I wrote a story – Baby Tree, reflecting on my recent journey in discovering neurodiversity and mental health labels. Sharing in the hope that it encourages others facing their own unusual journeys through life.
A longed for baby tree, born from generations of wild, lush forests and woodlands.
As this baby tree started to grow, she tried to be like the other trees around her.
She tried and she tried. Eventually she tried to hide some of her branches to fit other’s pictures.
The tree got so sad that her branches drooped and all her leaves fell off.
As others wondered if the tree was completely broken, the tree stated to find her roots.
She had been trying so hard to work out what sort of tree she was supposed to be, that she hadn’t noticed her roots starting to grow.
The tree roots had discovered the river of life, flowing beneath and around her. The river of deep peace and abundant life.
The tree wanted this to be a nice story, with a neat, happy ending. But the tree is still growing, the branches are unfolding, the leaves are unfurling, and you will know the tree by its fruit. Most important of all, the tree has discovered her roots, holding her firm through the anxiety and uncertainty of a story that is still being written.
