Roots

For the first time I walked with a friend yesterday. On the woodcutters path we stopped for a moment and I showed her the roots of the trees exposed by the erosion of the little stream.

Roots holding the tree in place even in the torrential winter rains, we can have in the Cape.

Rocks are grown in and embedded in the wood of the root.

The tree is steadfast, does not move, no matter what comes down the stream. The roots hold it securely in the rocky earth.

I ask myself, where are my roots? They are not tangible as the root of the tree. They are in me. What are my rocks, which are grown in my roots, holding me down?  What is it, that is so hard and grown in, maybe also giving me something to hold on?

As a human being I have the ability to move, even, to move my roots. I have the choice to hold on or to let go.

It takes courage to let go and grow new roots. The new roots give new nourishment to let me flourish and grow.