Recently I drew a picture of my life. It started as a time-line of sorts, but lives aren’t really very linear. No one tells us that, we celebrate our milestones, but don’t always recognize the person we are becoming, how we become a compilation of people and experiences, both good and bad. We don’t leave experiences behind as much as build them up like a good mulch. And like a mulch, sometimes stuff gets thrown into the pile that really didn’t belong there, or wasn’t part of the plan, but is now incorporated and we have to just go with it. Icky stuff can grow too, which can become really confusing about what we are supposed to keep and what we need to uproot and throw away.
I drew a new picture. Now I’m 60 and an interesting combination of all those years it took to get me here. I like this picture so much better, it shows my roots going deep and being nurtured by all the experiences I’ve had and the people I’ve known. My yoga instructor has a mantra to help us strengthen and stand tall: “I rise from my roots”, helping us envision the connectedness to the earth and the strength we gain from that connection. My picture connects me to all those I’ve lost with a promise for what will be. I rise from my roots.
