Today was a leaf dance in the Woods. I had not seen anything to compare with the choreography. The fine art was so precious that I wished I could watch it forever. Of course, that will not happen. Soon, the leaves will all be on the Earth. The winter snow will come as a blanket for their slumber. So it goes for our human family as well. We shoot up through the soil and grow like a weed. Our branches reach toward heaven. Our roots dig deep in our sense of place. We toil and travail. Anxious for many things, we worry if all will be well. Will we succeed? Will we fail in our quest? Is there an escalator, or do we have to climb the ladder? Is the path every man for himself, or shall we help the weak and fallen? The leaves danced merrily as the classical Christmas music played. Their role in the great performance of life was concluded for the theatrical season. They had played their part well. There was much reason to bob and dance in the cool fall air.

Here we are on the walk of mystery. Never knowing what is around the corner. We look behind a lot. Is something catching up to us? What have we missed in the journey to the Secret? Were we daydreaming when the instructions were given? Those of us who appear to have it all together are often falling apart. We focus on appearances rather than substance. How do we look when we face the world? Do we have our masks on properly? ‘How are you?’ the Friend asked. ‘I am good and full of zeal for the journey,’ Masked Man says. ‘The constant smile of the mask reveals my success in life,’ Masked Man explains. ‘I have higher education and a six-figure income,’ Masked Man notes with some pride. ‘I worked hard to get to the pinnacle,’ Masked Man says with a wink that can not be seen for the static mask. ‘I did not want to be like my parents, who worked in service and thought not of higher goals,’ Masked Man said. ‘They wanted better for me and I fulfilled their expectations,’ Masked Man assured. ‘Now I am old and my degrees mean little as I shuffle to the grave,’ Masked Man beamoaned.

The neighbor’s cat walked languidly to the house. The cat thought of dinner and the occasional mouse. He worried not what tomorrow would bring.

‘Health is a bitch when you do not have it,’ Sick Woman said. ‘My son counts on me and I wonder if I will be there to provide for him,’ the Sick Woman worried. ‘When hope and success are at their zenith, illness comes in to spoil,’ the Sick Woman noted. ‘My colleagues scamper about me, wondering if they have on the right outfit or are in line for the next promotion, while I worry about life,’ SW said. ‘What does my journey mean in the grand performance?’ Sick Woman asked.

‘I am the CEO and a self-made man,’ Captain of Industry said. ‘My wiles have brought me this far,’ Captain said. ‘While others were enjoying their families, I was building a company that could not be destroyed,’ Captain noted. ‘I worked 18-hour days and often around the clock to gain millions of dollars,’ Captain proclaimed. ‘There were many who did not succeed in my company, but it was on account of laziness and sloth,’ Captain explained. ‘Now I have gained the prize and no one is watching,’ Captain whispered.

The leaves swirled in the wind in unusual patterns. At times they fell in mass, other times just one or two. They seemed to dance arbitrarily. Yet there was a method to the performance. The Woods were quiet except for the sound of the wind. The conductor was conducting. The leaves knew their part.