Metaphors are helpful for understanding the ins and outs of life and/or help us explain ourselves to others. I love metaphors.
This certainly isn’t my intellectual property, but the old adage, “you can’t see the forest for the trees” has been extremely helpful throughout my relationship with the boyfriend.
The forest is made up of trees so they aren’t unimportant. If most of your situation — often in the context of my thinking, my relationships — is made up of “bad” trees, the forest isn’t really worth staying in, is it? However, running into a thorny bush or dead tree from time-to-time isn’t an indication that the forest is an unlovely place in which to build a cabin.
The forest with my husband is a peaceful and pleasant though, often, uninspiring place. The sun shines brightly there, through well spaced trees. The ground is level and sweetly moss covered. It’s a lovely place through which to stroll and enjoy the delight and comfort to the senses of our simpler natures.
The forest with my boyfriend has stunning views upon majestic summits and miraculous displays of our astoundingly complex and thrill-seeking natures, but to get to those spots we’ve had to sweat through some steep, dark, and foreboding climbs over root and rock laden forest floors where the faint of heart dare not traverse.
We’ve both learned to endearingly label our trials as “trees” in an otherwise brilliant forest. Don’t get me wrong, there have been some gnarly bushes and branches to turn into brush. We’ve both endured cuts, bumps, and bruises from the work, but the forest has generally been a satisfying and enjoyable place in which to be.
The trick is to see the forest. If the forest is ugly, dark, and scary, get out because you don’t want to die there. But, if the forest is generally pleasant and/or beautiful, that occasional dead wood is just kindling for the woodstove in your cabin.