built different.

My spirit has been asking me for more quiet lately. More space.
And after a little while of resistance, I finally started to listen and obey.

When my spirit needs peace, I go into the woods.


Nothing is quite like the feeling of a Georgia forest. I’ve been in more exotic places than this, but the woods in Georgia are home to my soul. The sound of hawks overhead, the rustling of deer hooves crunching against pine straw, the fluttering of yellow butterflies and the sunlight glistening through the forest canopy…it's just the right kind of sensory stimulation for my mind and body. 

As I meandered along the Chattahoochee river, one particular tree caught my eye. It was different from most of the other trees–and there were many. This one, was horizontal.

This tree’s roots were planted on the edge of the ground. And the tree, instead of growing upward towards the sky, had grown out, towards the river. It wasn’t small either, it was hefty, and must have been growing horizontally for a long time. 

The way it was shaped–parallel to the ground–enticed me. It was a perfect place to sit.

I guess it wasn’t exactly “perfect”...when I first stepped onto it I noticed the trunk wasn’t quite flat. So I carefully stepped onto it like a balance beam, making sure not to fall into the river. Eventually it flattened out enough for me to set my bag down and find a comfortable seat.

It must sound so simple and trivial, but I was so in love with this tree.
I’m not great at remembering the names of trees and I don’t know what kind this was. But I couldn’t stop feeling the texture of the bark, and gazing at its light brown color that contained spots of purple-ish hues. I looked out at the branches, which took the “normal” trajectory of growing up towards the sun. I looked back at the base of the tree; its roots must have been so strong to hold up its weight like that. 

It felt like such a luxury to get to sit and hover above the river, which was very calm that day. A heron flew by me, and it was so close I could hear the wind whoosh-ing underneath its wings. The glistening of the sun against the calm river lulled me into such a peaceful state that I decided to lie down, one arm supporting the back of my head, the other dangling down towards the water.

I felt so grateful for that tree.
So grateful that this one decided not to grow vertically, but to be different.

I’m sure there’s a scientific reason some trees grow horizontally. But in that moment I really didn’t care to know the “reason”. I believed it just had to grow that way.

This tree was made to be different. 

Its roots were not in the most solid location, yet it persevered. Something in its DNA wanted it to stretch towards the water. Something about it was destined to take a different path. 

–

A couple years ago I was having a hard time. I was going through a lot of changes, and had experienced a few failures in a row. I felt defeated, and like I shouldn’t be where I was; like I should have been farther along, or at a different place. As I cried to my mom at the kitchen table, she said something I’ll never forget,
“You’re different, Carly. You’ve always been different.”

I knew she was right. And I knew that my anguish was caused by comparing myself to a false version of myself I thought I should be.

I thought I should have been more established. I thought I should have settled down by then. I thought I should be more like my brothers, who had their careers, wives, kids, and houses…

But I’m not them. I’m different. Not different in a good or bad way, not particularly unique or special, just…different.

Something in my DNA has always wanted me to take a more wandering path. Something in me stretches out wide, rather than straight up. 

These days I don’t know exactly what I’m growing towards. I don’t know what’s pulling me into the future, other than God itself.

But as I laid down on that tree, which was built different than the other trees, and found immense solace in the way it was made…I felt comfort in the way I’m built. I felt a sense of hope, that maybe others find solace in my differences. 

Maybe there are people out there, meandering on their path, who are grateful that I am exactly the way I am. 

–

As I said, I don’t think I’m particularly unique.
I know that you probably have ways you feel different, too. There are probably things about you that are more “horizontal” than “vertical”. And we live in such a comparison-driven society, that can make us feel ashamed for those differences, and even go to great lengths to morph them into conformity.

The horizontal tree lent me the wisdom, that whatever ways we’re built different, we’re meant to be that way. There are beautiful reasons for our differences. And they may even be blessings to people who need a place to rest.

I’m sending you so much love.
Carly