“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned. ”
Learning about belonging from a tree...
Imagine a green and lively wood, full of the sounds of small animals and the gurgling of a stream as it runs over the small rocks that lie in its bed. On the shore of the stream, a young man stands in a posture that seems oddly formal for such a setting. His bare feet are on the bank, and in front of him, amidst the bushes and undergrowth there rises a large ash tree. His body, save for the deep and slow movements of his breathing is still, but his mind is uneasy.
That day, as many others, I had gone out into the woods of Michigan because they always brought me a sense of peace, which at that time was a rare and precious thing. So many questions, voiced and unvoiced, burdened me with the sense that there was something wrong about me, some way in which I just didn’t work as part of the world.
Standing, despite the weight of these feelings on my heart and mind, a part of me was able to appreciate the depth and perfection of the trees swaying in the wind, the songs of the birds, and the cool, rich earth I felt underneath my feet. Since I was so still, the birds came very close, and I was enjoying their songs and their dark, curious eyes.
In a moment, one of them flew up and landed on the side of the ash tree, which stood in front of me and slightly off to my right. I saw the rough bark, patchy in spots and covered with moss and lichen in others: I saw the branches, occasionally surrounded by the nests of gypsy moths and stripped of their leaves. Nevertheless, the tree was beautiful to me.
Suddenly, it struck me that I had no questions about whether that tree was in the right spot. I had no questions about whether it was growing the right way. It was simply a tree in the forest, and there was a space for it. Similarly, this tree had no questions of me. We were standing there, the ash and I, in implicit mutual relationship. There were no questions of belonging - no questions at all - just the tree standing, just me standing. I laughed. I cried. We stood together for some time, that day.
I hope I can share with you a little bit of what that tree (and many other teachers, friends, therapists, and nature allies) have shared with me over the years since that wonderful experience where I first truly felt that there was a space for me here. I hope I can help you, in an accepting, curious, kind and open environment, to find and unfold your heart more and more fully and deeply into this world.
Dan
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