A few weeks ago I was watching our maple tree during a rainy, windy afternoon (after my daughter remarked that I was glancing at my phone a few too many times…).
The wind was tossing the trees’ dark burgundy leaves around like little puppet dolls — flung whichever way the gusts decided.
But beneath all that motion, the deeper branches — and the trunk itself — stood steady. Regal. Unmoved by the storm.
It struck me that this is a perfect metaphor for life as you get older.
Most of us, for much of our lives, live in the outer leaves — constantly reacting to the winds of the world:
Work stress. Family conflict. Health worries. Financial stressors. Ever changing world order.
The further out we live, the more at the mercy we feel of everything external.
But the deeper purpose, I believe, is to deliberately move closer to the trunk — to live from a steadier place inside.
A place of resilience. Clarity.
Not because it protects us from life’s winds — it doesn’t. Even the strongest trunk will eventually fall. We’re all only here temporarily.
But while we’re here, we can choose to spend more time in that grounded centre, less in the whipping leaves.
We can practice coming back to our core: how we care for our bodies, how we nourish our minds, how we connect with those we love, and how we contribute to something beyond ourselves.
And when life does toss us — as it always will — we can remind ourselves – I have roots now.
That’s the heart of resilience.
And that’s the reason for why I write here: to share ways we can all build a stronger core to carry us through this fleeting but beautiful life.
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