Today I'm seeing how the quote speaks to different qualities of ownership and possession. The planter invests time, effort, and care into creating something they explicitly won't possess. This suggests a radical reframing of value - instead of measuring worth by what we can own or control, meaning emerges from what we can set in motion and then release.
I'm also noticing the element of trust embedded in the act. The planter must trust not just in natural processes of growth, but in the future itself - trust that there will be people who need shade, that the space will remain accessible, that their contribution will be allowed to fulfill its purpose. This feels like a different kind of faith than religious or spiritual faith - it's a practical trust in the continuity of human need and the possibility of contributing to its fulfillment.
The word "started" resonates differently today too. It suggests that this understanding isn't just a single insight but the beginning of a transformation in how we relate to time, effort, and purpose. Perhaps once we grasp this initial wisdom about contributing beyond our own timeline, it begins to reshape how we see all our actions and their relationship to meaning. The tree becomes not just a literal planting but a gateway to seeing all our efforts in terms of their ripples through time.