Tag: trees

The Warmth of Awareness.

We are our own worst critics, my loves; yielding so quickly to this energy of self-doubt, challenging all perceptions of ‘self’.

How easily we assign those labels – our need to qualify greater than any possible measure. We are either ‘too this’ or ‘not enough’ of that; taking on fully the characteristics of bias, limiting our capacity to be.

If only we might learn to view in a light other than harsh disapproval.

In walking through the woods, are you stricken by the inconsistencies of trees? Do you qualify their bark, their straightness or their pitch of changing leaf? Or, do you stand in quiet appreciation – simply grateful to share in their blessing?

Though, perhaps the greater question still – how do we begin opening to ourselves? Cultivating both curiosity and awareness for that which makes us so brilliantly unique?

And, allowing the spaciousness of being.

Like the many trees which stand before us, we are intended to share in the warmth of this radiance.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

To Walk Amongst the Trees.

“When I am among the trees,” writes poet, Mary Oliver “they give off such hints of gladness.”

My darlings, and just how could we dare to walk amongst them and never once feel their glory? So absent our very own hearts that we miss the miracle before us.

With branches strewn wildly towards heaven, they capture the light in delicate pockets to cast their intricate patterns against our feet.

And yet, most remain oblivious — oblivious to the grace that is extended so unconditionally.

“When I am among the trees,” she writes. “I would almost say that they save me, and daily.”

My darlings, it is this gift that flows so freely from their branches that reminds us of our purpose here.

To “go slowly and stay awhile” — amongst the rustling of leaves and trails marked in morning light.

To find our space tucked safely beneath the trees — with heart enough to let our soul shine.

WHEN I AM AMONG TREES by Mary Oliver

“When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,”
they say, “and you, too, have come
into the world to do this, to go easy,
to be filled with light, and to shine.”

The Miracle of Our Being.

My neighbor once saw me walking through the woods.

“Something wrong?” he shouted.

“No, not at all…” I smiled. “This tree is absolutely perfect.”

I like to lay my hands upon the trees, you see—to feel their roughened texture in the ‘lines’ time has worn well through their grooves. For me, the trees have always served as the most ‘formidable of forest preachers’. Why, sometimes I can even ‘feel’ the tree before I’ve ever shifted my hand.

“In their highest boughs the world rustles,” shares author, Hermann Hesse. “Their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves.”

This is the heart of my practice—to find this spaciousness of connection, our inexplicable bond with all living things.

To understand, that we are here so very much alive, my darlings, this is the miracle of our being.

“Whereever you are,” reminds Shunryu Suzuki, “you are one with the clouds and one with the sun and the stars you see. You are one with everything. That is more true than I can say, and more true than you can hear.”

Indeed, there is no higher truth, my loves—and, it marks the beginning of our endless path of possibilities.

A Lesson From a Tree.

“When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out,

“Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,”
they say, “and you, too, have come
into the world to do this, to go easy,
to be filled with light, and to shine.”

A morning musing from Mary Oliver’s, “When I Am Among Trees.”

It is certainly a poem dearest to my heart; one which so eloquently describes the energy of my trees. And, reminding me to go slowly, to breathe deeply…to stay awhile.

“They give off such hints of gladness.”

Oh, my goodness – my darlings, and then some.

For within even the most barren of branches lies an unmistakable assurance that we are loved.

That, we too, are here to shine.

The Colors of Our Soul.

Author Alan Watts once made the distinction, that we do not come ‘into’ this world; rather, we come ‘out’ of it.”

My darlings, do you know what this means?

It means, that every single soul on this earth is a magnificent expression of this Universe.

Just as the leaf finally breaks free of the tree to step into its autumn glow;

So, too, will our hearts find a way to let the soul’s truest colors come through.

We are not born into this world, my darlings. We are born of it.

One living, breathing, soul-stretching manifestation – of this, the sum total of the Universe.

 

WHEN I AM AMONG TREES

by Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,”
they say, “and you, too, have come
into the world to do this, to go easy,
to be filled with light, and to shine.”

The Promise of a Tree.

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone.

They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche.

In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves.

Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours.

They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy.

Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is.

That is home. That is happiness.” ― Hermann Hesse

My darlings, someone asked me the other day – how it is that I find such refuge amongst the trees; after all, aren’t they simply an offshoot of green?

To which I reply, my darlings – a tree is so much more than this gathering of leaves:

It is this roughened bark – in spots, worn smoothly; a testimony of the fortitude forged through ‘weathering’ these many years.

And, these roots – holding still, on this patch it calls home; determined to maintain sense of being.

In their rustling, there is a softened peace – a metaphor for life; within which, there is a hope…everlasting.

My darlings, this is the reason I do so love my trees.