My Tree Teachers
The Crone is a symbol of inherent wisdom. Although the Crone is the harbinger death, she is also responsible for birth and new life. She is our archetypal midwife.
~ A TREE SHOWS UP AS ITSELF ~
HALIFAX. 1998. KEEPING SECRETS
Dear Journal,
Oh, White Birch, how I admired your white bark.
You stood as a beacon in the forest.
I observed you from near and far.
Many times, as I passed by,
I reached out and touched your beauty,
Hoping to capture some of your light to hold within.
Oh, to be like you.
In the winter, you radiated warmth
And love on the coldest day.
I wrapped my arms around you,
Wanting so desperately to have what you had.
But, for some reason,
It was yours and yours alone
And I stood there in your shadow
Questioning my worth.
Oh, White Birch, what is your secret?
Oh, Willow, I watched you in a winter storm.
You were so flexible;
You seemed to move as if you were one with the wind.
The ice and snow weighed you down,
Some of your branches laid
On the ground,
Buried beneath the snow.
The sun came out
And as its warmth melted the ice and snow,
You regained your composure.
Once again you stood tall.
I reached out and touched you
Hoping to have what you had,
But my body remained rigid and stiff.
My neck ached and my shoulders hurt.
The weight of the world was so heavy.
Oh, Willow, what is your secret?
Oh, Sugar Maple,
I stood there in awe of you.
You were always the first to show
Your colour in the fall;
Your leaves a vibrant orange.
And there you stood confidently
among the green, making a profound
but simple statement: “I am.”
I reached out to touch you and to take a leaf,
Hoping to have what you had.
You stood there as a leader in your full glory,
While all I wanted was to hide from life.
If only I didn’t have to be seen.
I didn’t want to hear the cruel remarks.
“Here are some socks for your bra, Karen”
I cringe at the memory.
Oh, Sugar Maple, what is your secret?
Oh, Manitoba Maple,
I admired your strength and courage
As you stood naked in the winter’s cold.
You wore your scars without shame.
There was no mask, no illusion.
You stood straight and tall knowing your own beauty.
I wrapped my arms around you,
Desperately wanting what you had.
I would stand naked in front of the mirror,
But the ugliness reflected back was too great to bear.
Oh, Manitoba Maple, what is your secret?
Oh, Spruce, I watched you during a hurricane-force wind.
I admired your courage and strength.
Your top swayed to and fro
But your roots held firm.
It was if you knew you were safe,
Rooted deeply in Mother Earth,
And you were honoured to meet the challenge.
I reached out and touched you.
Oh, to be like you and to have your trust.
I was hiding in a corner trembling with fright.
I could hear my inner child asking if it was over yet.
Oh, Spruce what is your secret?
Oh, Hemlock, they said you were over 300 years old.
You had aged so gracefully.
There you stood, so straight and tall,
Your massive roots spread wide and deep.
You were so big I couldn’t fully wrap my arms around you.
I felt your wisdom, your strength
And the life force that flowed through you.
I stood there desperate for what you had.
Returning home, I stood in front of the mirror
And the image that was reflected caused me great pain.
I had just turned 40.
Perimenopause they say.
My body is changing, my once brown hair has strands of grey,
My eyes hollow and filled with tears.
How can this be?
I haven’t yet celebrated my youth.
Oh, Hemlock, what is your secret?
Oh, trees, I know you are my teachers.
I stand in your shadows
Waiting for you to share your secrets.
I so desperately want what you have.
You keep your secrets well.
Why won’t you share them with me?
Am I not worthy of your wisdom?
In frustration,
Karen
HALIFAX. AUGUST 1998. TREE WISDOM
Dear Journal,
I remember when I was a child and my heart hurt, I had my own secret place. It was a stone pile that had been created when my grandfather had cleared the farmland in 1918. Over the years, the trees grew up among the rocks and there I felt safe and hidden from the harsh world. I used to lay on a large sloping rock feeling the pain of not belonging. I often felt like the trees reached down and held me with their branches and as they soothed my hurting heart, I remember feeling one with them. It was the one place where I felt I belonged.
Last night I had a dream. I was a child again and I was in my secret place. I was crying and the trees were holding me with their branches as they whispered. “Little one, we aren’t keeping any secrets from you; what you seek, you have hidden deep inside you. It is you who does not feel worthy of what you see in us. Remember, we are one. Journal if this is truth, then the trees can’t give me what I seek. It is already within me, but I have already gone within. I have learned much about myself. How much deeper do I have to go?
This dream is stuck in my head. I have so many questions and no answers. I feel so alone.
Karen
HALIFAX. APRIL 2022. SHOWING UP AS MYSELF
Dear Journal,
You may remember many years ago I expressed my exasperation with the trees and the secrets that I was so certain they were keeping from me. I wrote a poem upon your pages that day. Today I feel inspired to continue that poem.
Oh, trees, you have always been my teachers
And your healing balm has soothed
my hurting heart, time and time again.
I listened to the wise words
That you gave to me in a dream long ago.
I have journeyed deeper within
And just like you said,
It was I who did not feel worthy;
Buried deep in my shadow,
I discovered all that I saw in you.
I no longer stand in your shadows.
Instead, I stand with you in the light.
Like you, I too am rooted deeply in Mother Earth.
I can face the darkest night
And stand strong in a violent storm,
Knowing that I am safe.
I too, have mastered moving as one with the wind
And when a burden is heavy,
Like you, I know I can bear the weight
As long as needed
And then release it with love.
I now stand naked without shame;
My body straight and tall,
Wearing the scares that remind me
I have the strength, courage and
Soul stamina,
To withstand human cruelty.
Like you, I grow old gracefully.
It is a joy to experience life
And like you, I grow wiser as each year passes.
Trees, I now know the truth of your teachings.
Your beauty is but a reflection of my own.
We are one.
We are one.
Journal, what I have learned on this inner journey is that I have been reluctant to show up as myself. I preferred to hide in the intergenerational story of ‘not enough’. I chose to live small in an effort to belong, to feel safe
One thing I know for sure is, I have never heard a birch tree saying, “I am done with being a deciduous tree. It is not fair that I have to lose all my leaves every winter when this spruce beside me is dressed year-round. When am I going to be enough to have earned that right?” Thank you, Universe, for the gift of humour and the light it shines on absurdness of this story. The truth is, a tree simply shows up as itself knowing it is enough and I have the power to do the same.
Thank you trees for showing me how to free myself of this spell and show up in my power.
Love and light,
Katharina
SELF-AWARENESS QUESTIONS
If to be human is to become visible, to show up as yourself then:
1) Where in your life are you not allowing your true self to be seen?
2) Are you trapped in the spell of ‘not enough’? If so, what will it take for you to decide the break the spell?