I Am Like That Of An Oak Tree, Scarred Yet Sturdy

by Keith Erickson

I often think of myself as this sturdy ancient oak tree that has been tucked away in the stilled quietness of the forest. I may have many scars, yet I’ve come to truly believe that each one of them has been a part of the necessary afflictions for which I have had to overcome in order that I may have become what I am today, which is a much better man than I could have ever become without these scars. Each and every one of my scars, like that of the markings of this oak tree, is definitely the measure of my inner growth displayed for the rest of the world to see. 

Today I did something I had never done alone. I stood there naked from the waist up in front of the cracked mirror of my prison cell. My reflection stared back at me as if to say, “I have waited for you to notice me for who I have been to you all these years for a long time my friend”, and all I could do was stare at what I saw standing right there in front of me. 

I was covered from my neck to my feet in tattoos, the fleshly billboard of places that I have been in my life and moments that I wanted to capture beneath my skin through self-expression, and I resembled so many other men that are locked away within these walls. But, I knew the truth as I stood there staring at myself in the reflection. I was a man hiding behind many of my scars for so long that I just wanted to finally crawl out from behind them. 

So, I stood there and began to lift up my arms so that I could explore the rest of my torso. My fingers traced the now matured scars where breathing tubes had once been inserted into my chest, and I went immediately back to my childhood. I had suffered child abuse at the hands of my violent stepfather until he had nearly taken my life. I stood there reliving what it felt like to struggle for my last breath (my lungs had both been collapsed at the hands of this vicious monster who had married my mother and beaten me as a child.) Addicted to heroin, alcohol, and womanizing my mother, he was a scar that I could rarely forget no matter how hard I tried. 

Reality had begun to set in again and I was back within the confinements of my 13X13 foot man made cage, realizing that twenty-five years had gone by. I had been incarcerated most of my life, yet this time over two decades had been handed over to this system controlled by “time” itself and the years were beginning to manifest in my body as it aged before my eyes there in the mirror’s reflection. I may not have been here in this very cell, but nonetheless many others that I have been in, replicated the cold isolation of this very cell where I wake up today. 

Cold concrete floors, walls that leak when it rains outside, and a mattress that is as worn as a folded blanket, but it’s the light shimmering in through my back window that illuminates the faces of my beautiful wife and children upon my wall that reminds me I am still alive despite these scars. There is a life outside of all this and I know this as I stand there for what feels like a lifetime, face to face with my reflection. 

“I’ve come so far”, I thought to myself, “and each day feels like each scar has taught me a lesson inching me closer and closer towards my freedom.” I knew that I had run from many of these scars for which I have had to endure yet was now ready to face them right here and now. 

So, I stepped closer to look deeper into my own eyes staring back at me. Tears became to formulate quickly. I lifted my hands to cover my face as the first tears began to roll down and it was the first time in a long time that I could remember actually crying as a grown man. Then I felt it, felt this courage swell up inside my chest as I dropped my salt stained hands and fingers from my face to hear what it was that my reflection was saying back to me. 

“You are like that of an oak tree”, my reflection said to me, “Your life is measured by the scars that you have been running from, my friend and you must learn how to embrace them if you are ever going to reach your greatest potential Keith”.

My knees began to lower to the cold concrete flooring beneath my feet as the words echoed through my ears from the reflection. I started to understand what my purpose had been all these years. We are all here to live, to learn, and perhaps fail even ourselves when it is necessary to show that we are human and need to be forgiven as much as we are able to forgive others. 

I kneeled down feeling broken, yet stronger in the heart that I had ever felt before. So, I wiped away the last of my tears and began to stand again. I was in fact a tree of oak. I belonged upright standing proud and tall. 

So, you see, yes these scars are mine as yours may be to you, but we are all like the trees in the forest and we will continue to grow. Our measurement in life is not going to be by what has caused us afflictions, but how we continue to manifest into what we were meant to be in this lifetime through them. (Continue to push through the pain and suffering so that you too may find your way as I have. It will come. You will continue to grow my friend. Your own reflection will lead the way if you are just willing to look into the mirror close enough.)

I myself am like that of an oak tree in the forest; I am growth.