A Tree's Becoming

Blog # 12 -- Monica Rae

September 19th, 2020

I heard a dog screeching outside. My first thought was a neighbor dog must have been hit by a car! I knew it was not my dog because he was laying on the floor in the bathroom beside me.

I quickly blotted by lips with color and ran outside. Wandering over into the connecting yard I saw the gathering of neighbors investigating the sound we all were afraid of.

We all had the same panic because we all loved our dogs!

Thankfully, the young neighbor dog, named River, did not have threatening injuries. But it was there, in the middle of the dirt road that divides our homes, that I met Joe. I met his wife Jayna and their dogs soon after.

What they did not know upon this first meeting, was their house was the reason I was living in mine! In the search for an acreage, an internet Zillow ‘search for homes’ in the area revealed theirs, for sale. Our realtor came knocking on their door over 5 ½ years ago, but was informed they were not selling their home, in fact they had been living in it for over a year. Strange? Why did it show up as ‘for sale?’

The realtor wandered across the street to inquire from the neighbors any information on the area and home sales. That knock led to a conversation, a meeting, and a move. Eight weeks later I was in my new home staring out the window at the house, that was not for sale, that brought us here.

As I pack up the clutter that fills the walls, I have called home, I realize why I was shown that house years ago.

And it was not so I would live decades in this one!

Joe and Jayna introduced me to their horse like dogs who have playdates with my two Labradors. When their first baby began toddling around my daughter would saunter over for a cup of sugar and a squeeze. When a second baby bump led to another ‘little’ my daughter began babysitting. Birthday parties, games, dog sitting, tator tot casserole, lots of rum, trauma tears, hugs in quarantine and the spare bedroom that was always there. They have bled into my soul because of who they are—in all their raw acceptance and vulnerability.

I was brought here to know them. And now, we are family.

I sway in the hammock, taking a break from the packing. I fall asleep, which I will regret in a few hours as my pale Irish skin becomes the color of the tomatoes I am growing in my garden. I hear the squirrels in the evergreens negotiating in an upset tone. The breeze picks up from the north and the corn stocks scratch against each other. And to the east, the soybeans have turned the perfect shade of mustard yellow. My ducks are quacking because I just turned the water on, and the bees and butterflies are making the world more beautiful in the wildflower garden that someone new will tend to soon.

I am in Eden.

I am still.

Waiting.

Listening.

Sometimes I have questions, so I ask them.

Other times, I sit, expectedly, knowing the sound of the whisper.

I met myself here on this land. For the first time in my life I found who I truly was—naked and unafraid. I answer to the presence living fully inside me.

I saw the neighbor’s house on Zillow so I could live here for a time and learn this.

But when then do you choose to leave Eden?

Simple.

When it is time. When it is complete. When the same certainty that opens the door has closed it.

In the 1980’s there was an experiment done in the biodome desert. The plan was to create the ‘perfect’ living space for humans, plants, and animals.

Eden wrapped in a bubble, perhaps?

A huge glass dome was constructed, and air, water and light were providing the correct growing conditions. People even lived in it for months at a time. What an accomplishment! It took some time to realize it, but something was not working as it should. The trees were growing and flourishing with all the correct ‘ingredients’ for their growth. What scientists could not understand then was why they kept toppling over! Why? Because the one thing the glass walls had protected the trees from was the one thing they needed to become the majestic and enduring presence they were designed to be. And the one thing?

Wind.

Trees need the wind beating against them!

It strengthens their roots.

This stress causes the tree to compensate and it grows something called the reaction wood (or stress wood). This becomes a guide of sorts—as the tree reaches for the best light and yet survives the loads and awkward shapes this requires.

Trees need wind because they were not meant to be caged—they are wild, free, reaching for the best light to become the strongest version of themselves. The rings of trees tell stories of storms and sunshine.

People need change and challenges because we too are free and were not meant to be caged. The coming and going of life, the packing up, the saying goodbye, the heartache and the truth we hid from ourselves out of fear of the unknown—it is like the wind, shaping us, preparing us in our becoming.

Recently, I have been on the receiving end of some well-intentioned individuals who have opinions about how my life should look. Like I have walked outside of the glass walls they assume I should remain behind. They have opinions about where I live, how I raise my child, my jobs, how much money I do not make, and where I want to go.

We judge because we feed our ignorance with what we steal from stories we do not fully read!

I know this now.

And when I am unsure how to navigate their responses I stand under the canopy of the trees or I walk my daughter’s dog to the highest point on the dirt road and let the wind beat against me as we jog home in the sunset. I do not answer to those pounding on the glass. I am free and filled.

People collect the details to fit their preconceived notions and glass houses. But I know why I was brought here. Toiling the land, burying animals that have died in my arms, letting the harsh winter wind beat against my face as I trek out in the snow to feed ducks, watching each season defined in colors and shapes of life growing outside my windows. I have been humbled by the invitation to just ‘be.’ I was reminded that the Creator is not defined by institutions and family is not defined by nuclear parameters. Family made across the road. Laughter pouring into me because I was free, wild, and fully accepted. No walls, institutions or preconceived notions define my perceptions.

My truth is revealed in the whisper of clarity that comes with being fully present.

God lives and breathes into the souls of people who sit in what he has given…in the prairie wind, the crackling of the desert storm or waves that beat upon the sandy shore.

We define, expect, demand, follow.

Why?

When we stop trying to assume control we realize we are free to accept the clarity before us, we welcome the wind knowing it will shape us so we can be a canopy for the tired, strength for the weak and beauty for the lost.

My attempts at goodness do not win me enough brownie points to avert the wind that will inevitability blow my way. But I am still upright…reaching for the best light ….

DEDICATION: To my friend Lara who helps me pack, tells me stories of trees and listens with her full radiant heart. To Tom, Judy and Paul who have given me the wings and support to make the tough decisions. I would not be where I am without you. To my neighbors who have shared their dogs, their drinks, and their pool! To Joe and Jayna whose raw acceptance has taught me how to laugh more ... You are my happy family!