I had a conversation with a tree today. He (/she?/it?) was very polite, and very kind to tell me some of the stories he knew. For documentation purposes, I’ll tell you what he told me.
I climbed up onto the platform, only slightly shaded by the massive maple tree. Lying back, I closed my eyes and relax
After shaking myself awake several times, I sat up and traced the pattern of the tree’s bark with my eyes. I lay back again and stared up at the limbs, trying to feel the shape, feel how the tree feels. I felt branches, leaves, extensions of my body, climbing upward and outward, towards the warm sun. I felt its immense wisdom, knowledge and seeing.
I greeted him and asked him to show me the feelings and sights he experienced while watching over a family of five children, watching them grow and learn. He showed me mental pictures, like a slideshow, mini-versions of the family I know now.
…Two little boys pushing each other.
…The two boys, older now, enticing and tricking a younger one.
…The youngest boy, older, with a little girl. The two older boys have gone.
…And lastly, an image of the little girl chasing another younger boy.
This last image lasted the longest, and it was the clearest, and it is all he showed me before my mind caught up and I cut it off. I need to learn to just let it flow, and stop worrying about what’s happening.
The tree expressed a gentle irritation for my ‘interruption’, but he let it go.
I asked him if any spirit could become a tree, and he told me in no uncertain terms, that it was not at all unusual. I told him of my desire to be a tree, just to watch people, maybe on a street corner, or, like this tree, watching over a family and holding a rope swing in my branches.
My mind began to wander, then, and I wondered to him how special a soul must be to become something like the sun, and how that might be decided.
He told me that trees believe that the sun was the first soul, and that the sun made everything grow.
‘So the sun is your creator?’, I asked.
’No,’ he replied, ‘the sun did not create us, it merely helped us, and helps us now, to grow.’
I grew restless, confused, ‘So, who is your creator?’
‘We have always been, we are, and we always will be. There is no beginning or end. It IS, and we ARE.’
I thanked him profusely for the story and the wisdom, and I prepare to ask him to tell me more, but my boyfriend wanted to go inside, since he had finished mowing the lawn. I thanked the tree again and promised to talk to him again, as I walked down to the creek, then back to the house.