Image taken 24 February 2026.
I took this photograph a few days ago on a walk close to where I live. A lone tree surrounded by life; woods, fields, wild animals, a few humans and an abundance of life, both above and below ground.
I wondered if the tree still lived or if it had already died. I wondered if the moss growing on its bark spoke to it, comforted the rings of wood beneath, could hear the rush of nutrients sucked through its xylem. I wondered if it could feel me staring at it, wondering, are you real? I wondered if the tree would be there the next day or if it would be felled, removed and transported to some unknown location.
Like this tree, I wonder, is what we are experiencing now real?
It is a question that comes to mind daily as I read the news, watch the world and listen for signs of hope, both within and outside of my small space. Each day brings some new revelation that forces me to think whether what I observe is real or just another attempt to distract me from a truth more real than the tree I photographed a few days ago. I wonder whether I am now in a world intent on moving my gaze away from where I should focus my attention so that it rests in the madness that invades each day, instead of in a truth that lies just beyond my grasp.
Then I look to those I love and care about and hope I do not take this all as given. That I savour these moments spent together and vow to seek out news of daily marvels, of people and places across the globe.
There are signs of spring in this part of the world where I live. Snow drops thrust their green leaves just above ground and small delicate white flowers open up to greet the day. I know that I am fortunate to witness this and other miracles because the rest is too painful, too absurd, too much to hold.
This month, I cross over into a new decade of life. I cannot imagine what the next 10 years will be until February 2036. So, just for today, I will acknowledge that this moment is real.
Patricia Angoy 
It’s always a pleasure to read your thoughts, Patricia. Always, thought provoking if also painful to contemplate.
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Thank you Michaela
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Firstly Happy Birthday!
Just for today is a great statement of intent and often gets me through a Monday 😊
But today on my nephews birthday, I am like you, reflecting on those that I love and the beautiful memories we share together. This is what gives me hope in what is a painful and unjust world at times.
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Hello Karen,
Thanks for your good wishes and mine for your nephew. I do agree that this is “a painful and unjust world at times”
Take heart, Patricia
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What an insightful and beautiful post, Patty. It reminds us of the need to find and retain our place of hope and presence. Hope sits like an island, surrounded by a sea of turbulence, intolerance, and despair that threatens to wash the island of hope away. But we need to stay rooted in our sanctuary of hope and in the enjoyment of what we have and see. To live in the NOW, rather than drown in some other place that removes our focus.
Yesterday, I started my day with a PT session. I’d felt tired and fearful before, but surprised myself in being able to complete the full hour and to push myself further than I expected. I felt a sense of achievement and joy. I later spent the afternoon with a new friend, who will join the board of trustees of a small charity I chair. Her insights were enriching and illuminating. She’d lived such an interesting life and had so much enthusiasm for the future. I was able to just sit and enjoy what we have now.
Congratulations to you, from your sister, Susan. 😍
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Thank you so much Susan. It is always so reassuring when your own family can see into your writing and it mean something special. I am not without hope, as you know, but I am equally aware that there is much work to be done towards a future we will not witness. However, living in the now for the future is possible.
Good luck with your new PT and friendships. I have always admired your energy and thirst for life.
Patricia
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Now, this is one of your briefest blog entries yet so dense! I had to reread this. I admire how your blogs tend to pay homage and tribute to environment. And I always wonder your process of writing. Does is it get inspired by observing the environment or does she have an idea and then listen to the environment. I am in SLC, UTAH waiting for my connecting flight to start a new life as well. Is it real? and if I am a tree, what surrounds me? enough nutrients for sustenance? and how about next trees and next ones that make up this forest?
“…I wonder whether I am now in a world intent on moving my gaze away from where I should focus my attention…”. This is so powerful and should be enshrined in quotes of this era. And how can we truly know where to look, and what is the definition of a choice. It reminds of one of the TOK questions that IB paused in November 2019. “To produce knowledge just observe and then write down what you observe. Discuss the effectiveness of this strategy in two areas of knowledge?” Do we really just observe or there is more to it. And what does observation [gaze] mean?
Thank you very much for your kind and inspiring words,
Francisco
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Francisco, you always read with such depth and reveal my own writing back to me. That is a gift! You will be well on your way to your new post by now, and I know that your patients will be calmed by your voice, your warmth and your depth of knowledge and understanding of pain, their pain and struggle. You are a strong, resilient tree, very much alive and I hope thriving in this world of ours. I know you will see with more than your eyes and discover what your ‘gaze’ means. Thank you always, Patricia
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