Deeply rooted
If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know I’m happiest outside. You also know this neurodivergent brain of mine is endlessly curious about how people grow, heal, and make sense of the world around them. Nature is my favorite place to reflect. Walking through the woods without an agenda quiets all the noise and chatter in my brain. I pay attention to what rises to the surface without giving it too much attention unless it’s something worth sitting with.
Recently, I found myself looking up into the canopy of a tree that, at first glance, didn’t look particularly healthy. The leaves weren’t as full as the others around it, and my mind immediately judged the health of the tree by what I could see. Then another thought popped into my head. I wonder what’s happening underground. What happens to a tree’s root system as it ages? That question stayed with me as I continued walking and sent me down one of those winding trails of thought that only seems to happen when I’ve given my brain space to wander.
I realized I was making assumptions about the life of a tree based entirely on its canopy. I had no idea whether it was in a season of repair, shedding, or conserving energy. I couldn’t see whether its roots were reaching deeper into the earth, finding water, strengthening, or quietly doing the work that keeps a tree alive.
Thinking about that, I started to realize we do the same thing with people. This isn’t some novel idea but it was one that settled with me and made me start thinking.
We spend so much of our lives comparing canopies. We notice someone’s appearance, career, accomplishments, relationships, body, confidence, or success because those are the parts we can see. We make snap judgments based on what is visible while knowing almost nothing about what is happening beneath the surface.
We don’t know what storms they’ve weathered. We don’t know where they’re struggling, what they’re grieving, what they’re healing from, or how much work they’ve done to become the person standing in front of us. We also don’t know whether they’re standing tall because of deep roots or simply because they haven’t encountered the storm that reveals them yet.
The same is true when we look at ourselves. Our culture teaches us to invest heavily in the canopy. We worry about our hair, our skin, our weight, our clothes, our image, and how we’re perceived. None of those things are wrong. I care about my appearance and put a lot of effort into how I look, so this isn’t a judgment. It’s simply an invitation to get curious with me.
Trees need healthy leaves. They serve an important purpose. I’m not suggesting we throw caution to the wind or stop caring for the external landscape. Healthy leaves matter. Taking care of our bodies, our appearance, and the way we present ourselves is a beautiful expression of self respect.
The problem begins when we mistake the canopy for the foundation. The roots are the foundation. Kindness, Compassion, Integrity, Humility, Courage, Love, Wisdom, and Patience. These are the things that deepen over time if we intentionally cultivate them. Hair will turn gray and faces will wrinkle. Our bodies will change. It’s inevitable. Every season leaves its mark on the canopy because that’s what seasons do.
However, the roots have a different invitation. They ask us to become more compassionate than we were ten years ago. More patient, more emotionally mature, more honest, more forgiving, more grounded, and more able to love well. Those things are not taken away by age. If anything, age gives them room to grow. Comparison loses much of its power when we stop measuring canopies and start tending to roots.
Think about this. No one can truly measure another person’s inner world. We can’t see the quiet choices they make when no one is watching. We can’t measure their integrity, their resilience, their capacity to repair after failure, or their willingness to keep growing. Those things don’t announce themselves the way a beautiful canopy does.
The tree leaves reminded me that what matters most is often hidden. A tree doesn’t become stronger by competing with the canopy beside it. It becomes stronger by sending its roots deeper into the soil. Leaves come and go and branches break. Storms reshape what is visible but the roots continue their work.
The same is true for us. Growing roots isn’t something that happens by accident. It happens every time we choose integrity over image. Every time we practice compassion instead of judgment. Every time we stay curious instead of defensive. Every time we choose to repair instead of avoid. Every time we intentionally spend time in places, with people, and in communities that call us into deeper character instead of greater comparison.
The older I get, the less interested I am in having the most impressive canopy. I want roots that continue growing through every season of life. Roots that allow me to weather storms without losing myself. Roots that make me more compassionate, more loving, more emotionally mature, and more grounded than I was the year before.
I share workouts, adventures, and the occasional selfie. I enjoy fitness. I enjoy taking care of my skin. I enjoy becoming physically stronger. Those are all parts of my canopy, and I’m grateful for them. They’re also the easiest parts of me to compare.
The older I get, the more I long for relationships that move beyond the canopy. I want people who are curious about what’s underneath the workouts, the skincare routine, the adventures, and the photos. I want to know the roots they’re tending, and I want to be known for mine.
When all is said and done, I don’t want my life to be remembered for the condition of my leaves. I want it to be remembered for the depth of my roots. I want to become someone whose kindness runs deeper than her appearance, whose integrity outlasts her youth, whose compassion grows with every season, and whose inner life becomes more beautiful as the outer one inevitably changes.
That’s the kind of growth I’m interested in cultivating, both in my own life and through this little corner of the internet. My hope for this blog has never been to simply share information. It’s to create a space where we can slow down, get curious, and cultivate roots that grow a little deeper with every season. If these reflections help you become a little more compassionate, a little more grounded, a little more connected to yourself and the people around you, then this space is doing exactly what I hoped it would.
Sending you all my love,
Melissa💛