Talking to trees
Hello, dear one. Tell me how you are, what you are doing, what you wish you were doing instead. Tell me about the weather where you are, what wildness you can see outside your window (for there is always a bit of wildness, even in the concrete jungle). What have you seen, heard, felt, smelled, thought, that inspired you this week, that made you smile without thinking, a reflexive moment of pure joy. I am so grateful for you, here in this inner circle with me.
And I am grateful for trees.
Today, I am reigniting my gratitude practice with intention. Quick question - Do you journal? I have been following the practice of Julia Cameron's “Morning Pages” on and off (but mostly on) for the last few years. If you have not heard of morning pages, here is what it is all about. My practice has developed and evolved slightly over time to best suit my mind and my heart, but the concept remains the same. Sometimes my writing practice goes away, floating off like a dandelion seed head, and that is ok. Sometimes I will write every day like clockwork for weeks. I do feel the tug of the pages when I have been away from them for a while - it is a quiet, contemplative and honest space, and it is where I can get some of the nonsense or unhelpful thoughts out of my head and heart so I can move on.
When I do that, I am usually more open to inspiration, some of the weight off my shoulders.
Sometimes I will follow a theme to write with, so I have an anchor and don't feel the creeping concern that I will ‘run out of things to say’. Lately, that theme has been “Where am I today?”. It is an existential, philosophical and literal check in. How is my body feeling, what are my emotions like, how can I become more grounded, how can I be more present, what is holding me back, what am I afraid of, what can I lean into, what can I acknowledge as needing more attention, where can I get more help. I start with this question, then let my thoughts lead me wherever they need to go. Then I will usually close with a mantra, or a contemplation on maitri and compassion. Today, I decided I would also end each day with a note something that I am truly, deeply grateful for, and why I am grateful for them.
I could write each day that I am grateful for my nephew, because every day I am, truly and deeply. For my family, for my home (for my mortgage even, what a privilege!), for my health and for the travels I have done (even though they seem a lifetime ago). I want this practice to be limitless - I am on a constant quest of curiosity and wonder. So, today (and every day), I am so grateful for trees.
Tree energy. Their physical being, their complex and complete necessity in many ecosystems. The way the light flickers through leaves, the cool bark on my cheek when I lean in for a hug, the secret world of their roots beneath the soil, the way their limbs sway in the wind, the shade they provide, the scent of their crushed leaves and bark. Pondering their interconnectedness is extraordinarily heart opening, contemplating learning from tree, stretching my imagination, rooting into the earth and unfurling towards the sky, face to the sun.
We are still in lockdown here. Day 102 of stay at home orders, we are all a little frayed around the edges. And like all of you know, the hardest part is not being able to be with your family. Thankful for virtual spaces, but virtual hugs are not the same. But I have trees all around me to remind me to be strong, to hold fast and be present, the keep my heart open to wonder. Their strong limbs hold constant and safe space for the myriad birds that visit my yard. Their branches are weighed down with mulberries for me (and the birds) to feast on in the weeks to come. Their catkins are appearing among vibrant green and leathery leaves. Their spring flowers are opening and being buzzed by bees, honey and native, and all sorts of insects that will leave me with pears later in the season (I may even get to taste some this year if I can beat the rainbow lorikeets to them). Their lemon scented leaves greet me in the morning air when I put out seed for the galahs and corellas and cockies. Their bark may be cool to the touch, but the energy that comes through my fingers and hand from them is immense, and immeasurably kind.
If you are a little bit in love with the Steppe Eagle in the photo above, you can get a copy for your own heart + home here.
