Transformation through sacrifice

THE SEED MUST DIE FOR THE TREE TO RISE

In history, as has been in nature, in the fight for justice, in a movement for change, the death of one has always been the birth of many more. When a seed lies buried, small, insignificant, and alone. To the untrained and unknowledgable, it appears lifeless, a mere husk of what once was, but deep within its brittle shell is life unseen, a quiet revolution, a surrender that births something greater. For the seed to become what it was meant to be, it must first let go of itself. It must break. It must die.

There seems to be quietness, the earth presses in, heavy and suffocating, grains of sand cast heavy shadows of darkness. Moisture softens the shell, weakening its walls until, at last, it splits. The death of the seed is not an end but a necessary undoing, the shattering of one form to make way for another. All the darkness and harshness was needed, a tender shoot emerges, it rises, it breaks through, coming towards the light just above the earth. Roots begin to stretch downward, anchoring as the stem reaches to the sky, unfolding into leaves, branches, and in time, a towering tree.

What was once a single, dormant seed now stands as a testament to resurrection, a life that could only come through surrender, and death. Without the death of the seed, the tree cannot be. The seed does not mourn the seed, it embodies its purpose. In the same way, every transformation demands a letting go. To cling is to remain small, confined. To break open, to yield, is to rise stronger, fuller, alive in ways the seed could never have imagined.

To become who we are meant to be, we must be ready to let go, to sacrifice, to face our own undoing, the crumbling of old ways, the release of what we hold dear, and cherish, the things that once defined us. Only then can we grow, only then can we rise, only then can we bear fruits, only then can we become strong to stand tall and serve others.

To a better you, Kamikun John.