a missive to the trees, the planet, us
writing about love at a time of calamity
1/
I woke feeling I had no more stories to tell.
The pounding of the world’s pain in my ears stopped my imagination and even my desire to observe. All the things, so many, I could do nothing about. My americanness shoved my amygdala into frenetic action. Girl, get those bootstraps pulled up and write something. Make something. For God’s sake, do something. But I couldn’t. Nothing came out. It felt like writer’s block, or a creativity lull, which I know about, and can accept. But this felt different. Like paralysis. Behind the paralysis, so much to give voice to. I could hear the whispers, but I couldn’t reach what was being said.
Feet pounding on the needled path, the light splattering through the branches and cones. Air so fresh it felt like mint, dark patches of pine against wild acid green leaves of heaven-knows-what plant, everything supporting each other, playing off each other. Touching each big tree I past, saying a soft, “I love you” to each until tears rolled down my cheeks and I asked all of them at once,
“what would you have me know?”
The breeze rustling the birch trees’ leaves like rice falling from my hand, the massive pines holding themselves majestically. Kingfishers singing near the water’s edge.
“What would you have me know?” this time in a whisper, a prayer, my hands stretched out.
Trust and respect us. Don’t hurt us. Learn from us how to do good.
We take in your poison and release the gift of air for you to breathe. Killing us is killing yourself. It makes no sense. Learn to live with us. If you must kill us in order to survive, make sure that something good becomes of us having lived. Show respect for us having stood here for so long, making the world a better place.
“Yes” I answered, sitting in the moss, my hand stroking its softness. “Yes, I’ll try to do this as best I can.”
2/
It took me years to decode the things that make my life feel right, and almost all of them have to do with nature and living by its rules. When I am in touch with nature, my creative energy flows. When I cut myself off from nature, I am isolated and blocked.
There are a billion ways to live, and ultimately, we get to choose. Or not. The thing about staying in a situation that doesn’t align with our values is that it does not require our approval. We can be passive, indecisive, chronically unhappy, physically sick, mentally drained and deeply exhausted, never understanding exactly why. People live their whole lives this way without even realizing there are two parts to the equation:
How you live will determine how happy | healthy | creative | empathetic you are.
How you live will also determine how miserable | sick | angry | depressed | anxious | egocentric you are.
There is a conundrum. In order to propel ourselves forward into a late-stage capitalist definition of success, we leave large pieces of ourselves and the natural world behind. This is intentional - the system demands it of us. It impossible to stubbornly climb the path to today’s societal success and at the same time hope to live in harmony with nature. Every single part of our well-healed Western lives requires more resources than the earth can give us. There is no part of it that can be saved moving forward.
Everything has to change.
This planet cannot continue this way physically, emotionally, psychically, spiritually.
3/
We still have a responsibility to infuse our lives with meaning. Our life, this precious singular energetic plane we find ourselves on at this time, is fully open and loaded with possibility. I lose focus of this sometimes, because of - distraction and calamity brought to me every day by every screen I own.
I stop and ask myself the simple question, what makes life meaningful?
My answer is always love.
Love channeled as beauty. Which to me, is an extension of love. It’s what I felt when I touched the remarkably beautiful trees and asked them to help me.
Love channeled as sunlight and rain. As compost from our vegetable scraps that grow beautiful new vegetables the following year.
Love channeled as clay on the wheel spinning, my hands perfectly still on centered clay going hundreds of rotations a minute. Lifting it up, feeling it slide, creating a form where there was none before.
Love channeled as a home that has seen over 20 generations come and go and still holds us safe and warm.
Love channeled as friends and loved ones that have weathered the test of distance over so many years.
Love channeled as longing for peace and a healthy planet. Love channeled as beautiful food and clean water.
I firmly believe, now more than ever, that creativity is an act of rebellion against a corrupt and dangerous system built on taking it away from us. The noxious swirl of current events becomes more and more toxic with each passing moment. We’re getting folded up into a tech billionaire universe where actual humanity is an incidental - and unwanted - afterthought. Consumption of things this planet can no longer afford to create while working jobs we hate or are becoming obsolete for the privilege of buying them is the imperative.
Staking claim to our own individuality is becoming more and more challenging. But we have to do it. I read recently that IKEA sells a Billy bookshelf somewhere in the world every 5 seconds. That’s a piece of completely disposable fast furniture, destined to last maybe 10 years before it ends up with its glues and polymers and broken trees in a landfill. 10 years is optimistic.
Not buying fast furniture, fast food, fast clothing or fast anything is an act of civil resistance. We cannot love trees and love fast anything. They are morally mutually exlusive.
We have to choose.
Let’s choose for the trees.
For my FLOURISH paid subscribers, I will be back shortly. I needed a time out. The events of the world somehow took a toll on my ability to write and to envision and create. It’s coming back, though. This post, which took days and days to write, has helped me.
Thank you for reading and understanding.
I absolutely love this piece. I work in mental health in the US and this is a very difficult time for many. Nature is my refuge and I encourage others to follow suit as much as possible. The trees give us so much, and what do we give back?
This is prescient -like a vivid dream, rendered in moonlight and sunlight and stars. I love this and its author. This is gorgeous.