’t go anywhere. It doesn’t move forward in distance, but it deepens its roots while reaching for the sky. I’ve come to believe that direction matters more than speed. Perhaps success is just a simple equation: direction plus endurance.