Twisted, Rooted, and Still Alive

 

Since being in Arizona, I’ve gone on a lot of hikes. The desert has its own kind of beauty—raw, ancient, and honest. But the thing that keeps catching my attention?

The trees.

They’re twisted. Mangled. Some look like they were born that way, but you can tell it’s not natural. Something shaped them—something powerful. Wind. Water. The weight of time. Maybe even the memory of the ocean that used to cover this land long ago.

And yet, despite everything…
They’re still standing.

Their roots run deep into the mountains. You can see some of them—exposed, clinging to rock, tangled like they’ve been gripping for their lives. These trees have been through hell. But they haven’t let go.

Even the ones that are mostly dead—dry, hollow, almost ghostlike—still have something alive. A random branch reaching out with bright green leaves. One part of the whole still saying, “I’m not done.”

And when they are dead, truly dead?
They still stand.
Strong. Solid. Unmoving.
Proof that they mattered. Proof that they made it.

Still standing. Still strong.

Exposed roots and all, clinging to red rock.

This tree in Sedona has one branch still alive.

I couldn’t help but feel a deep connection.

So many of us feel like those trees.

Twisted by trauma. Bent by grief. Shaped by things we never chose—abuse, loss, abandonment, addiction, shame. We carry scars so old they feel like part of our bark. And maybe we think we’re too broken to go on.

But we’re not.

Because even when the majority of us feels gone, some part of us still reaches for the light.
Even when life has hollowed us out, our roots remember.
And even if all we can do is stand still, we are still standing.

You don’t need to be whole to begin again.
You just need to recognize what’s still alive.

---

Baby Step: Find Your One Green Leaf

Look at your life today and ask yourself:
What is still alive in me?

Even if most of you feels numb, lost, or broken—what’s the one small part that still wants to keep going? You may have to dig deep on this one. I remember when I would not have been able to answer this or come up with a single thing. Read on for some ideas.

Maybe it’s a single moment of laughter.
Maybe it’s the dog that depends on you.
Maybe it’s a song that makes you cry, but also breathe.
Maybe it’s the fact that you’re reading this.

Write it down. Name it.
That’s your green leaf.
Water it. Sit with it. Let it remind you: you are still here.

And that means something. That means everything.

If this post resonated with you, you might also like this one about looking back on your life.