Banyan Day

My kids love banyan trees, especially my son. I love how they appear to be something right off the pages of a mythical novel or enchanted, morose poem. Something about how their shoots grow down to the earth, rather than up into the light, is eerie and depressing, but beautiful at the same time. I am not sure if this unique characteristic is what fascinates my son, but he loves these trees. Every time we pass one, he will call out its existence, "Mommy! A banyan tree! A banyan tree!" Or maybe it was my grooming because I have always loved these trees, too, and encouraged them to appreciate their unique beauty.

This morning I headed out for a leisurely run. I stepped outside into the morning haze at sunrise, bracing myself for the humid greeting. Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as yesterday and the day before, so I happily skipped right into some kind of warm up pace. The ocean was quiet, serene and calm. I passed a large banyan on my way through our beach neighborhood, and immediately thought of my kids and what it means to be a mom on this Mother's Day. I think my favorite part about being a mom is that I get to so closely experience their natural curiosity and wonder about the world around them. The questions never stop, the learning never ceases, and the knowledge only builds on the previous. Maybe in that way, we are like banyan trees? We are constantly spreading our roots to become bigger, better, and cover more ground.

After all, kids start out as little epiphytes, like the banyan, needing a host to take care of them until they can spread their roots out and provide for themselves. And, like the banyan, their growth and need for space never ceases, it only increases with age. I can only hope that my kids grow with the same diligence and character as a banyan, mysterious and strong, determined, if sometimes seemingly headed the wrong way. In the end, it is a beautiful picture and speaks volumes about personality.