Listen to the Trees...

I have just returned from an enchanted weekend spent in the company of an immense forest of wise evergreens. From the moment we reached the foot of the mountain, throughout our four-day retreat, and all the way back down again, I was greeted by the gentle lulling of the wind blowing through their pointed leaves. They used their flighty companion, the wind, to send down a message. It gently touched against my cheek and blew past each ear. Though there were numerous distractions that beckoned my attention, I could not tune out their poignant words. What was it? What was the message that they whispered down to me? It was a truth. One that chills to the bone and at the same time heightens one’s senses.

It was the truth that one day, I, like every other being that has breath, will perish and become part of the earth under their rooted feet. It was the inescapable truth that I am a mortal being. One need only to look at the grandeur and the sheer size of these pine-scented sages to see what a small, piece of the puzzle we are in this mystery called the universe. Is this something new? Of course not. It is the same message they have been speaking from the beginning of time. But, we forget. We spend our days running at a dizzying pace, filling the atmosphere around us with noise to drown their voice out. We avoid silence. We avoid stillness. We FEAR them. Why?

Because we know what they will say. We know that we will be reminded of our mortality and that is not agreeable to us. But, why should we fear it? Do the trees speak to us as though to taunt…like an older sibling does his brother when he gains permission to do something his younger brother cannot? No. Their voice is not one that taunts. It is not one that jeers. It is one that soothes. If you pay attention closely, you will hear it. In the rustling of their needles, you will hear the distinct sound of empathy. And if you train your ear with the greatest degree of excellence, you may even hear the sound of thankfulness. They are thankful to us, for everything is tied together. One thing does not exist without the other. Those tall, peaceful beings owe their height, in part, to us for they would not have the soil around their roots to nourish their growth if our bodies did not disintegrate into the dirt. And in their thankfulness, they, in turn, provide for us clean air, cool shade, and sober thoughts. So, rather than be afraid—rather than try to drown out their voice, maybe we should, instead, look to them and say…"Thank You" AND "You’re Welcome”.