Defining the Meaning of Life: Trees, Mindfulness, and Appreciation

Michael’s Story

Michael Lopez was born in 1964 in Arroyo Grande, California on the central coast. He spent the first five years of his life living with his aunt in the small mountain village of Huatlatlauca, Mexico because his parents didn’t have the resources to provide for him at the time.

At five years old, he was picked up on a bus by someone who seemed to him to be a random man — but who was actually his father. He returned to the United States not knowing a word of English, completely taken aback when meeting the strangers who turned out to be his family (his father, mother, and two older brothers).

“When I came back at 5 — when my dad picked me up — it took me quite some time to trust people around me. It took me a while to get acclimated and assimilate into the family. But after I did, I felt very happy and very loved.”

Michael’s parents made the most out of their financial circumstances and did everything they could to provide their sons with the best childhood possible. Instead of going on fancy vacations, they went camping — his parents slept in the car while Michael and his brothers slept in a tent.

Instead of buying expensive Halloween costumes, their father handmade Michael’s costume — a homeless person wearing tattered clothing with coal on his face — which he wore proudly to school. Instead of giving their sons a luxurious life filled with nice materials, his parents gave their sons life experiences filled with love and sacrifice.

“I remember my parents taking us to the rodeo each year. My mom got my brothers and me cowboy button-up shorts that had cool pearl-looking, snap-style buttons. She also got us bolo ties, which are classic Western attire. What put it over the top for me was that she got me a plastic six-shooter gun that came with a holster belt and a five-star shiny silver sheriff’s badge (my favorite thing). I absolutely loved the outfit and wearing it on the day of the rodeo. I would not take it off until bath time at night. I so appreciate now what they did for me with so little money. They gave me a beautiful childhood full of wonderful memories.”

In elementary school, Michael would return home with his brothers and hang out while their parents were still at work. They’d have a snack (almost always refried beans on white bread), do their homework, and make sure the dogs had water. His mother would make dinner upon getting home.

His father, a factory worker, severely hurt his back one day and had to be operated on. Because he wasn’t allowed to go to work for a long time, Michael’s mother continued her duties as an assembly line worker. This event dramatically changed the family dynamic and the way the household ran.

“Since he was at home, he’d make us something to eat when we got back from school, which is very difficult for a traditional Hispanic man. Having to cook for his kids instead of being at work and providing for his family, it was harsh. He would keep us in line from the moment we walked into the house after school.”

Because Michael’s father was a man of machismo, or masculine pride and self-reliance, he struggled with the reality of staying at home every day. He already ran a tight ship before his injury, but afterwards, he became even more stringent. The strictness Michael’s dad imposed on him and his older brothers permeated their relationship, in a very tough-love sort of way. He loved his sons and wanted the best for them always, but his actions didn’t always demonstrate it.

“Saturday mornings, he would come in and wake us up and say, ‘Everybody up and get ready for our Saturday chores. No breakfast until they’re done.’ We had to go out and do one small chore or a couple small chores, then we would go in and have breakfast. Then we’d go out and do our regular chores.”

Chores for Michael included taking care of farm animals they had — ducks, rabbits, chickens, quail, doves, goats, and dogs. He and his brothers would also mow the lawn, using old knives to cut the grass that grew up against the house which the push mower couldn’t reach. These chores became routine for Michael and his brothers, enduring all throughout their childhood and through high school.

Growing up in these conditions, Michael learned the value of hard work and discipline and went on to become the first person in his family to attend college, paying his own way through it. Today he works as a tax auditor living in Santa Maria, happily married and with two older daughters who’ve moved out and graduated college.

Michael’s Meaning of Life

“On Saturdays, especially growing up at probably seven to nine years old, we would finish all of our chores in the backyard and be completely exhausted. I remember laying on my back on this trunk underneath these huge trees and watching as the leaves and branches gently moved in the breeze. I think that’s where I may have really started appreciating trees — if my dad hadn’t made us do all these chores, I wouldn’t have laid there, tired, just trying to cool down. I wouldn’t have looked up and listened to the birds and watched the trees above me.

Sometimes I’ll be out in the front yard, coming home from a walk, walking up the driveway and I’ll notice a tree out in front of our house. And I notice that every year, those trees lose all their leaves.

It just turns into sticks — there’s nothing to it. And I think, wow, this happens every year. All of its beautiful glory and all of its beautiful external life goes away and no one would know how pretty that tree is until spring comes around. Right now I see a few buds coming out and I think, here it is growing itself again and showing itself to us humans. And I wonder if everyone stops to notice this. It’s amazing. This tree goes through cycles every year and sees all these changes that go on with people around it — family coming to visit, my kids growing up. The tree sees everything and it doesn’t waiver, it just goes through its seasons and shows beautiful colors.

We don’t really stop and think about them too much, but they’ve witnessed history. There’s trees that are hundreds of years old. They’ve seen so much change in the world, whether it’s war or something positive. These trees — each has their own identity or personality. I walk or drive around town and I see the same trees from previous trips and I think, They have stories to tell, too.”

I think the meaning of life to me is to be appreciative and mindful of our surroundings because it connects us to the past. I can look at the same tree I used to lay under as a child now and see how it’s a physical connection to my past. It’s like a person in some ways because it’s seen me go from a young child who hardly knew any English to the person I am now. It makes me appreciate the tree because it’s witnessed my growth as a person and that is a very special thing.

Being mindful of something as ordinary as trees can help us to reflect on our pasts and take a moment to think about how we’ve changed over time. Though my childhood was difficult financially and assimilating into this whole new world was tough as a kid, seeing those same trees in my childhood home provided me a sense of comfort. They still provide me that comfort today and allow me to look back on and feel proud of the obstacles I faced. And being appreciative in this way shows me how the qualities of discipline and hard work I learned as a child ultimately led me to the wonderful life I have today.”