Don’t deny your past; it’s where you grew from, it’s where your roots are still planted.
It seems to me as though, for the first part of our human existence, we are in the soil of our lives planted like a seed. We are in the dark, in the drought, the floods, the heat, and the cold largely unaware.
We struggle to reach the light and beyond the darkness. We exert ourselves to get to the weightlessness of no dirt, no mud, no pressure around us and upon us. We endure the elements as we desperately try to make it through to the surface, to emerge.
Once we are through, we are in awe of the grandness of the space and the possibilities. We rejoice. We dream. We plan for a bright, struggle-less, weightless future.
We Are Out Now!
We’ve made it out and it’s all going to be better from now on.
The pressure is off.
The darkness has cleared.
We Are FREE!
Naïve and unprepared for what’s next - the twists and storms of life ahead - we are dismayed as we are made to encounter the elements in entirely new ways.
We get scorched, drenched, and dried again.
The winds of life blow so hard we can barely hold on. And just as we are faced with having to let go, as we stare the end in the face, ready to release the grasp reprieve arrives in the last possible moment.
In disbelief, numb and tired, we notice we are safe. Somehow, all is well again. And, again, we get to bask in the comfort of uneventful sunny days, graced with warm breeze and joy and ease and calm.
We look ahead to the horizon with hope and dreams and plans all set.
Then, all of a sudden, without warning, the wind picks up; it’s unrelenting and fierce! We must hold on.
We must keep our young, vulnerable roots in the soil because we know if we don’t, they will wither away; we will die!
So, we twist in the wind, resisting it enough so it doesn’t break us, so we don’t snap. It would be such a shame after all we’ve been through, trying so desperately and with such devotion to getting above the ground.
And then, drought comes again. Only now we are more exposed to it. We’re not hidden as before, no shade yet either. We are still weak and vulnerable to all the elements, to all the twists and storms of life.
Sometimes, a cloud is a blessing, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes the rain is welcomed, sometimes we almost drown.
Those of us lucky enough to make it, strong enough to take it, and those who had it the hardest coming through to the surface might just be resilient enough, prepared enough, willing enough, desperate to survive enough, stubborn just the right amount get to grow into a giant, beautiful, majestic tree that, because of all those elements, has learned to lean into the wind enough not be broken and surrender to it enough to remain flexible.
And keep growing and expanding those roots beyond the shallow.
About the Author
In early Spring of 2011, as I sat with my journal at a family cabin, I felt the seed of my creative writing come through from beneath the surface. As I picked up my pen to begin my first journal entry, I felt a feeling of profound peace and indescribable comfort. All was well. I felt I was Home - finally!