Rocks: A New Way of Looking at Change

"Trees cannot deny the effects of a forest fire. Rocks do not try to hide the smoothness that results from the relentless pounding of waves upon them. Icebergs do not feign being untouched by the rising temperatures of our planet." Chani Nicholas

I read this line just days after crashing my knee into a rock that looked very much like the one above, except pointier. At the time I read it, I didn't have much love for rocks, let me tell you.

But, as someone who has done a lot of reflection about trees (TouchingTrees, anyone?), I realized that I've probably spent far too little time reflecting on those things that I've often taken for granted...or even cursed, as in the case of landscape rock or rocks that trip me while hiking.

This was quite the epiphany for me: Rocks gain their shape and their character by endless exposure to wind and water. They get rock-wrinkles from the trauma they endure. They split and they crumble, and yet some remain solid and unmoveable. In so many ways, they are metaphors for the tumbled existence we all have.

The tree metaphor is a great way to describe flexible reactions to change. Trees bend in the wind, they experience seasons, they grow, and they lose limbs. They whisper and they cry. Some scientists even say they communicate with each other through neural pathways connected by their roots.

Rocks, though...rocks provide a different metaphor for change. Rocks endure. Rocks reach with patience, and a gradual acceptance, towards change. In some situations, rocks are the epitome of zen--they are in oneness with all that goes on around them, however it may shape them.

Unless they are smashed, of course. Then they react swiftly and decidedly and serve a different narrative. The rocks that break on impact, that disintegrate into sand...those rocks are proof that trauma can create something new and unique.

When we have troubled relationships, applying a metaphor to our situation can be really helpful. As you are in the middle of upheaval, thinking of yourself as a tree bolsters your trust in the ability to bend without breaking, to recover and grow. After a difficult time that's, perhaps, left scars or lasted for a very long time, it may be helpful to think of your changed essence as the smoothness caused by enduring through trouble or the newness caused by tremendous impact.

We're entering a season that brings us outdoors more than at other times of the year. The next time you have a moment to reflect, see if you can find a rock whose story seems to be like your own. Maybe it's one that's been worn smooth, or one that's grown cracked, or even one that's gained beautiful and sharp edges. 

Feel free to share your rock story in the comments below or email me at jennimcmc@touchingtrees.com. I look forward to hearing from you!

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Thank You, Anxiety

In recent weeks, I've had the opportunity to talk to quite a few people about thanking or being grateful to the emotions they most wish they didn't feel.

"I hate when I get this way," I've heard. And I understand. We all carry these parts of us around that we wish we could undo or do differently.

Personally, I hate that I get super anxious when other members of my family walk the dog. "You aren't keeping him close enough! He'll lunge at that person walking toward us! He won't learn to walk well for me if everyone else lets him do what he wants!"

I hate that I worry what other people in the Target parking lot will think if I'm parked with my blinker on waiting for a spot. "Am I in their way? Are they going to honk? Do they think I'm selfish?"

See how that goes? That anxiety is annoying, time-consuming, and often completely unnecessary. I can't stand it when it happens because it makes me want to avoid walking the dog as a family or going to Target during busy times. So much of the time I'm torn between the actual anxiety and my frustration WITH the anxiety.

**Alannis Morrisette's "Thank U" -- an anthem to thanking those things we really don't want to...(click link to play/watch)

When people I work with share parts of themselves that they dislike, or even loathe, I find myself looking for the protective purpose that emotion is serving. Is the over-thinking all night long protecting you from missing something that could throw your whole next day off? Is it protecting you by covering all the bases? Is the nervousness you feel when you're in a room full of people you don't know protecting you from being judged or rejected?

When relationships are in crisis and at risk of breaking, those parts of ourselves that we like the least get activated the most. They do that because they are trying to protect us from further hurt or rejection. But, sometimes their efforts backfire and exacerbate the very situation we were trying to avoid--so we get mad at the part that tried to protect us.

Consider those times when you've been upset about something your partner did, but your worry about conflict caused you to keep it all inside. By trying to protect you from the conflict, your worry has given you a secret you now have to caretake. And, because you have a secret you're keeping from your partner, you're likely to pull away...which can cause more conflict. At the end of all that, you find yourself mad that you're conflict-averse and judge yourself for not being more forthright.

**

What I've begun doing for myself and recommending to others is really simple but counter-intuitive.

Consider how that emotion is trying to protect you. Then thank it for its service.

You'll be amazed at how quickly the tension in your mind and body goes down and how much relief you feel. Thank you, anger. Thank you, depression. Thank you, anxiety. Thank you, conflict-averseness. Thank you, social fear....

If you try this at home (which you CAN!), I'm curious how it turned out for you. Feel free to comment on this post or send me your thoughts at jennimcmc@touchingtrees.com. You can also find me on Facebook.