A Boost
a poem about climbing trees and lifting each other up
These last few weeks among the trees have been a gift I didn’t know I needed or even wanted. A boost for my body and spirit, courage, confidence, and creativity.
Trees are all around me and I’m realizing how easily I overlook them or miss them all together.
I’m walking more. Breathing better. Thinking clearer. Reflecting deeper. Speaking less. Listening intently. Shifting perspective. Expanding ideas. Settling restlessness. Resolving conflict. Shedding worry. Resting. Sleeping soundly. Healing.
My life long fear of fall falling away.
On a recent visit to “the” tree, as I approached, I noticed there were two people standing close to its trunk. Having what appeared to be a meaningful conversation. Not wanting to interrupt I found a bench on the other side of the path. This seat allowed for a different view. One I might not have encountered otherwise. Taking it all in, I was reminded of a booster seat I had as a child.
The seat was made of wood. It had a back that could go up or down. I sat on it at the dining room table and sometimes on the sofa. Or in front of the television. When you put the back down it turned into a stool. I stood on at the bathroom and kitchen sink. Or in the hallway to reach the games and puzzles on the closet shelves. It gave me a needed and wanted boost.
Today I’m thinking about boosts. About all the people and places in the world suffering from the devastation of natural disasters and the intense fear of the next storm coming. About October 7th and the passage of one year since Hamas’ hostages were taken and the Israeli assault on Gaza intensified and now has spread to other countries. About escalating violence and hunger throughout the world. About rising hatred of immigrants and migrants and our transgender siblings. About the pending presidential election here in the United States and the lies, chaos, and threats it is fueling.
Today I’m thinking about boosts. About the people working to help friends and strangers survive and begin the long road of recovery. About neighbors coming together. About peacemakers and prophets and those brave souls risking their lives to speak against war, rage, and revenge, to name the sins of nations even when they stand alone. About the beauty of diversity, the wisdom and experience that comes from those who look and live and love differently than I do. About the power of personal connection that is stronger than any system and will rise regardless of who is in office.
Today I’m thinking about boosts. Grateful for the seats and stools and special people who have lifted me and elevated me. Guided me through and out of my lowest seasons. Given me access to tables and spaces and healing I couldn’t get to on my own.
Today I’m thinking about boosts. How I can be one for others.
Today I’m thinking about trees and one tree in particular that I am climbed as a child with a boost from a metal chair.
You can read and listen to this week’s poem below. May it remind you of boosts you have received and inspire you to offer boosts to another.
A Boost
©Rebecca Wilson, June 2023
as a kid I climbed trees
not for fun but to get away
from the chaos in the world below
there were two
the one with the best view
was on the right side of the backyard
nestled against a chain link fence
I needed a metal lawn chair to help me get started
but once i reached that first big branch
the path upward was clear
after years of practice
I could do it with my eyes closed
once I reached the top my eyes were wide open
looking with longing curiosity at the world beyond my own fences
and the painful exhaustion of feeling trapped
the tree top taught me the difference between being stuck and being still
of listening with my eyes
and watching with my ears
and breathing with my whole heart
everything looked
and sounded
and felt different
small things bigger
big things smaller
there creativity and wonder
turned barbed wires into soft trampolines
catching my fears
launching new hopes and powerful dreams
on the longest day of the year in this hemisphere
as all these daylight hours feel impassable
and life feels impossible
and every treetop unreachable
there’s a big branch gently calling my name
I remember the metal lawn chair that gave me a boost
and search for what I need to start climbing
believing again
Water-fully Yours,
Rebecca & 10 Camels
Thank you for this boost and all the others that 10 Camels provides.
I’m enjoying your writings on trees. I LOVE the words in the paragraph that begins, “I’m walking more…breathing better…healing.” You remind us, too, that just sitting in a different place, provides a new perspective. What would happen if we just shifted a little to change our view? Thank you for helping us to think about “boosts” that we give and receive.