A Woman’s Essence • Replanting Trees

Women are like trees. As they grow in years they also grow in their power to provide shelter and to live in full bloom.

Some people don’t like trees. Trees strike them as messy — they sway and grow chaotically against the perpendicular lines of houses and fences.

Some people want to cut down trees, make them quiet, and make sure they no longer dance.

A woman’s essence is not tame, it is wild; it rattles, flames, jumps and limps forward to feel light, rain, and nourishment.

Some cut down that which blossoms and flowers. They cut down women who seem too much and too spirited, or too quiet and still. They block the sunlight so the psyche cannot grow and sever the tree from the ground so it cannot thrive.

But we can dig up the stump of the tree and transplant her. We can give her new ground, sunlight and water. Although she may look dry and deformed, underground where we can’t see, her hidden reservoir is secretly filling up. The central trunk begins to grow tendrils. She may not be as thick and vast as she was but she has come alive.

No matter what people do to us there is inside us a force that will never die. The force becomes more and more incessant and insistent the older we get. We are not inadequate, but enormous and capable of making a mark on the world.

Dangerous, wild woman can never die even if they are shorn of their limbs, their leaves and their flowers. There is a golden fuse at the centre that will always stay alive.

Inspired by Dangerous Old Women by Dr Clarissa Pinkola Estés

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About Katie Paul

Embracing my midlife sexy while exploring modern love & relationships • Devoted to all things beautiful • Master of Arts in creative writing & non-fiction writing • Join the hottest group on FB → Sassy Ageless Women

18 thoughts on “A Woman’s Essence • Replanting Trees

  1. There’s a tree in my yard my husband planted before he died a few years ago. Like me, it went through a tough time; lost all of it’s leaves and wasn’t thriving. Mired in my own grief, I forgot about his tree. About the same time I began to rejoin the world, I began watering and fertilizing that tree. While neither one of us will be what we could have been, if he’d been here to tend us, we’ve planted new roots and are here to stay. Brenda

    1. While neither one of us will be what we could have been, if he’d been here to tend us, we’ve planted new roots and are here to stay.
      So, so beautiful. Thank you.

  2. Beautiful piece of writing, best I’ve read about older women in a long time. Goes to show too, that you don’t have to be wordy to be powerful. Thanks

    Anita

  3. Beautiful analogy. I feel like no matter how much nature has taken away some of my branches and leaves through the years, my roots are so deep and firmly planted that nothing will destroy me.

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