Returning to my roots

I’m less than a week into my life back in Colorado and part of me feels as if I never left. The ease in which I slid right back into spaces that I occupied before has been alarming in ways. I suppose I carried this notion that I had outgrown Colorado and that is why I yearned to leave. Being back, just for a week, has made me question that idea already.

I often think that growth and expansion requires me to leave behind or let go of places, spaces and parts of my self that no longer serve me. I do believe this is necessary at times. But I also know that life happens in cycles. And the thing about cycles is…they are always cycling through and repeating themselves in ways.

We have all experienced seasons of life that were temporary. Seasons that are only designed to last so long and then come to an end. Sometimes this ending is chosen and other times it is handed to us. Either way, we must accept it.

It is a deep lesson in impermanence. Something all humans struggle to acknowledge. So what happens when a season ends, you accept it and move on, and then life brings you right back into a season that feels exactly the same!? Part of me feels as if I am being punked by the universe. That the past year was a glitch in time and didn’t actually happen.

I lived so much life. I experienced so many things. I shifted so many parts of my being. And yet, here I am. Right back where I started. But is that true? Probably not.

I am an expanded version of myself in so many ways. I have grown and healed and walked through a lot in relatively short amount of time. If I were a tree, it feels as if I grew an entirely new canopy of leaves. The crown of my branches extend much further towards the sun now. But that new growth of branches is nothing unless it is supported by all the branches, leaves, trunk and roots that have always been there.

Sometimes I get the idea in my head that when I go through a time of expansion, that I can leave behind all that I was in the past. That I am only the newest part of myself. That I can thrive and survive solely as the fresh new growth at the top of the tree. But if I attempt to isolate the newest part of myself, it is as if I am pruning the top of a tree and expecting those cut branches to thrive.

Nature doesn’t work that way. (yes, there are plenty of trees that can be propagated via new growth, that’s a whole different analogy rabbit hole that I am going to choose to not dive into at the moment!) The highest branches are supported by the deepest roots, a sturdy trunk and every branch that is below it. It has the opportunity to grow higher because of every bit of matter that makes up the rest of the tree.

In ways, I feel as if I was in a long season of summer. Expanding and growing and taking in so much energy from the world around me. It was nourishing to every part of my being, from leaves to roots. But because the leaves and new growth is the most visible, I decided to pretend it was the only part being nourished by the season of plenty.

I am realizing now, as I feel my being slipping into the season of winter, literally and figuratively, that every part of my being was being nourished. Coming back into my roots feels a bit odd when every ounce of my energy has been focused on the expanding canopy. But the roots are always an integral part of a trees ability to thrive and continue to expand.

Just like the growth of trees is seasonal, so is our own. Year after year, the cycle is the same. A time of growth and expansion followed by a time of rest and returning to our roots. There is no way to avoid this cycle or wiggle your way out of it. Trust me, I’ve tried many times, as many of us have!

Coming back to Colorado, a place where I feel the sturdiest roots, is reminding me of this truth in many ways. Our roots are an integral foundation of growth. Because they are hidden from view, it is easy to forget how necessary they truly are. It is because of those exact roots that I was able to expand so beautifully this past year.

Now it is time to return to my roots. It is time for me to remember how I lived before this expansion and how much it helped me become who I am now. It is not a regression or a returning to the past. It is a cycling through a natural rhythm that is inevitable. It is a touch point back to my roots to allow for rest. So when I am ready again, I can begin to grow closer to the sun.

Growth is not an isolated thing. I cannot live as this newest version of myself while pretending every past version of myself no longer exists. My very roots, trunk and branches are made of every person I ever was. I am who I am because of every moment I’ve ever walked through.

How beautiful that every part of me still exists and is easily accessible. How incredible that I can experience seasons of expansion and contraction and love and honor them both. How lucky am I that I still have roots planted in such a wonderful place.

All of a sudden, it no longer feels alarming to my being that I slipped back into this lifestyle so seamlessly. It feels like a sweet gift from the universe. Thank god I didn’t sever my new growth from everything that existed before it. My roots, trunk and leaves are all feeling so nourished. There is a whole lot of magic in that.