Who I am.

I write about the landscape of grief, nature, and the wisdom of fools. The author of four books, my essays, poems, and reviews have been published in over 50 journals, including in the Huffington Post and Colorado Review. I’ve won the River Teeth Nonfiction Book Award, the Chautauqua and Literal Latte’s essay prizes, and my work has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes and named a notable by Best American Essays. My account of hiking in Yosemite to deal with my wife’s death, Mountains of Light, was published by the University of Nebraska Press. http://www.markliebenow.com.

Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Talking to Trees

When a friend received bad news about her cancer, I thought, “I’ll go out and talk to the trees.”

Bear with me a moment. I used to light candles, think of those who needed support, and prayed. I sometimes still do, but talking to the trees seemed to be the right thing to do here.

I went out and spoke to the trees in the forest behind my house. I spoke to their branches, and their leaves, and finally to their roots, because I’m not sure where their communication receptors are. I found the sacred Mother Tree and shared my words with her because she is so old that her roots probably connect to all the other trees in the forest. 

When the wind picked up, I imaged that she was sharing my message through her leaves with forests further away, and then sending the message through the sky to the trees where my friend was ailing. They sang to her in the movement of their leaves, and brought her something she needed, perhaps only a word, or a soothing sound, that calmed her fears and allowed her to sleep for a couple of hours.

Does my talking to the trees, or lighting candles, change anything? Does prayer? Prayer is a mode of communication, not a vending machine. God is not our butler, hanging around waiting to do our bidding. But if I ask God for advice, and I hear back that I should talk to the trees, who am I to argue?

Some of you may remember Clint Eastwood singing “I Talk to the Trees” in the movie Paint Your Wagon.Contrary to his experience, I think the trees do listen.

My spirit says yes, that talking to trees helps, but my logical brain wants something more solid. Here it is. If I’m outside talking to the trees and the branches are moving, and the person I want to help knows that I’m doing this, and the branches in the trees around her are moving, this makes a difference to her. I know that I would be touched if someone were talking to the trees on my behalf. It’s the same feeling if someone knows that I am going to light a candle for her 7 p.m. and think about her for ten minutes. During that time, she feels my presence. Even though we’re separated by distance, we’re connected by time.

The Buddhists have a meditation (tonglen) that is like my tree talking. They sit in a room and focus on generating compassion. When they have kindled enough compassion, they send waves of it out to others who need it, people who probably aren’t even aware of this happening. Their belief is that this makes a difference in people’s lives.

And maybe something is going on in the physical world. Maybe trees release specific ions into the air and this is how they communicate with each other. A lot of things happen in the world I can’t explain. At the very least, doing something like generating compassion, lighting candles, or talking to trees, changes us and opens our heart to the suffering of others.

My logical brain again. If you fill yourself with compassion and go out among people, they will “feel” peacefulness coming from you, from the look in your eyes to your relaxed manner of walking, and they will feel more peaceful themselves. You know how seeing someone with a beaming smile makes you feel good? It’s like that. We become the compassion.

When we hear of someone who is struggling, we want to do something. So do SOMETHING, even if it’s just talking to the trees.

2 comments:

  1. Anytime you need a little help, I'm glad to talk to the trees on your behalf (and my own). I'm family with many trees in my forest. As David Waggener says in the poem "Lost":
    "...Stand still. The forest knows
    Where you are. You must let it find you."
    What a beautiful post! Thank you.

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  2. I think this explains alot to me...I love to look at trees, and think how I would draw, sketch, or paint that tree. I love trees. Always thought I was weird or something...lol...now I know... maybe they were talking to me and I didn't know to listen

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