There is something very profound about understanding and being understood that calms and silences the discord that lies beneath the surface of relationships. We quake silently or erupt like volcanoes when we are unheard, misunderstood. Being understanding of the deep strains of each human is easier said than done and is a deep-rooted personal struggle. Family ties stretch and bend, they contort in strange ways, knotted and full of disharmony at times. These ties are sometimes strong, thick tethers but can become weak, delicate strands in an instant. Like a dull edge sawing slowly back and forth against thick cord, familial discord and lack of understanding slowly but surely threatens to sever bonds and family ties, both strong and delicate.
In family trees, branches are added while some dry up and break off as the tree grows and bends and becomes its own entity, unlike its neighboring trees. Much like each tree in the forest, no two families are the same. It is understood that each person is an enigma, a unique, free-thinking, free-feeling human, but to actually show understanding takes great sacrifice at times.
There are times that I don't feel like sacrificing, where I don't feel like stretching myself thin to be understanding and flexible with the people that birth and marriage have placed on the other ends of the many tethers of my family lines. Sometimes I feel so unheard and misunderstood. I feel intense, fiery anger toward family members when my needs are not understood, my wishes fall to way-side, assumptions are made about me, and my motives are questioned. I feel profoundly sad when I feel wronged, mistrusted, disliked. But it takes fresh air and fresh perspective to really, truly understand the views and needs of each delicate, unique person we are both forced and choose to have relationships with. And even if some of the knotty branches of our family trees are hardened, gnarled, and ugly at times, they are a piece of the whole. And sometimes you won't be heard, you won't be understood...and that's where your own deep-seated understanding of nature and your lack of control over it, the passing of time and the healing it can bring, and waves of calm and chaos that inevitably crash upon the shores of your life becomes a paramount key to your own peace and sanity. And sometimes...you just need your space, your own green, mossy patch of earth on which to grow, separate and sacred.
There are some family trees that are still but saplings, woody arms outstretched toward the sun. They are planted by mother trees and their falling seeds. But if a solid, rooted, established oak grows and looms over it, too near to the sapling, the great tree may very well shade the young tree and soak up its nutrients from the earth they both share. In order for young family trees to bloom and to grow and become great, solid oaks as well, they must be allowed to drink from their own roots in their own space, not swallowed up by the sturdy roots of their ancestors. They must reach their arms upward, toward wide open skies and swallow up the sun without being overcome in a shadow of over-burden.
So, to be understanding, to be truly understanding is knowing when to hold on and when to let go. Knowing that trees never grow in the same way. Knowing when your strong, sturdy roots of weathered wisdom are needed and welcomed and when to let young saplings, young people, stretch and bend in the sunshine, growing upward creating their own family branches. No two trees will ever grow and look the exact same, each branch unique. That's the beauty of nature. And it takes a great deal of understanding.
