Many years ago, during a moment of personal crisis, a friend of mine took me into a local park to visit a “magical tree”: his description, not mine. He had heard that the traditional people used to come to visit a giant spruce (1) for solace and inspiration, and had decided to try its healing powers. Now he wanted to share his experience with me. I find that all good friends are deeply concerned when you have problems and are always willing to help. This was a bit much, though. I went along mostly to humor him. The forest was confined by the local city and its suburbs. What is so interesting about the urban park phenomenon is that no one has told the trees that they are to be constrained or limited. As soon as we left the developed environs, the forest unfolded her charms. The noise stopped and was filled with the soft “cooing” of the birds, bugs and undulating leaves which is the signature of all natural and unlimited life. As we walked along the earthen path and penetrated further and further into the wilderness, if you could call it such, my frustrations and anxieties seemed to be less and less important. We are often told that our perception of the world (2) is the created reality that we occupy: all actuality is created by the self. This is easy to read and attempt to put into practice but much, much harder to do. I was reminded by something that I read from Anne Frank (1929-1945) “Look at all of all the beauty still left around you and be happy. … I’ve found that there is always some beauty left — in nature, sunshine, freedom, in yourself; these can all help you. … I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains. … The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy amidst the simple beauty of nature. … I firmly believe that nature brings comfort in all troubles.” (3)
We arrived at the side of this beautiful being. She jutted up, up, upwards to the heavens. Gnarled and old, much like my grandmother, she did seem to have hidden wisdom to impart. Forgetting my embarrassment and misgivings, I embraced her for the longest time. She smelled like life itself: deep and exotic and inviting. This was the first time in my life that I had been so intimate with Gaia, with Mother Earth. I come from the baby boomer age (4) of mass consumption and runaway hedonism. If it couldn’t be useful or eaten, it was of little value. Vast swaths of forests and immense oceans of fish were exploited in this way. As a child, there was no end nature’s carpet of trees and to the salmon’s bounty from the sea.
I remember seeing huge barges filled to overflowing with trees (5) and vibrating vats of salmon. (6) This age has lapsed into history. We are now as divorced from nature as the farm is from the chicken burger. Today, the majority of humanity lives in boxes in the city and we buy our prepackaged food from the convenience store or the supermarket. The calling of the unfettered environment never leaves us, however. We often see crowds of duly-frocked hikers getting on a bus heading to the mountains on the weekend. Even more optimistic for Earth, cycling as a sport and a lifestyle is expanding. (7) I sat beside the tree for a long, long time. It was one of those seminal moments that we all have in life: do I give up and accept what is or do I move forward and investigate what could be? I chose the latter, though, on the surface, it was much more difficult. The scientist, philosopher, and humanist, Albert Einstein (1879-1955), leaves us with a thought: A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.
A closing thought: The other morning I awoke quite early, it seems to be always too early, and trundled to the washroom. I like to shave and brush my teeth to begin my day. I, incidentally, have a little plant on the shelf beside the mirror. I have given her the name of Eudoxia, or Goodness, and talk to her every day. She has become my closest connection to nature, or so I apologize to myself. The other morning a mosquito sat nestled rather comfortably on the wall beside the shelf. I instinctively swatted and killed her. But, “the great hunter” felt guilty. Why did I feel that I had the power to take this life? There is no malaria outbreak at the moment, to the best of my knowledge. I am neither a vegetarian nor a deep environmentalist, but I do increasingly believe that all life, even the lowly cockroach, should be afforded some dignity. As my bones get closer to the earth, this is ringing more and more true.
To sum up: This week, we spoke about our identification with nature and all her glory. We also discussed that life, in any form, should be, within reason, protected and respected. We live mostly in cities. Though it is difficult, we should try to access nature and the gifts she gives us as often as possible. We feel happiest when we take a walk in the mountains or along a softly flowing brook.
A philosophical question: Why is the length of any queue always concomitant with how late you are for an appointment?
Just for fun — Louie Armstrong: What a wonderful world ( 1967 )
This week, please reflect on your last excursion into nature: when was the last time you made this trip?
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: We are all connected to the universe. My life is so subjective, unfortunately, that I must make an effort to find this connection: through prayer, through meditation or through a walk in the mountains.
Footnotes:
3) Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl (ISBN 9-786-0731-031-90)
4) Baby boomers
5) Time Lapse loading barge with logs from Ladysmith BC Canada
6) Historic Fraser Sockeye Fishery Caught in Hi-Def
7) Two-wheel takeover: bikes outnumber cars for the first time in Copenhagen