THE WIGGLY TREE
Kinesthetic Memory, Childhood Wonder, and the Wisdom of Twists
Some memories don’t speak—they move. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how kinesthetic memory and childhood imagery shape emotional insight, resilience, and the metaphors we carry into adulthood.
Childhood can sometimes be magical. We have so many little movies stored in our brains. This morning was a clear reminder of this to me. I was starting to draw a tree, and my brain suddenly reminded me of the Wiggly Tree from my childhood. I have capitalized it to note the importance of it from my childhood and not because it deserves it separately. Though it might. I will tell you that I have not thought about that tree for at least 6 decades. What in the world triggered this memory? If I had to guess, I would report that it is a kinesthetic memory: a memory stored in motion and action and not in language. As my hand began to form an upright tree on the page, the Wiggly Tree jumped into my hand and was recognized by my brain, leading to a tumble of childhood memories.
The Wiggly Tree stood or wandered along the alley next to my childhood home and across from the garage. It was an ancient tree, and I have no idea what type of tree it was, but it sat there for a long time. And perhaps its size is distorted by my size as a child. However, I can compare it to the garage across the alley. The top of the tree was clearly above the roof peak of the garage. The garage housed the family Buick and a boat with an outboard motor.
Imagine a trunk rising out of the ground with its extensive roots, looking like arms spread along the ground as if to hug the ground and keep the tree from flying away. The base of the trunk is old, as evidenced by the gaping hole that rises in an inverted V shape and rips the trunk open from the ground to the point where the trunk does a 90-degree turn. As the trunk runs parallel to the ground, one wonders why the whole thing does not topple. The run was long enough for my sister and me to sit on the trunk and swing our legs. Then, as you might have guessed, the trunk turned upward and headed for the sky.
What could have bent this tree like this? A gale-force wind sustained for months would be the necessary conditions to create such a turn. If we lived in Antarctica, this would be plausible as the wind can reach 150mph and be sustained long-term. However, we lived in a working-class neighborhood in Indiana. One can only imagine the early life of this tree. The same is true for people. Early experiences, even from infancy, can create gale-force trauma coded in one’s brain in terms of light, sound, motion, and touch. These “kinesthetic movies” tend to lie dormant as we focus on language only and recall things we can report in terms of language. Long before language, we had tons and tons of kinesthetic memories.
The Wiggly Tree was one of those for me. Of course, I flesh it out with language, but the memory is in my soul in terms of movement, images, and kinesthetic stimulation. These are important memories. In addition, I believe that memories pop into the present for very good reasons. The Wiggly Tree has been presented to me to cause me to reflect on early childhood experiences and character. I need to be curious about the significance of these characteristics as I face the present. The Wiggly Tree wants my attention. Perhaps I am facing some twists and turns in the present and need to give them more attention. Possibly there is a strong wind of resistance in my future, and I need to trust that things will eventually right themselves.
Want to explore how childhood memories and kinesthetic recall shape emotional resilience? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on trees and childhood memory, NeuroLaunch’s guide to emotional attachment and memory, and Listickle’s insights on nostalgia and personal growth.
If you’re reflecting on memory, emotional connection, or personal transformation, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and emotional clarity.
By Dr. Gloria K Vanderhorst
