The Vinedresser's Notebook. Judith Sutera
about a man who traveled to another country to get it for his child. When asked why he had gone to this extreme, he said that it broke his heart to see his daughter cry and he didn’t want to disappoint her. God help anyone who has to deal with her as an adult after being raised in that atmosphere.
This kind of indulgence is one end of the spectrum of discipline. On the opposite end is the stunting that comes from too much discipline. There are many other ways that someone becomes misshapen in his or her formative years. A child may be ridiculed for something he or she enjoys. There may be clear messages that something about that activity is abnormal or unacceptable, as when a boy wants to dance ballet or a girl is too assertive. They may be forced into directions that are not compatible with their own talents or desires. I have met more than one young person who is suffering conflict over the expectation to take up a certain career because of a parent’s attraction to it and not his or her own. An adult may tell a child to stop dreaming and accept the harsh reality of life rather than offer encouragement to think big. An abusive, deprived, or emotionally unbalanced environment can lead to lifelong struggles against the negative messages one has learned.
The failure to give a healthy balance of criticism and praise leaves one unprepared for the real world. Each person must face the way the past has affected the adult he or she has become. You can’t choose where you came from, only where you end up.
“For those first few years, you determine the shape,” the Vinedresser told me. “Every year little canes appear and every year you cut most of them away. In that way the trunk gains in size and strength.”
“At the same time, remember
to feed the roots as well.”
To grow a vine, to establish a vineyard,
you always have to keep making strategic choices.
THE FIRST YEARS ARE THE ROOTS THAT form the foundation for one’s life. A person, like a plant, develops throughout life both above and below the surface. I have seen plants that appear strong and vigorous. Their foliage is impressive and they may even bear fruit. Yet, because of lack of water or some other problem, their roots are shallow. The roots trail along close to the surface and become thin. They provide a modicum of nourishment for the plant but don’t have enough nourishment to develop a strong root system. A storm or strong wind can knock the plant down. Sometimes the roots are almost completely dead before the plant above them withers.
Our parents, our teachers, and other influential adults root us. Without much other information with which to compare it, we believe much of what they say and respond accordingly. A child who is reinforced for self-centered behavior may become more demanding. A child constantly derided or ignored may become more invisible. A child who feels loved and valued may face the world with growing confidence and security.
The challenges we face, the losses we experience, and the values we try to practice can seem like injuries or deprivations on the surface. Yet, as when a vine loses some of its branches, its vital energy is gathered in a deeper place. Some kinds of plants are nourished by dense networks of tiny hair-like roots. Their strength comes from the way these mat together and intertwine. Although each root by itself is frail, they are able to support one another. These kinds of plants are usually small and thick, like grasses.
The strongest root systems for larger plants involve thick, deep root systems. The grapevines reach deep below, harden along the surface, and branch out year after year. The more roots there are and the more sturdy and branched they are, the better the plant can search out what it needs from the soil to live. Such a system also gives the plant a broad and firm base so that it can get taller and stronger and still have a solid footing to keep it stable.
Many kinds of plants have a taproot, a very long and powerful root that runs straight down deep into the earth in addition to the regular system of roots. As it grows larger and deeper, it is able to bring hidden resources to the plant. Some desert plants have taproots that are more than a hundred feet deep, allowing them to get to a water source deep below the surface in an area that appears to be completely without moisture. These plants survive despite their environment because they have been able to grow down as well as up.
Every person needs a taproot, something that reaches from within to find the deepest source of nourishment that it can. We all need to be fed from sources other than ourselves, sources that connect us to the broader web of creation or to a reserve of refreshment for arid times or essential elements that we cannot produce independently. We have to be always reaching and searching, pushing energy down as well as up. If not, when the surface conditions are not sufficient to sustain us, we will quickly starve.
Leave some large canes on top,
ready to bear fruit.
Leave some shorter canes
to grow stronger for next year’s fruit.
Leave some new growth at the bottom,
allowing future canes to develop.
And always consider and plan for an overall shape.
ANYTHING OF VALUE IN OUR LIVES probably requires some advanced planning and some sense of both short-term action steps and long-term goals. Of course, there do have to be some small pleasures and achievements along the way if we are not to become disheartened. At the same time, these small pleasures need to be in service to a broader plan and not mere random moments. It’s a tricky balance. If I’m always denying myself any satisfaction in the moment, I’ll be pretty miserable when, and if, I get to the long-range goal. If I flit about with small goals only, I might know momentary joy but end up aimless and unsatisfied.
I can remember the careful storage of all that change I accumulated as a child and the growing stack of single dollar bills from birthday cards or extra chores that would slowly lead to enough for the big-ticket item I dreamed about. I can also remember the reluctance to let go of that “here and now” treat and the even greater reluctance to put some of my hard-earned savings into the basket at church or the collection at school for the poor.
Appreciating the value of planning ahead is tough but necessary.
Just as we put money in the bank for a rainy day, we have to think about what we are storing within ourselves for the hard times or the long-term benefit. A little bit of self-control or spiritual discipline will add up in the reserve that prepares me for life’s challenges. Small efforts to be more kind or generous build up until I have a storehouse of patience and love from which I can draw. Doing the next right thing moves me in the direction of a peaceful life. If one has a faith tradition that stresses an eternal reward, there is the added hope of the most important goal toward which one moves. Faith traditions teach us also that each small act is important in moving either nearer or farther from that reward.
A vine that has only top growth will eventually use up all of the potential for fruit-bearing that those branches can provide. Something has to be deep at the source and continuing to push out from that reserve. If there are no new buds to take the place of those that have