From Roots to Resilience

It’s October. It’s hurricane season again. Growing up in Ocean City, one house

from the boardwalk, I learned what it was like to prepare for hurricanes—for the vicious

winds and driving rains that could break windows with flying debris, or for the tide

bringing ocean water and with it, two feet of sand, into our home and garage. I have

vivid memories of rushing to the hardware store to buy big sheets of plywood that my

Mom and Dad and I would then cut to the measurements of all our windows, and then

nailing them securely into the old salt-treated wooden window frames before the rain

started. Perhaps even MORE unsettling was me and my daughter living in our house in

Salisbury, 30 years later, 20 miles inland, but on property that hosted dozens of tall,

swaying, decades-old oak trees. Family from Ocean City evacuated to our house to get

away from the flooding of Hurricane Sandy, so at first, it felt safe and warm all being

together to weather the storm. None of us were prepared for the fear and helplessness

we felt through the night, however, hearing the driving wind whip through the tree-tops,

snapping massive branches and sending them tumbling onto our roof. Then, in the

stormy, unpredictable darkness, three times, we heard huge grumbles followed by

snaps and cracks, and then alarming chaos as entire 75 and 100 foot oak trees

completely uprooted and fell. Thankfully, in morning’s sunlight, we discovered that none

had fallen directly on our house. But what a horrifying night we had spent just

listening…waiting for what we thought could be the inevitable. The interesting fact about

oak trees—though they are tall and mighty, reaching confidently toward the sky—is their

roots only go so deep, about eighteen inches. So what eighteen-inch roots can really

hold up a 100 foot-tall tree in the midst of a hurricane?

One of the things we learn as parents, and one of the things we, as mental health

practitioners often encourage, is to instill the idea of roots in our children. To raise them

in a stable, warm, safe and supportive home. To teach them our cultures, our

philosophies, our lessons, traditions, spirituality and rituals. To expose them to positive

habits, routines, expectations and discipline we learned from our parents and ancestors.

The deeper the roots we grow for our kids, the stronger they will be when they will

undoubtedly have to withstand storms in life.

But what happens when the roots that get instilled in us are not necessarily

healthy? When they may dry-rot with neglect or forgottenness? When they are only

allowed to grow certain ways or to certain depths, as dictated by our authoritarians?

When they grow twisted or bulging, wilting with disease? When they may be rotted by

addiction, abuse or other traumas? When storms come in our lives, how sturdy will

those roots be to hold us up, keep us balanced and strong, to prevent us from crumbling

or falling in the turbulent darkness of a stormy night?

The encouraging thing to consider is that we have options even after our root

systems are established and we have shot ourselves up confidently toward the heavens

being all we can be in our lives. Yes, there will always storms—whether quick afternoon

rain spells followed by golden sunlight again and a rainbow, or hurricanes of which we

must deal with the lasting effects for months or years to come. We are always able to

reshape our roots. We can reach them outward, looking for comfort and support, for

validation and understanding from others we cross paths with. Those others may not be

part of our original family trees, but they can strengthen us just the same, if not more.

They can help us build the strength to become our tall, confident, unwavering selves we

dream we can be by providing the hydration, the fertilization, the sunlight our roots need

most. We may even aspire to be like the great sequoias, with root systems driving 16

feet into the earth, grounded, and reaching outward for up to an acre with the expanse

of their roots—building strong support systems for themselves, able to withstand the

most catastrophic of storms or the driest of droughts.

Though the ideal is that all of us come from a strongly rooted family tree of origin,

and that we continue to build upon that mightiness for our children and generations to

come, with resilience either formed from withstanding adversity, or from our own choice

to reach out and seek the help and support of others that we need, providing that to

others too, we can reach our greatest heights.