I spoke with a tree today.
I am experiencing a transformative time in my personal life. I have been feeling a lot of things. There are several things that I thought I knew about myself that I find myself questioning, now. One of those things (though not nearly the foremost) is my previous disdain for the outdoors. Now, it is not that I am suddenly motivated to abandon my life as a software developer and venture into the great unknown and never touch a computer again. I still enjoy solving problems and building cool things, but I must be perfectly honest: I have had some trouble doing it lately. I have not been in a good place with my mind. I have been lost in my own thoughts and confused by my own emotions.
A truly wonderful human being recently inspired me to find a tree and connect with it. After an extremely emotional and quite possibly life-changing experience in empathy earlier today, I decided that it was time. And so it was that I left my home suddenly, with no particular destination in mind, at twilight. It was moderately snowing and I was bundled in a winter coat, hat, and gloves. I almost never wear those things; I almost never have reason to. I live nearly all of my life indoors; I typically venture outdoors only long enough to transition between some building and my vehicle, so a hooded sweatshirt is more than enough.
And so, this was an unusual happening for me. I was going on a walk. I have not gone on a walk for an extremely long time and it has been an even longer time since I went on one by myself. But this was something I had to do. This time, I had to do this on my own. I do not make close relationships with many people in "real life;" even my longest-standing friendships are rather distant in nature. Even among the few close friends and loved ones I have, there is no one who could make this journey with me. This experience was mine, and mine alone.
I walked the streets aimlessly for a fair amount of time, until after the sky was completely dark. The snow flew in my face and the wind howled through the bare trees. Periodically, I closed my eyes and felt silent tears streaming down my cheeks, distinguished only by their warmth from the melting snow. A light smile formed across my face. I had been waiting for this trip for a long time. It was not going to be absolutely perfect and that was fine. There are not many forests within walking distance from where I live and even if there were, I do not know if I have the courage to venture into one on my own. Perhaps someday soon, but not yet.
Instead, I found my way to the local park, where there is a small collection of trees. I stood at the entrance of the park and allowed my eyes to wander. I found my tree: the third from the right. I am not sure if I called out to it, or if it called out to me, but either way, I was more of an observer than an active participant as my legs moved to approach it. My breath shook and I felt even more of those silent tears fall. With nothing but the utmost respect in my mind and love in my heart for this living creature, I stood in front of this tree and, wordlessly, I removed the glove from my right hand. I placed it against the trunk of the tree and immediately began sobbing heavily as I leaned in closer and rested my head against it. My breaths and tears became uncontrollable though my voice remained silent.
And so, there we were, the human and the tree, both being amalgamations of millions of living cells but still quite different somehow, but mostly the same after all. Connected by the magic that is life. I remained there for a long time. I felt its sorrow and its loneliness and I sympathised with it as I recalled and experienced and shared my own. I embraced the tree with my full wingspan, as closely and tightly as I could and, finally, my silence faltered and I wept aloud. I told the tree things; words meant only for trees, not for humans. I wondered aloud why certain things were the way that they were. I wondered why we hurt each other and this planet so much. I wondered and asked and shared some personal things too and, even though there were no responses or at least no definitive answers, I felt that I had been heard. A weight had been lifted. My sorrow and loneliness and confusion were not gone, but instead, they were fulfilled somehow. It is hard to explain and I won't torture the reader by trying any further.
It was time to go, and I thanked the tree for its time and disengaged my embrace, keeping my bared right hand on its trunk for a little while longer as I said goodbye. As I walked back home, still sobbing intermittently, I realised that I had forgotten something. I had forgotten to apologise. For us. For humans, and what we do to nature; the embodiment of destruction that we are: parasites; viruses; destroyers of worlds. But I shall be back again, I think. This was my first tree conversation, but it will not be my last... and next time, I will remember. 💛
