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The Willow Tree
A few years ago, I wrote about the willow tree.
How its strength comes not from rigidity, but from its roots, deep and unseen, and from its grace in motion. The way it bends with the wind. Yields to the seasons. Moves without breaking.
The willow, I wrote, survives the storm not because it resists but because it surrenders with wisdom.
Ironically, not long after that journal entry, a willow on our peninsula fell in a storm.
Uprooted. Laid out on her side.
I thought she was gone.
But she wasn’t.
Even horizontal, her roots found their way back into the earth.
And over time, she began to grow again—sideways, curved, changed… but alive.
That tree is still thriving.
Bent, yes. Different, yes. But also, a living testament to something I keep learning over and over:
Healing doesn’t always look like standing tall.
Sometimes it looks like starting over while still connected.
Sometimes it looks like growing in a new direction.
You can be both rooted and flexible.
Both altered and whole.
Both broken open and still becoming.
And maybe, just maybe, the storm didn’t destroy you.
Maybe it showed you another way to grow. 🌿
-Elizabeth
