What To Do With Tangled Roots?
When sunshine is elusive, a conversation with a good friend in the Sunshine State is just what the doctor ordered! No planting in northwest Indiana til memorial day seems daunting, doesn’t it? We are well into June now and it’s a surprisingly chilly one. But the corn is growing in straight rows and flowers are planted and blooming.
Eat more pie! That’s one of the takeaways from today’s life lesson! Today’s thoughts center around roots and I come from a long line of pie bakers. And Nancy’s a grower of indoor and outdoor plants. I have a vivid image of a plant when it’s been in a pot too long. The roots get tangled and overgrown and messy and that’s an analogy for our people and where we come from. They make us who we are and as we get older we become more of that tangled, beautiful mess.
A few years ago I had an opportunity to make a big move with my husband. Big move for us, even though it was only three hours away because I am deeply rooted. Where I come from, my mom still lives in the house I grew up in. My people are settlers. They have jobs like farmers and teachers and nurses. I recently went to a family reunion and saw about 100 cousins and they all know each other well. They mostly live close to one another. Their kids and grandkids go to school together. They socialize and vacation together, it’s a very connected family that I come from. That’s part of what led me to have a hard time with the move when it was time for my tangled roots to get repotted. The process is not without trauma because you have to tease and break the roots. You put it in a new pot which is great because it’s new and roomy, but it takes a while for the plant to adjust. A lot of times a newly repotted plant just looks a little sad. And as Nancy reminded me, scientists say this is a real thing. You have to alter expectations for the plant and be very tender towards them during this time of transition.
Being tender towards ourselves when we have big changes like this is important too. Maybe you have acquired the skill of moving, but having never really done it, I had not. In the early days in our new community, when I started going to the grocery store here after shopping at the same place for 20 years, I started looking for people I knew. The first time I saw a familiar face, it was such a treat. In those first days at home, before we had even met the neighbors, I asked my husband, “What do I do if I hurt myself, who do I call?” He said of course I should call him and he would come, but I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get a hold of him. I’ve never needed an ambulance in my life, but I was sure this would be the time. I started carrying my cell phone with me, even at home, wherever I went. I relied on Google Maps for way too long, stubbornly refusing to learn the lay of the land. I went along with the move, but as Nancy astutely pointed out, I had a bit of a rebellious spirit. This “repotting” wasn't my idea, and it stirred up some sadness and some fear and yes, some rebelliousness.
I talked to a counselor at the time (we’re big fans of counseling here at Second Cup - if you need to talk to someone, do it!). I wasn’t familiar with attachment theory, and so I was in a learning posture as he shared with me that it turns out I’m really good at attaching. I had a lot of attachments and when I needed to break them, it hurt and left wounds that needed to heal. But wisely my counselor predicted that I had the skills and ability to make attachments where I was going. The pain of leaving is also a sign that you’re going to be good at where you are going.
This counselor gave me a little bit of hope that served as an anchor. While it took some time for my roots to spread and grow and to become strong again, I’ve ultimately become delighted to be here to get to know people and to run into people I know in the grocery store. I don’t have to use Google Maps very often at all anymore. And I have plenty of emergency contacts if need them.
While I’m still eager to return to my rootedness, I have made my home here. My advice? Don’t fear attachment if you are somewhere new. Go ahead and dig in. It’s also okay to celebrate your roots: where you’ve come from, what you learned in that part of your life, and who you spent your time with. You can take that with you. It’s not gone; both can co-exist. Moving doesn’t have to be a replacement equation, it can be an addition equation, one that is stronger and richer, One that sets the roots free to grow and expand.
POINTS OF GRATITUDE
I’m thankful for a sense of place, whether new or old, and for roots whether tangled and messy or well sorted. And I’m thankful that as we allow ourselves to be “repotted” we become stronger and more complete in who we are.
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION:
Do you think of yourself as deeply rooted or rather mobile?
Do your roots have to do with people, places or experiences?
If you have ever moved, you likely have a story to tell. What’s yours?