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Deep Roots, Gentle Growth


by Juliana Fabio, LCSW


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When you stand beneath a Coast Live Oak—especially the old oaks that anchor the hillsides of Santa Barbara—there’s a feeling of steadiness that you can almost sense in your bones. Oaks don’t rush. They don’t force their growth. They stretch slowly, adapt to their environment, weather storms, and remain deeply rooted through seasons of drought, wind, and change. In many ways, the journey of emotional healing mirrors the life of an oak tree. As a therapist, I often return to the oak tree metaphor to help clients understand their own resilience, especially during times of grief, transition, or overwhelm. Nature gives us models for how to grow gently while staying rooted in what sustains us.


An oak tree’s strength begins underground. Its root system expands quietly and steadily, making it possible for the tree to withstand high winds and long dry seasons. As humans, our “roots” are the internal and external resources that hold us when life feels uncertain—our values, relationships, coping tools, spiritual practices, body awareness, and inner resilience. In grief, transitions and emotional difficulties, those roots may feel shaken or difficult to access. What once felt stable may suddenly seem fragile or unfamiliar. But like the oak, your foundation is still there. Your roots may need tending, support, or nourishment, but they remain part of you. In therapy, we work gently to rediscover those roots—breath by breath, memory by memory, moment by moment—so you can feel more grounded and supported.


Oaks grow slowly, sometimes imperceptibly, yet every season they move toward the light. Healing works the same way. It’s not linear, and it doesn’t follow a timeline. There are seasons of expansion and seasons of stillness, times when you feel movement and times when even getting through the day is enough. Gentle growth is still growth. Small steps still count. And rest is part of the process. As a somatic therapist, I often invite clients to notice the subtle shifts in their bodies—a softening of the breath, a loosening of the shoulders, a moment of presence or clarity. These moments may feel small, but they are signs of deeper healing taking place beneath the surface.


Oak trees are strong not because they are rigid, but because they are flexible. Their branches bend with the wind rather than break against it. Emotional strength looks similar. It’s not about enduring everything alone or “being strong” in a way that shuts down your feelings. True resilience comes from allowing yourself to feel, adapt, seek support, and move with life’s changes rather than against them. In grief, emotional strength might look like letting yourself cry, reaching out to someone you trust, taking a break when your body feels overwhelmed, honoring your needs without apology, finding moments of meaning or connection, or giving yourself permission to grow at your own pace. Strength isn’t force—it’s flexibility, compassion, and openness.


Whenever you feel unsteady or unsure, imagine the oak tree: rooted, patient, steady, and wise. Ask yourself what helps you feel rooted today, where gentle growth is happening in your life, and how you can allow yourself to bend rather than break. There is no rush to become your “old self” again. There is only the invitation to keep growing—slowly, tenderly, and true to who you are becoming. You are more resilient than you know, your roots are deeper than you realize, and your growth—no matter how gentle—is enough.

 
 
 

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© 2025 Juliana Mott Fabio, LCSW

Licensed Clinical Social Worker Corp

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