The Ash Tree

October 8, 2016

It is a rainy, very rainy morning.. we've entered the season(s) that everyone talks about when you mention you are from the Northwest. "How do you manage to get through the rainy fall and winter and.. pretty much Spring too?" "Do you find it depressing?" Thankfully, my moods are not really affected by the rain, but I have learned that I HAVE to grab every amount of sun I can possibly get when it is there.  I become frantic about getting the kids out the door and MAKING them (and me) soak up the sun.. like we are solar panels who have to get out in the light to recharge. I guess it's like a lot of things in life, "you don't know what you got till it's gone".. and so when the sun comes back I notice my friends and neighbours are all out cherishing its presence too.

I tossed and turned this morning, wanting to sleep more, but my mind was full of thoughts, ideas, questions, concerns, inspiration, hesitation, and the to do lists.. and the love/hate relationship I have with to do lists.

Somehow, out of my swirling thoughts, came this idea of doing a blog.  A friend recently encouraged me to write my story, and it seems like typing has become easier than writing with pen and paper. Sad, but true. I do have a journal that I actually write in though to keep up that almost extinct form of communication (pretty sure my friend didn't even think about whether it would be typed or handwritten, but I used to fill notebooks with my writing so I thought about it). Also, the other reason to blog is that I've realized the importance of sharing my story with others. I've experienced how quite often we bring healing to others and they do the same for us by the sharing of our stories.
So, here I am. Blogging.
And then came the question of what would I call it.. and then me laughing at myself as I came up with the title "Song of the Ash Tree." What? Couldn't it be something simple like "Ashley's Thoughts" or "Life of Ashley"? Anyway, I decided to accept the fact that I'm kind of a hippie, poet, artistic, musical person and that the title suited me well.

Therefore, this first blog shall be about the ash tree and my Anglo-Saxon roots.

When I got to travel to the United Kingdom in 1998, I decided to do a study of my name which I knew was of Anglo-Saxon origin. The most literal meaning of my name I found was "from the Ash tree grove".  So, obviously, I then needed to study the ash tree. I vaguely remember I wrote in my journal back then (which is currently in a box somewhere) that the ash tree was a sturdy, flexible tree that grew well in harsh environments. Ha! Wow. I'm pretty sure my parents were not aware of the qualities of the ash tree when they named me. And I'm sure they were not aware of the harsh reality that I was about to grow up in. The harsh environment of alcoholism, then suicide, then motherlessness. Maybe my mother did study the name (she was a teacher) and maybe she chose the name deliberately. My dad just remembers that I was either going to be Ashley or Stacy, and I think they were kind of influenced by the Southern classic "Gone with the Wind", and chose Ashley (even though it was a male name in that story).  I also recently discovered that there is an Ashley River in Charleston, SC, which I've heard was one of my mom's favourite places to visit. And that is kinda crazy because some of my old friends will remember that I called myself "Ashlee River" (signed my letters and papers that way) for about two years. Interesting.

Here is what I found today about the ash tree:
Ash is a hardwood and is hard, dense, tough and very strong but elastic, extensively used for making bows, tool handles, baseball bats, hurleys and other uses demanding high strength and resilience.

Very strong, but elastic. I recently performed the song "Elastic Heart" by Sia. "You won't see me fall apart, 'cause I've got an elastic heart." 

My brother describes me as resilient. He saw me go from being a confused, depressed little girl staring blankly at a TV screen, to someone who could stand in front of crowds and sing my heart out, and someone who would learn to care deeply for others and be strong for others. He brought tears to my eyes recently when we were talking about how I am handling some current struggles in my life. He said, "Your friends are all probably looking at you wondering how you are not falling apart right now.. but you've been doing this (surviving) since you were three". 

The problem is my strength can actually be (and probably is) my greatest weakness. Strength is what made my best friend from high school (and other close friends and relatives) call me "reserved". Strength has allowed me to sometimes isolate from community, and just manage on my own. Strength has made me an enabler (fixer of other people's problems). Strength has allowed me to just "keep on keeping on" when there were times I probably should have allowed myself to collapse.

I am now in a season of allowing myself to fall. Fall into the arms of my Saviour and into the arms of safe community. And hey.. guess what?  It is Fall. This ash tree is going to shed some leaves and concentrate on her inner growth for awhile.