Rooted
Is it just me or is anyone else really confused how a seemingly dead tree, a mere stump, can send up shoots of new life. Essentially, new trees growing out of the bones of the old one. There are no seeds or acorns around it to germinate, just the stump standing in defiance of the death that became its mighty boughs. I’m writing this as I watch my neighbor across the street weed eat around an old red oak stump that she had cut down a couple years ago. There are, or rather there were, saplings sprouting all around the base of the former tree. This leads me to think that despite the glorious parts of the tree we saw above ground, the roots are where the life resides. Perhaps there are parts of us too that are so deep within us waiting to grow that couldn’t have flourished prior to a traumatic “pruning” event.
I’m not sure if you’ve ever had a life event or opportunity make you feel like you’ve been cut off at the knees, but those setbacks can feel like a sort of death. When I look back on moments where I felt like dreams had died or opportunities dried up, I can remember the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness that came with those seasons. I also, without fail, can look back and see how those forks in the road helped me find a new path that took me somewhere I hadn’t even considered prior to being confronted with life’s pruning shears. I always retained my roots, and the new life that sprouted seemed to take advantage of the fertilized soil of my prior experiences.
What I’ve learned over the years, which relates to the roots of a mighty oak, is that connection to community is key. In regards to the oak tree analogy, their roots are covered in fungal webs called mycorrhizal fungi, which creates a network people have anecdotally called the “wood wide web.” Historically we have regarded fungus as a sign of death and decay, but in the case of plant roots the infusion of fugus provides connection. The roots and the fungus trade sugars for soil nutrients and work in a symbiotic relationship.
The irony here is that this massive network is mostly hidden beneath the soil. The towering tree’s “success” gets all the praise from bystanders because of its aesthetic beauty and size, but without the community beneath the soil, the tree could not grow to such heights. This is an interesting thought. Without a supportive community we may be able to survive, but likely we won’t thrive.
Do you have a community you are connected to? It can be an online community, a church, book club, or just friends with which you share a common bond. I find I personally do my best creative work when in collaboration with other likeminded individuals. You’d likely never see half of the things I write if it weren’t for some dedicated and unsung heroes like my wife, my sister, and my best friend who often get my worst drafts, and tell me yay or nay if what I’ve tried to communicate makes sense. I often feel sorry for them when they have to read the early versions of articles, because very rarely do I get it right the first (or fifth) time. The connection to that community of supporting people helps me flourish.
To take this a step further, being both connected to a community AND to the Earth are vital to our wellbeing. There is something about wonder that grounds us. Sometimes being in community with nature is just what the doctor ordered. I can tell a vast difference in my mental health before and after I’ve spent time in nature. There is something about disconnecting from the stimuli of our digital world and entering green spaces. The static of my daily life disappears, and my mind opens up to the wonder that surrounds me with new mysteries around every bend in the trail and under every rock. It’s exhilarating.
The funny thing is, when I’m overwhelmed with the cycles of life, I have to force myself into the woods. It makes no sense. It’s like I have the medicine for my mental maladies but refuse to take it sometimes. Connection is key, both to nature and to each other. Sometimes we need that prod from a friend to knock us out of whatever funk we may find ourselves in.
Next time you look at a massive oak tree, think about the supporting network of roots and fungi that allowed it to get that large. Then, think about the people or communities you’re connected to and how they’ve helped get you to where you are. How can you support others? Once we stop living in a famine mentality, and start working together I’d bet we all will see life is much better when we have support. Remember to stay rooted!
Love this so much! It speaks to me on so many levels! Thank you for sharing!!!