The Tree

A reflection on staying.

Hey everyone, how are you doing out there today? If you have recently joined this community, I extend my heart to you and say a warm thank you and welcome. Lately, I have been sharing stories and experiences in a first person narrative. It’s not that I necessarily think you are so interested in my life. No, it is the universal connections we discover underneath these stories that I aim to reveal. It’s why we watch shows, movies, and theater. We learn through the characters. Stories say something. We can listen when we watch events and nuance unfold from a different vantage point. In fact, writing has allowed me to do this with my own life. I continue even if nobody gets much out of this because it is teaching me and revealing a lot to me. Now, of course, the enjoyment is magnified when I receive reflections from you all, whether that be in comments, email replies, or conversations. It has all been such a gift. Thank you.

This weekend I am, yet again, painfully aware of a recurring pattern of mine. In the past I wasn’t aware of it, and I continually acted out of temporary feelings. I would even make big decisions, starting something new or stopping something difficult, without seeking or heeding wise counsel or taking the proper time to contemplate the cause and effect. Then I became aware of this pattern while taking personal inventory through a 12 step program with a sponsor in AA. It was my first time objectively looking at myself and my patterns. Although less frequently, I would still act out of these temporary feelings because that’s what I knew. Transforming personal, unhealthy patterns is rigorous work. I kept at it.

So now, here I am, with these feelings again. The difference now is that I am not acting on them. I am sitting with them. It has taken a lot of my energy not to act. It has been action in non action.

What are these feelings? - you may ask (family and friends, please keep your chill and thank you for also contemplating what I share before responding… or maybe not responding this time).

I want to change and leave and go away. I don’t know if I can articulate why, other than reasons related to my childhood. I grew up in a military family, moving to a new place and new community every couple years, on average. As an adult it shows up, more or less, like this: I reach a sweet spot with something, anything, anyone. It’s not that it’s the best it could be, by any means. It feels good, and now it’s time to move on to something else… or so my brain tells me.

For the first time, I am acknowledging this tendency in every area of my life - work, play, rest, relationships… all of it.

I think back to when the pain of staying the same was more difficult than the pain of changing. This was in the peak of my active addiction and when it was wreaking havoc in my life. I needed to uproot from a lifestyle and begin again as a seed in new soil. My tendency toward change really worked to my advantage during that time.

Now, I ponder the possibility that this time it might be more painful to uproot than it would be to stay. The way my roots have started to form is good and healthy... and sustainable. I’ve seen things manifest out of the ground of my life. They have grown and even blossomed into beautiful things I didn’t know were possible.

I see this pattern doesn’t need a reason to keep cycling. I have good things in my life that I don’t necessarily want to run away from. It’s not about why. It’s the fact that the pattern is what I know, and therefore it prompts me. Following the pattern, or letting it blow me away, would be the very act of ignoring it. Turning around and facing the pattern means I come into a shape that allows it to flow around me while I stay grounded in new awareness.

A meditation flowed out of me at the beginning of a yoga class on Friday and, as usual, I needed to hear it as much as anyone in the class. If you are listening to the voiceover, feel free to close your eyes and experience this meditation for yourself. If you do, I would love to hear what comes up for you.

Okay, here it is.

Come into a comfortable seat or supported posture for your body.

Bring your eyes to a soft gaze or allow them to close.

Begin by connecting with your breath.

Take a deep inhale through the nose, and sign it out the mouth.

Take two more breaths like that.

In through the nose, release out of the mouth.

Come back to your natural breath and let it move now in and out of the nose.

Bring to your mind’s eye something that has been taking up a lot of space in your mind. It could be anything - something good, something you want, something stressful or worrisome, a situation, a person, an object. Identity this thing that has been taking up a lot of space.

Now, set it aside for a moment. We’ll come back to it.

Bring the image of a tree to your mind’s eye. It can be any type of tree. Take a scan of this tree, from the roots in the soil in the ground, up through the trunk, into the branches spreading out, and the leaves or foliage expanding from the branches. Notice how many leaves there are, or consider how many there were, if you imagine a tree that is bare.

Imagine you are this tree.

Consider that the thing before, the thing taking up so much in your mind, is one of these leaves. It is one of many leaves. It is one of many parts of you.

Consider the season of change while we are moving through autumn. Notice how these leaves change shape and color. At a certain point, the branches and the leaves let go of each other. There comes a time to be bare, allowing space to become strong in cold winds, allowing space for something new to grow, once again, when the spring comes.

Notice how you feel.

Bring your awareness back to your breath. Take three more deep breaths.

Inhale through the nose, sigh it out the mouth.

Breathe in, take another sip of air at the top, and let it go.

One more inhale, lengthen your exhale.

Allow your eyes to open.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

I liked this picture in the post of a bench by a tree. I imagine myself sitting next to this tree on the bench. I still have questions. I’m learning from it.

You really never want to go somewhere else? You don’t want to try your roots in a new place, meet other trees, see what they’re like? Have you seen the birds in Africa? Have you seen the blossoms that trees have in Japan?

I stop and listen as I’m typing this. I listen to the tree that says:

I am a tree. I don’t want anything. I have everything.

You are a person. You want everything and notice first what you don’t have. Your greatest power is the ability to manifest things you want. You can go to Africa. You can go to Japan. As that power is beautiful, it is also dangerous. You can go to all the places in the world and still find yourself wanting the world.

So where are your roots really now? Before you get up and go somewhere new again, ask yourself what you are seeking. Are you seeking rescue and refuge from toxic soil?

My answer is no.

The tree continues.

There is a chance you are afraid of staying here because the still, cold winter reveals who you are, underneath the ever changing leaves, situations, roles, experiences. You may be trying to manufacture something now, which would otherwise come naturally, on its own, without your manipulation, in the spring.

I look away from the tree disarmed by something truthful in its message.

I think back again to the last time I felt this intense about anything in life. When my active addiction was at its worst, my brain was telling me all I needed to feel better was more alcohol. It was so loud, and I was at war with myself. My hurting heart was still there, losing her voice, it seems like, trying to say: stop, please stop drinking.

I am there again with my brain and my heart. My brain has been running through possibilities and strategies of what will make me feel better. Picking up alcohol used to be the symptom of the thing I still want to do sometimes, for no other reason than it’s what I know: leave.

My heart never lost her voice. It’s just that she doesn’t have to yell or scream or fight. She remains the same. Whatever I choose to do, no matter where I go, she is seated within me.

Stop, please stop leaving.

I give her my attention like I gave the tree my attention.

Consider where you are and everything you have.

Consider the whole world can come to you, just like you can go to the whole world.

Give it a chance to come to you.

Stay.