On a recent walk around our neighborhood, my kids and I noticed a newly cut stump where a London planetree used to stand. I could not help but feel a sense of sadness in its absence. As though to document its existence, we gathered around and counted the number of rings on the trunk to calculate the number of years it had been on our block.
On the way home, I was in awe of the beauty that came with being imprinted by the passage of time. Like trees, we, too, are etched with traces of information about our history and journey. Throughout the year, our “tree trunk” diligently records evidence of our growth with each new ring, ever so slightly marking the events that took place in our lives. These marks appear in the depth of our laugh lines, the folds of our skin, and sometimes, they are invisible to the eye but so deeply felt that they are impossible to miss.
For trees, the color and width of the ring bands can tell us whether they have experienced favorable or stressful conditions, whether there has been excessive rainfall or a drought, and whether a forest fire may have left behind scars.
Like trees, our lives record seasons of growth and hardship. Each ring in our story carries the evidence of love, courage, loss, and belonging that defines who we are becoming.
One gift that my dear friend Lennon Flowers, co-founder & Executive Director of The Dinner Party and co-founder of The People’s Supper, has given me over the years is the openness to seeing grief when it enters our lives, inviting it in (skeptically or wholeheartedly), and sitting together awhile. And in that sadness and vulnerability, to quietly ask myself and the people I love: “What needs healing here?” If the holiday season brings up any of these feelings for you, I want you to know that you are not alone.
In Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer, a scientist, author, and enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, wrote about the alliance and reciprocity among trees to nurture their well-being: “The trees act not as individuals, but somehow as a collective. Exactly how they do this, we don’t yet know. But what we see is the power of unity. What happens to one happens to us all. We can starve together or feast together.”
If we apply this insight to the emotional, social, and political turmoil we find ourselves in today, a unit of change that can bring about social cohesion – the glue that keeps us together – is the relationships we have with one another. At the most foundational level, we’re bound together by our innate desire for connection, belonging, and in turn, our collective thriving.
I recently asked a friend in a space of yearning, “What does it feel like to belong?” He thought for a minute and then responded with great clarity: “It’s when I feel like there’s no place I’d rather be.”
In the year ahead, as we work to fill our lives with more connection, community, and a sense of belonging – and as we find ways to embrace more people into our circle of human concern – I want to leave you with this poem by Andrea Gibson:
“One of the quickest paths
to an open heart
is to recognize how
much courage it takes
to live a life. Any life.To choose to see
that courage in others.
And to choose
to see it in ourselves.”
Whether you need to add an extra leaf to your dining room table this holiday season or plan to raise a glass to friends and family over Zoom, I hope your days swell with joy, open hearts, and meaningful relationships. May your next tree ring be filled with many moments shared with others where you instinctively know that there’s no place you’d rather be.
