The "Root" of the Problem

 

      I live in a log cabin surrounded by three acres of woods, a place that has a different kind of magic with each season.  I’ve lived here for nearly 30 years, and have enjoyed the combination of solitude and close proximity to Route 146 and downtown Uxbridge.  It has been a great place to raise a family. If you weren’t looking for my house, and hopefully you’re not, you would probably miss it.  And I dig that.  But, in the last couple of years I have became more aware of the plant life that was obscuring my view of anything past the edge of our (now drought riddled) lawn, and it began to make me feel more claustrophobic.  The natural wall that I had always seen as a protection from the intrusions of the world was now slowly making me feel more and more like a prisoner in my own home.  It was time to tackle the immense task of clearing it away.

     I have no idea what the scientific names for any of these plants are, but collectively they are a horror show of intertwined vines, thorns, and leaves that act like a barbed wire from hell.  If I got caught in any of it, and tried fighting it, it got worse, much like the Devil’s Snare that Harry Potter contended with.   I wore three layers of clothes to avoid the thorns that promised to rip my skin and the leaves that promised rashes that would torment me for weeks. The more I confronted it, the more frustrated I got, and the more insurmountable it became.  My wife started calling me obsessed, and was less than impressed with the language I fired at this alien enemy that seemed determined to suffocate every living thing that got anywhere near it.  

     Clearly these life forms had no evil intentions or maniacal agendas.  Only survival.  Yet, it was becoming personal to me.  The poor maples, birches, pines, and oaks that acted like my castle walls were being slowly overwhelmed and overrun.  And it was my fault.  For three decades I watched it happen.  

      Hell or high water, I was going to fix it, but I had to get my mind right.  I was approaching this like a warrior, when the job needed the practical approach of a thinker.  So I took a deep breath, and literally tried to get to the root of the problem.  After some calm reflection, I saw that taking them all on together was too much. Instead, I picked one vine and pulled on it to see where it actually came out of the ground.  To my amazement, I discovered that one single vine could be responsible for yards and yards of this awfulness.  Some climbed to the very top of the largest trees.  With one clip I would be well on my way to making major progress.

     After a couple of years of this, I found my woods much clearer, and the task was much more manageable.  I was growing in confidence.  I could see and feel the difference, and I felt a great sense of accomplishment.  I found myself breathing easier.  I had taken care of a problem that I honestly hadn’t even realized was a problem for many years, but it had been affecting me and my environment.

      And then it hit me one day.  

      This was a scarily accurate metaphor for all things that I’ve been holding onto in my life that have obscured my view of the world and the people in it.  All the failures I had experienced that acted like sharp, suffocating thorns, keeping me from moving forward. The fears of the unknown acting like a poison ivy that I was afraid to touch, because it might make my life uncomfortable for a period of time.  The grudges (both old and new, of which I often hold onto with a death grip) acting like the most powerful of vines, strangling any new growth of relationships.  Even some of the plant life that was pleasant to see and smell in smaller numbers, became overwhelming because of the amount that was growing over everything, much like the responsibilities of family and work.

      For far too long I had allowed all of these to gang up on me and keep me from seeing the world the way I always could have. It caused me to hold my breath without even realizing it.  It caused an unconscious stress that made many everyday decisions and problems seem much larger in scope.  At times, I think it kept me from moving forward, because I felt like I was being held in place by forces pulling me in a million different directions.  At age 54, I’m feeling the weight of time working against me, and I’m finally becoming conscious of the minutes, hours, days, and years wasted on letting these obstacles dominate my life. 

      Much like the thorns and vines in my woods, my problems had roots.  With a little honest reflection, it was not too difficult to see that I had allowed all the arguments, slights, small tragedies, and perceived failures, which were small at the time, to grow into a maze of frustrations, fears, and harsh feelings towards others that had grown to a size way out of proportion to their actual importance, and were keeping me from living my best attempt at life. It isn’t easy for me to get to this point.  I come from a long line of strong willed people who are passionate about their beliefs, and will go to great lengths to justify their thoughts and actions.  What I have found, for myself, is that they are often at the detriment of my happiness and the happiness of those that I love and respect.  The trees in my life were suffocating.

       It was time to start clipping these thorny issues at their point of origin.  Some are smaller and weaker, and will be easy enough to pull away immediately.  Some have been growing for years, becoming part of who I am, and will need time, maybe years, to weaken and die.  Some will leave some marks behind, but they will no longer hide the light from me. 

      Either way, this experiment is allowing me to see the world a little more clearly, for good or bad. I hope this leads to a long term change, because life is a journey.  But, just like in my woods, you can’t move forward if you can’t see where you are going.