Adams Point in Durham.
Adams Point in Durham. Credit: Jean Stimmell photo

Jean Stimmell, retired stone mason and psychotherapist, lives in Northwood and blogs at jeanstimmell.blogspot.com.

Northern white cedar trees flourish in challenging conditions where other more muscular and faster-growing trees cannot compete. The cedar in this photo started life with a view that any yuppie would envy on a cliff overlooking Great Bay.

But over time, climate change exacted a fearsome toll. A rising ocean and battering storms have, like an evil magic trick, cut all the soil from beneath her body.

Yet the tree survives – more than that, she thrives – with uncanny resiliency by sprouting strong side roots back to solid ground. One might think that being so twisted and deformed would turn her into a cripple, a pitiful victim. But instead, her trauma has transformed her self into a tree of striking beauty, a work of art.

Under the right circumstances, surviving hardship and trauma can create a special kind of growth. It’s not uncommon. I’ve watched it happen to some of my patients. Of course, they, along with the cedar tree, would never choose this path, preferring to grow trauma-free, straight, and lush in perfect soil instead. But who among us gets to decide what kind of a high tide we might face?

But there is a caveat. To achieve this creative growth, survivors have to resist the natural urge to avoid the agonizing emotions and thoughts that surround the traumatic event. As Scott Barry Kaufman  reveals in Scientific American, “it’s only through shedding our natural defense mechanisms and approaching the discomfort head on, viewing everything as fodder for growth, that we can start to embrace the inevitable paradoxes of life.”

Kaufman lists seven possible growth areas that can spring from adversity, including creative growth. For example, he shows how severe physical issues didn’t diminish the careers of various prominent painters. Instead, the crisis unlatched “new possibilities for their art by breaking old habits, provoking disequilibrium, and forcing the artists to generate alternative strategies to reach their creative goals.

As a result of his research, Kaufman has become a big believer in art therapy and expressive writing to hasten recovery after trauma. My cedar tree continues to do her part by being a muse and model for anyone wishing to sketch or write about her.