Rooted Like Aspen: What Nature Teaches Us About Resilience and Connection

Some of the most important networks in our lives are the ones we don’t see—unspoken support, quiet resilience, and interdependence that sustains us. I first learned this in an unexpected place: a childbirth hypnosis class. The instructor asked us to create a sanctuary in our minds—somewhere safe, beautiful, and deeply familiar. For me, it was effortless: I saw myself among the aspens of the Colorado Rockies, the same groves where I camped as a child, where the wind whispered through the leaves like quiet secrets. Years later, when I lived in Santa Fe, I hiked among golden aspens in the fall. Certain places root themselves in us, grounding us wherever we are. Aspen do that for me.

Aspens, it turns out, are never truly alone. What looks like a forest is often a single organism, connected beneath the soil by an ancient, unseen root system. And the most extraordinary example of this is Pando—a vast grove in Utah that isn’t just a collection of trees but one massive, living being. Its 47,000 stems are all connected, sending nutrients, information, and energy through an underground network. It regenerates, protects itself, and has survived for thousands of years because of this interconnection.

Visiting my parents in the Rockies this winter, I've been reflecting on Pando as a metaphor for how we sustain each other. Snow covers the ground, and the aspen trees stand bare, their white trunks stark against the bright blue sky. My parents have their own aspen stand on their lot—it’s why they chose this land. When they built their house over twenty years ago, the trees were young, their trunks still slender, part of a grove where older stems eventually die and new ones rise in their place. Now, they tower above the second-story deck, a living testament to growth, endurance, and the unseen connections that sustain them.

The Strength and Fragility of Interconnection

Like aspen, we thrive through hidden connections—acts of generosity, shared wisdom, unspoken understanding. These networks are everywhere, often unnoticed. A colleague offering quiet encouragement. A mentor sharing their knowledge. A leader creating space for others to grow. A stranger offering a small kindness—like the one who jumped down to grab my friend’s flip-flop when it tumbled over the edge at Hot Sulphur Springs. A quick gesture, but unexpected and generous. And it’s not just individuals—entire nations depend on unseen connections. Trade, goodwill, and cooperation hold things together, even when we don’t always recognize it.

Pando, for all its resilience, is also vulnerable. Overgrazing, fire suppression, and climate change weaken its ability to regenerate. It depends on its unseen network to endure, just as we rely on the relationships and structures that sustain us—whether friendships, workplaces, or global partnerships. When we forget these ties, we risk instability, but when we nurture them, we create resilience. Connection is our strength, but it requires tending. The strength of Pando, like our own, is in the care we give to the unseen threads that hold us together. When we exploit the vulnerabilities of others—our colleagues, employees, or partners—we ultimately weaken ourselves. True success isn’t a zero-sum game. We rise and fall together.

Questions for Reflection

- What connections in your life sustain you, even when unseen?

- Where have you found unexpected generosity?

- How can you nurture the networks—personal, professional, and global—that support resilience?

How are you tending the unseen networks in your life? Drop a comment or message me—I’d love to hear your thoughts. For those interested in exploring these ideas further, my Creating and Curating Your Sacred Space Workshop dives into the practice of cultivating both external and internal sanctuaries. https://celiacain.substack.com/p/workshop-replay-create-and-curate