The Little Tree: Letting Go So We Can Grow. A Trauma therapists thoughts.
- Kelsey Thomas
- Aug 17
- 2 min read
By: Kelsey Thomas, LMFT Trauma therapist in Portland Oregon
There is a moment in The Little Tree that always gets me. The tree clings to its leaves because they feel safe and familiar. They keep it warm. But we all know what comes next. If the leaves stay forever, there is no space for new growth. The book does not rush this truth or sugarcoat it. There is a stretch of time when the branches are bare, and it is uncomfortable and quiet. It looks like nothing is happening. It is also not permanent.
That bare season is the part most of us try to skip. It is the week after a hard decision, the middle of a career change, the months after a breakup, the first days of a new habit that has not yet taken root. No leaves, no proof, just faith. The story reminds us that letting go is not about being fearless. It is about trusting that our lives know how to bud again when the time is right.
What I love is how gentle the lesson is. The tree does not get shamed for holding on. It learns, slowly, to release what once helped it survive. That feels true for people too. The things that once kept us warm are not bad. They just are not always meant to come with us into the next season.
A short practice: a leaf-letting ritual
Name the leaf. On three small pieces of paper, write down something you are holding onto, one per page. An old role, a belief that you need to be perfect, a habit that keeps you safe but small.
Thank it. Put a hand over each paper and thank it for how it once protected you. Gratitude softens the grip.
Let it fall. Stand by a trash bin or compost, take one steady breath, and release the papers. If you prefer, tear them first and then drop them.
Make room. In the space you just cleared, write one tiny next step that signals spring. Send the email, ask for help, put ten minutes on the calendar for the new thing. Keep it small and doable.
Benediction
May you have the courage to loosen your hold when a season has run its course. May the bare branches of your life be held with tenderness, not judgment. And when the first small buds appear, may you notice them, protect them, and let yourself grow in the direction of light.
Kelsey is trained in IFS, Brainspotting, and soon to be Anchored Relational Training.
