Rooted.

 I reread a blog post of mine from 2019. In it, I ended with saying, "Maybe I need a little more rusty, vulnerable, silly things in my life. Yes, yes I think that's it." And wouldn't you know it, 7 years later that's still true. Couldn't possibly BE more true. 

A few weeks ago I sat on the island near Rio Vista, the one connected by that concrete bridge, the one that is comprised entirely of Bald Cypress Tree roots. I sat there with my counselor. She's a real one. We were talking about metaphors that might reflect meaning for me about the transition point I'm in right now. I was feeling like everything was cliche. We try to use nature to inform our work together, she's a nature based therapist, we meet outdoors, it's been life changing. And also, my body resists almost everything, constantly. And so, I was grasping at the metaphor of a solid foundation, being deeply rooted, much like the island we were seated on. But it just felt too on the nose for this beautifully frustrating part of me I call Skeptic. 

Right about that time, a pack of children came running across the bridge. All haphazard clothing (one croc, one barefoot, one river shoe, some in bathing suits some in long sleeves, unsteady on their feet, bubbling energy. And that was it. That was my metaphor. Children could not be more free, they are uninhibited, totally vulnerable, and totally trusting. THAT'S what's meant for me. That's what I'm on the cusp of, God willing. God trusting. God faithing. Because Lord have mercy the faith it requires. To be uninhibited, trusting, and totally vulnerable. To operate with a sense of ease, trusting I have what is required for each present moment. That's what I'm moving towards. And yes, the island completely made out of roots, having been a place of connection and source of life for centuries of people (San Marcos headwaters are believed to be the oldest continually inhabited site in North America) has a role in this metaphor too. The deeply rooted foundation of life is what upholds the vulnerable children. There is deep connection to be had there, because it's baked into the land. And that's God. That deep connection is yes, with nature and humanity, AND that's God. I don't have to pick one or the other, it's both. 

My past theology may have struggled with that. It may have felt like sacrilege to equate God to dirt. To roots. To past groups of people living on this land. But now? It feels freeing. I am experiencing deeper reverence than ever before by seeing God this way. God gave us such beautiful creation, so much of himself poured into every nook and cranny of it, who would I be to ignore that? God is in the dirt. He's in the roots. He's in the pinecones, the mountains, the bugs, the river flowing, and the children running. And thank God I can see it now. God continue to reveal yourself to me in this, freeing me to move between the known and the unknown. Being totally uninhibited, vulnerable, and trusting <3 

The pack of children established their base, and then one by one they flung themselves into the cold December waters, coming up squealing and splashing and laughing. Yes, it was freezing, but was it also freeing?