Clearing the Roots

Clearing the Roots

I’ve just read something in a wonderful book, The Island of Missing Trees, which has ”spoken” deeply to my soul.

It talks of a tree dying, not because there are any obvious signs of why it is eg it is in the right position with the right light, good surroundings and no obvious signs of infection or parasites – but it’s still dying.

The problem it seems, are it’s roots: it’s being strangled and starved of oxygen – a situation which has been happening since it’s ”birth” so to speak, to it’s demise has been slow, unseen and painful.

Has got me thinking how very many of a person’s problems come from the beginning: it’s a known fact that many physical conditions are brought about by lack of oxygen and that the brain cannot develop fully without oxygen – but am also sure that the emotions are stifled or damaged too by roots being uncertain or stifled or injured.

I know of many families whose love for their children could not have been greater: who themselves , were born on strong foundations but whose children left them/hurt them/misbehaved in ways the parents couldn’t understand or fathom.

Some I suspect, meet a partner whose rocky foundations cause them the insecurities that make them drag people towards them, exclusively or else! Love, lust or a mix of both, pull the stronger toward the weaker and parents get hurt…..

Am soul searching at the moment.

So much pain and insecurity to work through but all know, I can see, connected to roots. Am needing to have a good long look at them to try to understand current behaviour and pain: and have realised how much my parents actually did love me and my sisters, despite their individual treatment of us being far from the ”parenting” expected and certainly not the nurturing , solid foundation for a healthy , emotional future.

But their individual roots were strangled too for very many and different reasons.

My Mum grew up in a foster home, dumped by her parents when they couldn’t afford to keep her and her brothers. Mum’s young life was very difficult and she ensured many changes and hurts, not least losing homes/not having people as constant – and having her heart broken by my Dad, when in effect, she probably broke his first with her insecurities.

Aged 61, I’m still scared of travelling. Of leaving my home in the fear it won’t be there when I get back. I hang onto the security of being in one place, safe, with things I recognise and spaces I can hide in. I wonder if I’m carrying a ”heart print” which is my Mum’s but has transferred to me, as easily as her cheekbones and curly hair.

I’m fighting feeling worthless against seemingly ”successfully” in the most basic sense, holding a life together in which I run home/family and life together – but the fears run deep of everything falling in and it’s taking time to find the foundation to stand on.

Home didn’t exist – though the roof belonging to our grandparents, was where we hid and were loved unconditionally.

Three times, I’ve opened my heart completely and trusted and loved with sheer abandon and belief that it was going to be okay.

Three times, I’ve been destroyed emotionally ; let down in the worst of ways and shattered to find I’ve no judgement and little strength to rebuild.

Please don’t get me wrong: am so very lucky in so very many ways.

Right now, Ive just got my own private war going on and am securing the perimeter of my foundations, cutting away the deadwood and seeing the debris for what it is: debris and dust and nothing that can affect me – unless I let it.

I’ve always ”seen ”my Mum for everything she is. Hasn’t mattered what she has done to herself – or to us – she’s still our Mum. I’ve handled the pain she’s put us through and forgiven her.


Not sure why I cannot forgive myself but am working on it……

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