In a Wildlife Preserve outside Savannah, I experienced.......

a scene like out
of "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak. I went on a
walk through a Spanish Moss covered dense wood within the swamp.
The unusual collection of birds sang a symphony as they gathered
there on the sunny May morning.

There were thick vines that had been hoisted into the air as
the tree that was their host grew up, and reached for the sky.
As I walked, I noted so many different shades of green. I had
not realized that there could be so many striking yet subtle
variations.

I noted the magnificence of a tree that had been nearly felled, but
whose roots continued to grow in the ground. The tree continued
to prosper and grow stronger, even as it tilted and leaned against
its neighbors.

That tree reminded me of the definition of community. We are
a relational species. We naturally long for community, for
connectedness with others. We need other people in order to
grow. We need other people to do the work we were put on this
planet to do.

Yet we also struggle to find our own way, be independent: strong,
mighty, unstoppable.

We start each new venture in a state of dependence. We can not
make it on our own at all, we rely on supports from those around
us, as the tree did when it became uprooted in the first place. Perhaps
the tree had been strong, and tall and self reliant at the time of
"the accident".

Now if that tree had been human, it would have struggled, rebelled
against its helpmates and said, "no no no no no I know how to
make these roots work again! I will struggle and strain and
strive to become strong all on my own thank you! Your gifts and
talents are not needed. I am the be all end all of trees! See? I
can do this standing tall thing!"

It would have gotten stuck in independance.

Thankfully, nature is wiser than us humans. The trees around the
fallen tree continued to care for and nurture that tree. Very
importantly, the tree allowed itself to be supported by the other
trees until it could grow again on its own. The fallen tree admitted
it could not stand alone anymore, as its roots had been lifted from the
soil. It needed assistance from its neighbors.

As it healed and grew its roots more firmly in the soil, it once
more could grow on its own. It maintained its bent, less than
perfect perspective. That way, its lesson was so much stronger
for the observers who would come along later and say, "WOW!
That tree made it! Life will not be refused!"

That is, unless, we do not give it and each other license. License
to thrive and grow even while bent and misshapen, perhaps not
looking or seeming to be as we are expected to be. Humans
could have made the mistake of uprooting or tearing down the
imperfect tree. Humans can do the same with imperfect people.
Even as we are all less than perfect, we oftentimes neglect to
forgive ourselves and others.

One way to determine if we need a community is to ask the
question: "Do I need these souls in order to grow?" Now, the
fallen tree definitely was an example of "someone" needing others
in order to grow. But the gift the fallen tree gave to the trees
that supported it I imagine are multifold.

Just like those of us who are given the privilege of weaving our
tapestry with other people who have other special gifts, talents,
abilities and yes: weaknesses. When we can fully support others
in their imperfections as we recognize and allow others to do the
same for us, we will become rooted more deeply and meaningfully
than is imagineable.

Growing towards interdependence is magical, powerful and joyful.
It is about greater depths of joy and understanding. It is about
becoming all of what you were meant to become.

In the end, the perceived weaknesses bring forth the greatest
strengths. From where we are bent and "growing wrong" we
offer the deepest well of inspiration. Of love. Of joy.

Look around the wildly growing swamps around you, whether
they are skyscrapers, tract houses or wide open spaces. What
are your surroundings speaking to you?

Listen. Become deeply rooted. Today.




5Passions: Passion for Purpose, Parenting, People, Poetry