"10 Minutes a day you must spend with me," said the kind, sweet evergreen tree.

Such was the remedy that he prescribed to me when I asked if he, to me, would stillness teach.

He sounded like Gandalf--a projection of my mind. He explained it when I asked the reason why.

"But don't bring your phone."

Goodness, How could he know?

I focus only when I'm completely alone.

"I won't," I said. Then I nodded my head, and I smiled because he had watched me lose track.

"Every day before winter," said Ibrahim the Evergreen, "lest you can bare the bitter cold and make it through."

I threw my phone on the ground after I muted the sound, and we sat in silent agreement, we two.