The Lighthouse And The Tree

A source of guiding light

By Susan T.

My recovering addict friend says that she loves the image of a lighthouse. During one of our frequent telephone meetings, she shared her wish to envision herself as a lighthouse. Her home is full of photos and paintings of lighthouses. I didn't relate at first. But the very next day, my nine-year old son came home from art class with his lighthouse drawing. Coincidence? It made me think.

A lighthouse is steady and immovable. It is a tower that projects light, enabling ships to navigate the dark seas. The lighthouse is unaffected by powerful winds or strong waves - impervious to rain, snow or hail. Standing alone, proud and firm, the lighthouse calls out: Fear not the dark! My steady light illuminates the way.

We in recovery have certainly sailed some dark, stormy nights, groping blindly for direction and clarity. Sometimes we drifted, frightened or unconscious, not even aware of how we eventually washed up ashore. Today, we know that wherever we find ourselves, we can discover a source of guiding light. For some, it might be a meeting; for others, a program phone call, a reading or a prayer. Each one of us, however, burns with an inner light that we access when we turn to God. He is the One Who created that light within us when He breathed life into us. Our job is to plug in, and to ask Him to help us generate the infinite light within us. Our own light is capable of radiating beams of hope, penetrating the darkness around us, helping fellow souls find their way.

My friend wants to see herself as a lighthouse because she wants to be strong and bright in the face of life's inevitable storms. For me, however, the lighthouse arouses feelings of loneliness and isolation. Seas are scary and vast. The lighthouse radiates an illuminating beam, yet it stands completely alone.

My metaphor for recovery is a tree. It, too, weathers storms, winds and temperatures. A well-anchored tree does not budge. Its branches may sway, its bark may peel, but the tree itself stands strong and grounded, an impartial witness to life. It receives its nourishment from both below and above, like a person connecting Heaven and Earth through his/her very existence. The tree takes in what it needs, and gives back what it can offer - be it shade, fruit or shelter. It adapts to the seasons, proudly bearing itself in winter, as if to invite snow onto its firm branches. It awakens all to the miracle of rebirth with its buds in spring. It transmits the splendor of its lush green abundance in summer. And it proclaims God's majestic palette in fall. The tree is vibrant, connected with its source and with its environment. It is firm yet not rigid. But it needs to be healthy, or it, too, becomes vulnerable to disease and to the elements.

What keeps the lighthouse standing? What keeps the tree healthy? The lighthouse is anchored by cement, the tree by its roots. Each represents a different connection with God. The individual in recovery who has identified his/her source of strength has been working hard, one small drop of cement at a time, laying the foundation for what eventually becomes a tower of light. Every time one admits his powerlessness and surrenders to God, he adds cement to the base of his lighthouse. Each call for Divine Assistance, each abstention from an addictive substance or behavior, each return to program after a slip, each hand extended to help another - each of these add bricks to its tower.

The Torah compares a person to a tree, offering us insight into our own lives. Roots, trunks, branches and fruits of a tree are paralleled in the life of a human being. Faith is the roots of the tree that is a person. A tree with vibrant, strong roots is not easily felled - neither is a person with strong faith. What are our roots? Many of us come from dysfunctional families. We need to dig deeper to access our healthy, life sustaining roots. We are all children of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebeccah, Jacob, Rachel and Leah. We come from seeds that are pure and holy; our source is Godly. We can rely on our spiritual genetics. We can deepen, widen and strengthen our root systems by accessing the faith that is our inheritance. We can produce sweet, delicious fruit.

When we work our programs, we build lighthouses. When we nurture our faith, we build orchards. We are privileged to shine from within and without; we generously share our fruits. As people committed to recovery, we stand proud, strong and solid. We are lighthouses and we are trees.