Be a Tree

In my house, I have a wall of tree photos. Trees across my life that have personal significance – a backyard tree that calmed and inspired me during years raising young children and completing grad school, a newly planted live oak in the house we just bought, the gorgeous rings seen in the stump of a massive old oak that finally needed to be cut down from the front yard of my daughter’s sorority house. The wall is sentimental, like a scrapbook of important places I’ve been, literally and metaphorically, but that also were put there as a reminder. 

Trees have very deep roots. Invisible to us. Keeping them upright during raging storms. Rings forming over years and years, signs of resilience. Showing how they survived seasons of drought, floods, all of life’s challenges across decades we can no longer see or remember. 

That’s why I love trees. They are monuments to the passing of time. They show me that even through shitty seasons, terrifying storms, and devastating droughts, their roots help them survive. Keep them upright. Connected invisibly to other nearby trees to share strength when they’re weakened. 

Unaesthetic as it may be, I especially love to see new sprigs growing around the edges of a tree that’s been cut down. It’s like the tree is giving a middle finger to the universe.  “You thought you could get rid of me? Watch this!” And the sprouts emerge. Disfigured and scrappy, yes. But undeterred by convention and determined to survive. 

Today, this wall feels especially important. Last night was a storm. Today is the aftermath. Many of us are walking around dazed. Terrified. Unsure of what’s next. 

But we have deep roots. Remember that. Just like a 300 year old oak with branches reaching to the sky, we can, we must weather this storm. Not sure how. But when our grandchildren look back at the majesty of our trunks, they’ll know.