I remember a marketing class in my University days, 'Create a logo to pull in customers, increase revenue and brand your product!' said the professor. This is partly true. A logo can be used for advertising, driving consumers to a product. It can be applied using the acronym COPE: Create Once, Post Everywhere. Behavioral consumer classes at universities layout the psychology behind a logo. These are all meaningful and run in the background of a small business. However, our logo is something more. It comes from a story, or maybe more of a poem...
About 20 years ago I picked up the book Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. It changed my life. On the front cover, a boy with a backpack, running through the mountains. Somewhere deep within me, it took root in my heart. This image exploded into my life and I wanted an adventure. One for me, that was my unique story. I wanted to be on that mountain. It gave me purpose, allowed the child inside of me to talk about my own story, including the good, the bad and the ugly. The boy was inside of me and I had to go on a journey to rescue him.
Now I push my kids on the swing, this monstrous rope swing in suburbia. They squeal and laugh with delight. The child finds that the swing provides a space for him to be utterly himself. Free of worry and full of imagination. And no one can push them higher than dad.
The tree needs to be strong. Full, tall branches, swaying leaves. But deep calls on deep, as He says, and like the blessed man in Psalm 1, the child 'is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit' (see also Jeremiah 17:8). We can see how deep in its trunk is the strength and the goodness nurtured by the stream. The tree is full, it represents life. The boy swings on it. It is big enough to provide shade, however it started as the smallest of seeds, the mustard seed. It died, it broke open and shot out roots into the soil, towards the water. Ring by ring it grew, branch by branch it extended. Fruit sprouted and everyone saw that it was good.
A paradox emerges. It confuses, paralyzes and enrages. The 'both/and' seems impossible and I'd rather grasp, run or destroy.
'No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell' (Jung, 1951). Below is the dark earth, where the roots grow and the worms crawl. The roots are like a skeleton, dead bones. They look dry and alone, desperately stretching for water. The shadows under the earth, we all relate to. This shadow side.
A plan was in place. 'Behind and before I encircle you, rest my hand upon you' (Ps. 139). The seed was placed in the earth next to the stream. The water babbles, it gushes, it pours forth. The roots find the refreshment and drink. The tree has a source, hidden and unseen. This water gives it life, cleanses and quenches thirst. It cleans and washes away and penetrates the cracks. It will not be stopped.
So, the boy keeps swinging. The man is aware of what is beneath and no longer afraid. The storms will come, the wind will blow, the waters will rise, the drought will threaten. But in you I find my refuge. For that, I give you thanks.
Peace,
Michael Ciaccio MS, LPC, SATP