The dependencies of humans
Happy Sunday, Soothers. Since I've moved out to rural Virginia, I've made friends with many trees here. There are the gathering of sycamores in our yard, who have to be decades if not hundreds of years old, who drop sticks in winter, shed bark in spring, and litter and protect our yard with aspects of themselves. There are the tall and towering white spruces up the trail I walk every day, that grace me with their generous scent that reminds me of my childhood summers in Wyoming. There's the massive knotted and gnarled oak in my neighbor's yard, which has grown around a stone wall, that I'm convinced was here to witness the Civil War and the burning of his family's barn.
The other day I noticed a new-to-me tree on the side of a trail; it was a tree that was almost half-uprooted, and leaning heavily on another upright tree for support. The leaning tree didn't look like it was doing so well; caught halfway between total uprooting, but with some roots still straining to stay in the ground. But the other tree didn't look so great, either. It was buckling under the weight of trying to hold up this other tree, and I wondered how over the winter this situation would play out for both of them.
Trees have long been wise teachers for me, only deepening the lessons they have to share as I've learned more about how they communicate with, protect each other, and act as families and networks of a sort in forests.
And so the scene of those two trees also reminded me of a particular lesson I've long been teaching myself, and others:
The lessons of codependency, hyper-independence, and inter-dependency.
Codependence is often when we're relying on others around us to feel okay, so we can feel okay.
Hyperindependence is when we refuse to rely on others at all, even a little bit; we assure ourselves and others that we can do it all by ourselves.
Interdependence is when we have a healthy mix of behaviors: We can stand on our own, and don't need to rely on others so that we feel okay, but we're able to ask for help, be vulnerable and rely on community when we need to, and reciprocate as well.
Let's take a deeper look at what trees have taught me in my life about each of these areas:
Codependency: If you have codependent conditioning, it means you're often lacking in boundaries, feeling resentful, needing to reach out to people to confirm how they are feeling about you, need to make sure the emotions of everybody around you are "okay," controlling others' behaviors and actions, and more. I used to do this constantly and thought it was the surefire ticket to ME feeling okay. If everybody around me felt okay about themselves — and, more importantly, okay about ME— then I was safe. As I started my codependency deconditioning, I adopted some of this tree wisdom after spending a lot of time in nature and realizing how deeply connected I feel to trees. I thought of trees like the one I saw recently on the trail, that can only survive if a whole other tree holds her up, and how that drains the lifeforce of both trees. I began to think of myself as a tree that wanted to be healthy and safe all on her own. A healthy tree is concerned with her roots doing well, with absorbing sun and rain and ground, with staying sturdy on its own. It enjoys being around other trees, sure, but it doesn't give all of its energy trying to entwine its branches with another tree. That would only result in both trees being too entwined and dependent and ultimately unhealthy for both. I want my roots to feel good because I am taking care of them. And the fact is, my attempts to try to make another person's roots the way I think they should be denies them the chance to make their own roots strong. It also drains energy from MY roots. Or if I'm demanding another person (tree) holds up my entirety of "okayness," that will drain the life force eventually of the other tree. So whenever I feel my codependent tendencies rise up I double down on self-care: I cook a meal for myself. I work out. I read a book. I meditate. My codependent URGE is to reach out to my boyfriend, friend, whoever to confirm they are thinking about me and feeling good, but that wouldn't solve the issue at hand: it's my roots that need tending to, not theirs.
Hyperindependence: I've also deeply struggled, while being codependent in romantic relationships in particular, with being ultra and hyper-independent in almost every other area of my life. I would be terrified to ask others for help or be vulnerable in front of them, or honestly god forbid I cry in front of ANYBODY! Like, I remember, one day I needed to drive somewhere, and I didn't own a car at the time. Instead of asking any of my many friends who owned cars and would have been happy to loan me theirs, I didn't tell anybody, I rented a car from an airport an hour away, and took the metro there and out, just so I didn't have to ask anybody for help. This is the hyper-independent tree, the one far, far away from any other trees or a network of forest communication and help. I find that this often shows up for people who struggle with something I call “burden mentality.” Sure, we know we struggle with life like anybody else. Sure, we face problems. Sure, we have our ups and downs. Sure, some stuff could be better, but we have it pretty good. Sure, maybe we’d like to feel like we could do less, be kinder to ourselves, have other people take on some of our stuff, let everybody know how tired and lonely and confused we are sometimes… But obviously that can never happen because WE HAVE TO DO ALL OF LIFE BY OURSELVES! WE COULD NEVER ASK ANYBODY FOR HELP!? HAHA WHAT?!? HAVE PEOPLE THINK WE’RE NOT TOTALLY PERFECT AND CAPABLE OR THAT WE DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE DOING? ASK FOR HELP?!? MUST BE NICE! I’m sort of joking, but sort of not. Burden mentality is a real response to trauma and emotional wounding that convinces us that it’s not safe to reach out for help vulnerably, to display that we have actual needs. Take it from one who’s been there: It doesn’t have to be this way. You don't have to be that tree, all alone by herself outside of the forest, with only her own roots to rely on.
And that's when we turn to...
Interdependence: This is the community. This is the forest that watches out for each other. These are the trees standing up straight, on their own roots, nourishing themselves, but also sending each other warning signals, sending each other nutrients when they need it, sending each other water, helping their communities, their species. From this Smithsonian Magazine article: "Since Darwin, we have generally thought of trees as striving, disconnected loners, competing for water, nutrients and sunlight, with the winners shading out the losers and sucking them dry. The timber industry in particular sees forests as wood-producing systems and battlegrounds for survival of the fittest. There is now a substantial body of scientific evidence that refutes that idea. It shows instead that trees of the same species are communal, and will often form alliances with trees of other species. Forest trees have evolved to live in cooperative, interdependent relationships, maintained by communication and a collective intelligence similar to an insect colony. These soaring columns of living wood draw the eye upward to their outspreading crowns, but the real action is taking place underground, just a few inches below our feet."
The trees are all connected. They're invested in each other's survival, and even their thriving. The article goes on: Why do trees share resources and form alliances with trees of other species? Doesn’t the law of natural selection suggest they should be competing? “Actually, it doesn’t make evolutionary sense for trees to behave like resource-grabbing individualists,” [Suzanne Simard] says. “They live longest and reproduce most often in a healthy stable forest. That’s why they’ve evolved to help their neighbors.” (emphasis mine)
And this is what I invite you into, today.
If you see yourself in codependent or hyperindependent behavior, have compassion for yourself. Past woundings and our current cultural conditioning create and then encourage those behaviors.
But take a moment to dream a different world, one where you were in reciprocal behaviors with beloveds, with neighbors, with community members and neighbors. Where you watched out for each other, where meal trains came up during births and deaths and illnesses, or it felt safe to ask for help from others in a moment of challenge. Where you could share tender emotions openly, without fear of being shamed, but instead were witnessed and held. Where you were seen in humanity and celebrated for that very humanity.
Let me invite you into a forest, a community of reciprocity and humanity and interdependency, in my year-long program, Soothe, which begins in January. (Enrollment with access to bonuses worth $2500 ends November 30.)
The beating heart of Soothe is the small groups, where you're placed in a group with 3-5 other women and meet with them twice a month, with me facilitating. In the groups, we slowly get to know each other, begin to share and honor each other, and hold each other in our full humanity.
Read some testimonials from earlier Soothers below about the power of their small groups:
Lynn: "The peer support of small groups was invaluable--seeing the examples of what other people were going through and how applying the tools we were learning benefitted them is so permission-giving and motivating. The small groups were an incredible experience. I have never felt so clearly seen and cared for by a group of people.”
Carolyn: “During the small groups, I felt like I learned so much from hearing other women's perspectives, experiences and shared vulnerability.”
Jess: “Meeting and hearing from the women in my group was such a gorgeous and healing part of the course.”
If you’re ready to be in community, to dip your toe in the waters of vulnerability, to have gentle accountability, to try life differently, to shed the roots of codependency and hyper-independence, Soothe (and I!) are ready for you.
And put down your heavy burden. The women in Soothe and I are standing by ready to help you carry the load. Simply book a free and no-pressure discovery call here.
Enrollment with bonuses closes November 30th, (full enrollment closes Dec. 18th) and your life-changing year starts in January.
Imagine how connected, nourished by others, held by warm community, you could feel.
You never have to do it alone again.