Deep Roots
“I am Groot.” – Guardians of the Galaxy
Walking through our neighborhood this week, my son pointed out a half-moon shape cut out of the edge of the sidewalk. He was curious as to why the sidewalk would be shaped that way. I explained that a large tree had probably grown there, and the force of the roots had buckled the original walk. A new sidewalk had been poured to accommodate the trunk.
Like trees, sometimes the most visible parts of us are not our strongest. While leaves play a central role in the growth of a tree, without an established root system, a sapling will fall in a storm.
Our values, beliefs, and spiritual nature form the basis of our character. They are the roots and trunk supporting all that we present to the world. And like the branches and leaves of a tree, our physical being moves and murmurs in response to external stimuli.
Making sure that we nurture the parts of ourselves that provide our foundation is critical. But sometimes the process is not intuitive.
It is easier to focus on what we can see-our physical being, vocational and social engagements, and material possessions-in favor of the solitude that feeding our roots requires.
In this way, our leaves can be showy distractions. In a misguided attempt to generate a feeling of fulfillment, they draw our attention to the external product of our travails instead of seeking quietly inward.
And yet, how does a healthy tree feed its whole network of branches and leaves? With its deep roots.
We are best able to support all the ways we extend ourselves outward by first going inward. We are most able to stand firm with others by first tapping our own internal reserve of strength. And we are best able to be heard by first getting quiet enough to listen to ourselves.
