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The madrone trees—not the brush called manzanita but full sized madrone trees—have leaves that are scoop shaped and serving spoon sized. These leaves adorn elegant branches that extend out like the graceful arms of posed ballerinas. The trunks of the madrone trees are reddish-orange and stout. They look like gigantic versions of my friend Michele's and my artificially tanned teenage legs back in the 1970's. We used a lotion that quite unnaturally made our skin a color that might have been dazzling on a dun horse, a monarch butterfly or a madrone tree but not a human. Between the rubbed on copper colored tans and the painted in bleached blonde streaks in our hair we—and others on our field hockey team—must have been quite a sight. Oh well. Look back and laugh. That's all a gal can do. Part of the way up the trunk of the madrone is a rough layer of bark as well as a curly, paper thin bark that peels off as it undergoes a shedding process. This detachment of the old bears something new and raw. The madrone tree's brawny torso is then smooth, unblemished and sensuous. Not only is a madrone tree very attractive to look at, it represents an example of how beautiful transformation can be. To see some of the orange parchment-like paper flake off the trunk of the madrone is to notice how the casting off of the extraneous reveals the extraordinary. Although madrone bark, like the human ego, is invested in shielding its host from harm—which obviously is not altogether a bad thing—to constantly carry the shield and wear full body armor is exhausting. Not only that but in an effort to protect ourselves we limit our own mobility. This makes it very difficult for anyone to get close to us and vice versa. However, if we were to lay down our self-imposed and cripplingly burdensome armor, if we were to quiet our fearful egos, we might hear the peaceful voices of our souls and open ourselves up to the possibility of compassion and intimacy. It may feel scary to leave parts of ourselves behind, especially parts that we once perceived to be our protection. During the process of transformation it's not unusual to feel exposed and defenseless. That's the point. When we choose to open ourselves up and communicate from our heart—our core selves rather than our hardened, rigid and resistant selves—we set aside our fear-based position in favor of understanding. Transformation may require us to shed the defensive layers we have used to guard ourselves and this is not a loss. It's a change for the better. Keep in mind we are neither weak nor helpless when we rely on our fortitude and faith. Any apprehensive feelings of vulnerability shall pass as we advance the scale of consciousness. Photos by Marcia Rhoades. |
