One phone call showed me how life can change completely in an instant. After a routine annual physical, I received a call telling me that my white blood cell and platelet counts were abnormally low. This led to a battery of blood tests, a bone marrow biopsy, ongoing visits to a hematologist and sleepless nights filled with anxiety.
Abnormal blood counts like mine are a key warning sign of blood cancer, including some rare and particularly dangerous forms. Depending on the stage and type of the disease, a patient could be looking at a life span of two years or less. And the weakened immune system could leave the patient vulnerable to fatal infections at any time.
Photo: Paul Cotter
This was supposed to be a time of joyful new beginnings … not an abrupt, harsh ending.
As I processed the situation I suddenly found myself in, I couldn’t help but ask: WHY NOW? Our first grandchild, a beautiful baby girl, had just been born. After living and working in California for a few years, my wife and I were resettling back on the East Coast to be with family and the precious new addition. This was supposed to be a time of joyful new beginnings … not an abrupt, harsh ending.
Sinking in despair, I turned to my spiritual underpinning for help. I draw strength from both the Christian and Buddhist traditions, and I feel a particular connection with St. Therese of Lisieux, who vowed to spend eternity helping people on earth who need her. The Buddhists would call her a bodhisattva.
Photo: Paul Cotter
My prayer to this French Carmelite nun who died at age 24 was simple but sincere. I asked, “Please help me. If possible, please let me stay healthy so I can watch our granddaughter grow. If that’s not meant to be, please give me the strength and courage to face whatever happens.”
Like bubbles in a spring, the phrase floated effortlessly to the surface of my consciousness. I am a Leaf.
The next day, the strength I needed came in the form of a four-word mantra that was whispered in my mind: I am a Leaf. Like bubbles in a spring, the phrase floated effortlessly to the surface of my consciousness. I am a Leaf. The words brought immediate, immeasurable calm. Instinctively, without a trace of intellectual processing, I knew precisely what they meant.
Photo: Paul Cotter
My heart understood the fundamental truth: a leaf may wither and crumble, but it never truly dies. It’s part of the tree, which has a vast system of roots and branches and is much, much larger than the leaf. Every leaf that has gone before is part of the tree we see now. When a leaf falls, it nourishes the tree and in doing so it becomes a part of every leaf that follows. In this way, the leaf lives on.
As a photographer, I felt inspired to turn I am a Leaf into a personal project, photographing leaves as a way of expressing the wonder I saw in this simple gift of nature. I had no other real purpose in mind, other than to create interesting art that might end up on our walls at home. But then my wife suggested a more meaningful purpose. She said, “You should share this story. This could be helpful to other people.”
Photo: Paul Cotter
Suddenly, everything clicked. I’m not alone in facing the realities of physical change and impermanence, and I’m not alone in needing to overcome the inevitable feelings of anxiety or denial. The leaf in me wanted to share this story, in hopes that we might all find solace in our vast, wonderful interconnectedness.
Leaf Portraits
The simple, meditative “leaf portraits” above highlight the unique character of each leaf. The leaves were placed on a sheet of glass and lit from below, giving a luminescence that conveys the inner life force flowing through every being in the universe. I used leaves that were gathered and sent by friends across the country, as well as fallen leaves that I found near our home in Charlotte, NC.
A Post-script
After 18 months of testing and monitoring by a hematologist, the doctor is optimistic by what he has seen. My blood counts are below normal, but I’m not showing the typical symptoms of blood cancer, and the doctor says many factors are pointing to a much more favorable diagnosis. It appears that this little leaf may be clinging to the tree for some time to come. Whatever happens, I feel a newfound gratitude for each year, each day, each minute that I’m given.
Read Paul’s follow-up story next: Seven Lessons Learned from Leaves
Thank you for sharing this article. It really spoke to me. I love leaves and I am also a photographer. I’ve been doing a series over the last several years of portraits of leaves and feathers in nature. It has several thousand images in it. I also see leaves as a metaphor for us! Each is a unique miracle of life and a universe unto itself.
Thank you for your honest and heartfelt post. I was so inspired by your words that I felt compelled to paint a leaf painting and call it “I am a Leaf” (see my profile picture). Thank you! P
Priya, I’m delighted to hear that the article inspired you to create the beautiful leaf painting used in your profile picture. You’ve made my day. Thank you so much for sharing your artwork with us.
You so wonderfully shared how we can find gifts in adversity. I love how your prayer was answered so quickly with a beautiful mantra. Your personal story sent me to search for Joyce Kilmer’s poem “Trees.” And what jumped out to me what this phrase: “A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray.” Sending you healing prayers.
My sincerest thanks for your kind reply and your healing prayers. I was moved by the lines you quoted from that beautiful poem — they capture so nicely the deep connection between nature and the divine that I was hoping to convey. Peace and blessings to you.
Wonderfully written, and way of processing of ‘bad news’. Thank you for sharing your experience and the art of reframing. We may not be evergreens, but our lessons and legacies can be! Bless.
Dusty, I truly loved the insight you shared: “We may not be evergreens, but our lessons and legacies can be.” Beautifully put. Thank you.
Thank you, again! ??
Beautiful story, Paul. Thanks for sharing.
L’Chiam!
Thank you, Phyll. I echo your joyful toast: To Life!
Beautiful essay. Thank you Paul for sharing your story. Sending you healthy blessings and Love. Stay Strong….❤️
Thank you. Your thoughts and your blessings are very much appreciated.
Paul, what a thoughtful essay. I had a similar health experience but my diagnosis was an aggressive form of Lymphoma, stage 4. A new grandma, too. Over five years later I remain in remission. The biggest gift of the whole experience is a renewed interest in spirituality and health. Again, thank you for the gift of this essay.
Karen, thank you for sharing your experience. I’m happy to hear you’re in remission, and I share your deep sense of gratitude for each day we’re given. ~ Paul
What a simple way to reflect on such a life changing event, as we are all are going through our own struggles. A new perspective on the situation is sometimes all we need to give us a foothold on life, allowing us to see the larger implications. The beautiful photos help give a powerful visual representation we can all relate to.
Andrew, you’ve put your finger on a very key point. We will all go through struggles in life — that’s inevitable. What makes a difference is how we perceive the situation and how we react. Thank you for your reflection.
What a beautiful reflection. You remind us that when we fully embrace our “impermanence,” we open ourselves to gratitude.
Thank you. You are so right about the value of impermanence. We often tend to avoid thinking about it or we engage in denial. But as you point out, impermanence holds gifts if we remain open to receiving them.
Paul: Thank you for this inspiring essay and photographs which resonated deeply with me. Thank you, too, for reminding me about St. Therese of Lisieux.
I’m very grateful that the leaf and “The Little Flower” both found a place in your heart. Thank you for your kind words.
I very much appreciated your essay. My primary mantra is “I am a leaf on a river.” It reminds me I am a very small piece of the big picture, and my journey is largely controlled by the flow of the universe. Life may be short but the river is ancient, long, and beyond my understanding.
Thank you, Gwen. I like your river metaphor. It’s both humbling and inspiring to realize that we as individuals are so small — and yet intrinsically connected to something that is infinitely large and timeless.
Thank you for helping convert a problem into a blessing for me. Let me explain. I realized that the concept of the bodily resurrection of the saints to Glory on Judgement Day that I was taught as a young man could not be as simple as the preachers were saying. The cycle of life that you have so beautifully expressed means that I share body cells, atoms, stuff with people who lived and died before me. I illustrated it crudely – A man dies in a field and his body becomes fertilizer for grass. A cow eats the grass that includes something of the man who fertilized it. Later the cow becomes meat for a family and something of the cow and the grass and the man who died becomes part of a mother, father, two children, a dog and a cat. This has been going on for a long time so how can we possibly have bodily resurrection on Judgement Day? We’ve been sharing body essence for 1000’s of years. If 1000 of us have shared a part, who gets it in the Resurrection? I saw a problem when literally no one around me did. The problem never created a crisis for me, but today, you showed me how the problem was really a blessing. It is good to be part of the cycle of life. Thank you.
Tom, thank you for your thoughts. I’m glad my story helped you to work through some things that you’d been struggling with. My intent in sharing the story was not to impart my own theological views on anyone, or to denigrate what others might believe through their own faith. My goal was to share my experience in the hope that it might help others who may be facing a difficult trial and it might deepen our appreciation for the vast web of interconnectivity. It brings me joy to hear that the story was helpful to you. ~Paul
Dear Paul, what a beautiful essay! This is very timely for me, I am reading the book, “The Hidden Life of Trees”. The wonder of Nature leaves one in awe! Yes, everyone and everything is interconnected. I love the prayer you said to St. Therese of Lisieux! Your wife was right in telling you to share your story, this has been very helpful to me. Blessings to you and all your family, Paul.
Peace, Sheila ??
Sheila, thank you for your kind words. I share your appreciation for Nature as a profound and generous teacher. With deepest gratitude for your reflection, Paul.
What a poignant reflection by Paul Cotter. It’s full of thought and insight and beautifully written. It has stirred thoughts within me of my leaf — and my family tree — the ones who went before me to fertilize the base of who I am. And I will do the same for future generations. Thank you for this gift of reflection
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I’m glad my story resonated with you and inspired leaf insights of your own.