The coldest day of winter, I gaze upon trees from the cozy nest of my house. Their stark, silent, dancing forms criss-cross in an arc of fascinating shapes, offering my eye comfort. I wonder about the squirrels and birds who recently played and flew amongst these trees. Are they nestled inside a limb, or amongst the thorns and thickets of the ground? It is amazing to think of the adaptive, resilient design of nature. Yet, sudden, plummeting temperatures such as these are tough on us— animals and humans, all. My thoughts fly to the homeless and missing.
I pray for something of the mystery between trees and humans, in the beautiful exchange of breath and exhale we share, to reach those in need. May we send and receive between each other messages of connection and hope, like breath. May we each, in our own ways, find our way to support those without a home.
Some of my closest friends are trees. I was fortunate to grow up on an old colonial farm with an abundance and variety of trees. These trees captured my imagination from an early age. The trees held me under their spell until my parents moved from the land when I was thirty. One Sugar Maple along the driveway haunted me in particular— of two lovers in embrace. Another Maple reached skyward in the sculpted form of a figure-head. Who were these people, I wondered? What spirits lodged and merged with their host? I felt sure the trees of the farm where I grew up captured the energy of the place. The land had a thousand stories laid down in it— another blog for another time.
And so I talked to those trees. And perhaps I was lonely, or needed solitude. The trees whispered back. When my family moved from Deerhorn farm, other trees moved-in (to me), capturing my heart.
Early memories include leaves and the branches of an enormous maple overhead. Branches of green, bits of sky peaking through. It was summer— must have been. I remember the tickling play of leaves, dappling shadows, songbirds…. how this tree shimmered, breathed, and exhaled a scent like love.
Elm, Hemlock, Magnolia, Sycamore, Pine, Cherry, Oak, Apple, Sugar Maple, purple and white smells of Lilac: These are the standing friends I grew up with. I wish them for everyone. The world needs trees and more of them.
Our dining room window looks out on a grove of Norwegian Maple. Morning sun lights up these trees powerfully, seeming to bring them into the room. Sometimes I begin my days in meditation or Chi-Kung here. I relish stepping into tree stances & tree stretches. Think, Michaelangelo’s David, inside a circle; think, that circle in 3-dimensions, surrounding David’s body; our whole body. Trees stand this way, in wholeness, full circumference; no front or back.
Stretching to the side, crossing the mid/line to reach my opposite foot, organizes me, makes me grow strong and supple; this, and other tree poses, postures. It is a miracle to be embodied, supported by earth, growing tall towards the sky like a tree!
There is a wave-like standing meditation called Tai Chi Pump, connected to trees.
Trees pump sap upwards from roots.
Inhale and lift your hands to the navel and continue, palms up— up the midline to lungs. Exhaling, float the hands and gently push the wave back down. Repeat.
Pump water, pump sap
Pump yourself some sweet energy!
Still, my favourite invitation from trees is the one to face inwards: To feel my spine like a trunk and turn gaze towards the back of my head (where the optic nerve actually rests,) to rest for a hot second. This, I find, is a sure fire-way to antidote anxiety. Key to home and the house Within.
Trees are the means by which we can travel between lower, middle, and upper worlds, shamanic tradition teaches us. I start my journeys by following the roots of one of those big Norwegian Maples outside our window, to a tunnel between worlds. That tunnel invariably takes me to one of my favourite landscapes in NM, where I experienced my first Lodge community. The land still offers medicine and power for me— all places we love, do. If you don’t already, try travelling inwardly to a place you love. Trees, plants, animals and birds there just might offer you guidance and support.
Trees rest in winter. We hopefully do, too! End of August most deciduous trees start closing off water to their leaves, converting chlorophyll to carbohydrates, (causing those gorgeous colours of fall), to store in bark and roots. For the long winter-coming. Enter the dream time. I love this invitation to rest, dream, and travel inwards. A time of story-telling, soups made from root vegetables and bones, winter slows us down. It asks us to do more with less, to draw energy and resources, within.
We hear messages from the ancestors ride on the wind, watch their signatures in the way trees bend. Other voices and messages come to us, too. A time of surrender, we wait and dream at the edge of the unknown. We are connected in ways visible and invisible, above and below earth. Like mycelium.
As a three year old, my son pointed to the side of Rte 2, near Walden Pond. “Stop! Let’s give those trees a ride!” He exclaimed.
Imagine cars designed with sun-roofs to carry trees: Enter the land of Dr Seuss. Through this playful, fluid view of the world, my son was on to something.
Trees need us. Not for movement and transportation, as we so often see in huge trucks, hauling lumber—but for Care.
Cleared for roads, development, fuel, and lumber, trees are disappearing from our communities and forests at alarming rates. Birds and wildlife are routinely displaced, some species perishing altogether.
A swath of trees were taken recently from the sides of rte 27 and rte 111, in Acton, MA, near my home. The place feels suddenly denuded. Bare, soulless. Storefronts, parking lots, and malls stick out. Telephone poles reach skyward, suddenly ugly. I don’t drive this route to the highway much anymore. It makes me too upset.
And so I decided to write this blog.
Trees need their vertical, human counterparts to Take A Stand. To say, Enough! Enough consumption, burning, destruction, pollution. Enough light pollution. Did you know, trees need sleep at night, too? Sleep deprivation in trees leads to compromised immunity. To Bugs getting in!
Trees need humans, and humans need trees.
Anchored and anchoring, trees provide clean air, fruit, nuts, medicinal teas, and sap. Trees create for us a sense of “place,” Home.
Home to squirrels, chipmunk, owls, beetles, worms, and so much more, trees are beauty, strength, resilience, community, breath, love.
Take a tree with you!
Let it infect you, swim in you, move in you, under the skin
Perhaps before we can stand up for trees— or take a stand for each other—
we need to sit down.
Put backs to a tree Sit
Eyes to the back of head
Center Contemplate
Listen Ground
Observe Draw
Take a breath Thank a tree
Feed it coffee grinds, And love
“I got your back” Tree says
Rooting Into The Earth
A workshop for youth 11-14, Saturday afternoons in March, 2023. Rooting Into The Earth will explore themes of care for self, other, & earth, through movement, story-telling, rest, and creative investigation.
Youth will learn about Trees and Plants, Seeds & Cycles of growth, blossom, decline in a fun and safe environment, both indoors and outdoors.
Where:
Innerspring Wellbeing, Stow, MA Conservation land nearby
