Getting to the roots, Engaging to the core

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 24 October 2016 | 1 Comments

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Two weeks ago my beloved 50-foot silver maple tree succumbed to high winds and uprooted my lawn and my world. I've just spent five days taking my world back, not replanting to replace or duplicate, but embracing the opportunity to reach deeper, higher, differently. 

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A life uprooted: seeing the possibilities

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 16 October 2016 | 3 Comments

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Last week I was sulky because of the rain pelting on my window. I had a powerful lesson handed to me a few hours after that, as our century-old giant silver maple succumbed to hours of intense wind and tipped over, literally ripping its roots out of the lawn. The body truly can process a trillion bits of informaiton in an instant: there was terror at what had caused the groan and thud, shock at opening our door into the maelstrom and seeing nothing but leaves, gratitude that the house and our power seemed intact, then a pall of pure and utter emptiness. We have lived in iour home for 20 years. The tree was what drew our eye to the out-of-the-way property in the first place. Its rustling in the summer was soothing, its shade cool, its unique size a proud part of our yard, and our street. 
Now, in a blink, it was uprooted and splayed across our yard and driveway life a discarded giants's toy, leave that once touched the sky now trailing the ground, branches once warmed by sun now buried in the dirt at the points of impact. There are the logical steps that followed: power crews, telephone crew, tree removal team, but behind it all was plain and simple grief. This was a devastating surprise, a loss not completely unexpected - nothing lives forever - but not anticipated right this minute. No more shade, no more sturdy trunk or embracing branches, just an empty lawn and a crater where the root bed parted ways with the earth. 

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Move Over Pumpkin Pie: things for which this writer is thankful

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 10 October 2016 | 3 Comments

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Rarely do I gush about gratitude, because with all the good in my life, it's easier to list things for which I'm ungrateful. Snakes, rain on my beach day, a blank page that screams at me to fill it while my inner voice tells me what a lousy writer I am, those things that I think I could do without. 

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