Rooted, Even After the Storm: A Midlife Reflection from the River

In September 2025, Hurricane Helene devastated western North Carolina, destroying homes, reshaping landscapes, and tragically taking 107 lives. I hadn't been back on the New River since the storm. Until this past weekend.

Chris, my oldest son Kendall, and I decided to kayak my favorite stretch of the river—a route that begins in Allegheny County, North Carolina, and flows north into Grayson County, Virginia. (Yes, north—the New River is one of the few rivers in the world that flows northward. It’s also considered one of the oldest rivers on Earth, estimated to be between 260 and 325 million years old.)

I’ve floated this river many times, especially when my kids were younger. But this stretch is my favorite. It's usually quiet, peaceful, and gorgeous. 

We were the only people on the water that day. Right away, we saw debris hanging high in the trees—a clear marker of how high the water had risen during the hurricane. The current was still swift from recent rains, and although the surface shimmered under the sun, the riverbed still held the wreckage of the storm.

Twisted metal from storage buildings. Entire decks. Someone’s bridge wedged between boulders midstream.

I know cleanup crews have worked tirelessly, and yet—there’s still so much left behind. Seeing it with my own eyes was sobering. But somehow, it was also strangely comforting. Not everything has to be “cleaned up” to still be beautiful.

And it was beautiful. The water sparkled, the air was fresh, and memories flooded in—of summer floats with my kids, laughter echoing over the current. I looked over at Kendall, camera in hand, capturing the same river that had shaped so many moments of his childhood.

Then I saw it.

One tree, downed like so many others, caught my eye. But unlike the others, it was sprouting new leaves—bright green and full of life. It stopped me in my tracks.

How could this fallen tree be growing again?

I looked it up later, and the science behind it stunned me: if just part of a tree’s root system remains connected to the earth, it can still absorb enough water and nutrients to produce new growth. Even when the trunk is horizontal. Even when everything else around it has broken or washed away.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that tree.

Because isn’t that what midlife often feels like?

We get knocked down by things we never saw coming—divorce, the loss of a partner, a career that unexpectedly ends, financial shifts, a child who pulls away, a diagnosis, a move we didn’t plan for.

It’s disorienting. Grief-inducing. Lonely.

And yet—if just some of our roots remain intact, new growth is still possible.

For me, being rooted means:

• Staying grounded in my faith

• Nurturing strong, authentic friendships

• Caring for my physical, emotional, and mental health

• Knowing who I am—especially when life feels uncertain

It’s often said that we’re either in a storm, coming out of one, or heading into the next. I don’t say that to be dramatic—I say it because I’ve lived it. And I want you to know: you can survive it.

Maybe you’ve been knocked down, but you’re not done growing.

5 Ways to Stay Rooted in Midlife (Even When Life Feels Like a Storm)

1. Cultivate Real Community
   Don’t wait for friends to magically appear. Be intentional. Join a group, volunteer, reach out. Even one solid connection can ground you.

2. Invest in Your Health
   This isn’t about six-packs or green juice (unless you love those). It’s about listening to your body, moving it with care, and prioritizing rest.

3. Reconnect to Your Faith or Purpose
   Whatever “faith” looks like for you—prayer, meditation, nature, church—make space for it. And revisit what lights you up inside.

4. Reflect on What You've Survived
   You’ve already weathered storms. Write them down. Honor the strength it took. Let your past resilience remind you of what’s possible now.

5. Ask for Help When You Need It
   There’s no shame in needing support. Therapy, coaching, a trusted friend—sometimes just saying “I need help” is the most rooted thing you can do.

That tree reminded me: we don’t have to stand tall to keep growing.

We just need to stay connected—to ourselves, to others, to something deeper.

Even if your life feels sideways right now, there’s still beauty ahead. Keep growing.