I've always been introspective , and sometimes get so caught up in my thoughts that I fail to do much of significance. Over the past year and a half I've been more committed to taking action; to trying new things and pushing myself at least a bit farther out of what is admittedly a rather narrow comfort zone.
Last year I wrote a book. I don't know whether it's good enough to ever be published, but instead of whining about wanting to write, I got proactive enough to sit down and do it. I didn't second guess myself constantly or talk myself out of it "because probably nobody would want to read anything I write anyway", which was always my excuse for giving up before. It's progress, right?
This past winter I did something that was equally daring - for me, at least. I made a commitment to spent plenty of time in Toronto with my son, to encourage him as he finishes his course, and to show him (and myself) that we can do difficult things. Spending time away from husband and home frightened me. What if Todd didn't miss me, or he didn't keep the house clean enough to meet my standards? What if I got too lonely or bored? What if I got lost in the "Big City" or I proved to be no real help to Sam at all?
Once again I didn't give in to the negative voices that always encourage me to take the safest, easiest route. I had my own firm convictions on my side, my husband's blessing and my son's approval. (Even if there are times when he craves a bit more "parental neglect", he's still appreciative when I take him out to supper or do his laundry.) It was all enough to make me follow through.
For the record, I know I'm no paragon of virtue or wisdom. I'm seeing a bit of progress in myself as I learn that I can be happy in new situations, change resistent as I am. I'm discovering that variety in life is invigorating. The fact that independence does NOT equal loneliness is finally sinking in. I'm not a wise woman yet, but I maintain hope that someday I will be.
I've recently had another challenge come my way. Last week my mother moved to town - a brave move on her part, since she's reached a relatively advanced age and lived in the same city almost her entire life. It's difficult for me to watch her find her bearings in this new environment, and to see the wistful look in her eyes when she talks about her friends "at home". I'm uncomfortable with being needed by her in this new way, as a navigator and advisor, just as Sam is uncomfortable with needing me, and I'm uncomfortable with needing Todd. But the fact that we do need each other is undeniable.
So what exactly does all this rambling about my experiences this past year have to do with a poem about a tree? Well, no matter how impressive the specimen, no tree really stands alone. Each tree needs the earth to support it and the rain and the sun to provide nourishment. In return it nurtures flora and fauna of various types while it stands, and continues to contribute to the world long after it has been felled.
We are all like the One Tree - rooted, but reaching. We're all interconnected - needing support and approbation on one hand, and needing to offer our own brand of nurturing on the other. Will my contributions outlive me? Hmmm... I don't know, but I like to think that's something I can aspire to.
One Tree: (By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, Nov. 18th, 2010)
Part of the forest, but not quite
with leafy boughs that filter light
one tree stands tall against the sky -
a home for those that flit and fly.
Its roots run deep into the earth
that gave a spindly sapling birth,
and thrived despite harsh elements
'til tree grew high in increments.
Into the clouds its branches thrust
from roots entrenched in dirt and dust.
And though this tree could stand alone,
it was into a woodland sown -
where roots and branches both entwine
with trees of differing design.
I am merely a single tree
in forest of humanity -
though independent, not alone
within the glade where I have grown.
Strong roots I have to nourish me
in rich brown loam of family,
and hopeful sunshine, loving rain
might help me lofty stature gain.
Perhaps someday I'll rise in might,
distinguished by outstanding height.
Until, in autumn of my day
I'll cast my wisened thoughts away
to catch the winds like leaves of gold,
and shelter saplings from the cold.
