More About the Trees

It is nearly midnight and the trees have stopped moving and finally settled down for the night. They are standing still, but although their faces are expressionless, they are sharing a secret language, communicating a steady stream of information that goes unnoticed by the sleepers who are turning in their beds, immersed in dream after flickering dream.

I am awake. I go to stand by the bedroom window and watch the quarter moon descending into the trees, where it is welcomed as an old friend, a regular visitor who drops by to shine for a time and then sinks out of sight. I try to listen in on the quiet chatter passing around the tree community. They do not think like we do, so I have to discard my own thoughts if I am going to get the gist of their conversation tonight.

Even though most of us see things in terms of light and dark, day and night, the trees have hundreds of different expressions for minute changes in the quality of light. To really understand their appreciation for luminosity, we need to pay attention to the steady parade of subtle changes taking place throughout the day. If we are very quiet, we can notice that nothing stays the same, even from moment to moment. This in itself is a salient recognition, pointing to the true nature of all appearances.

There is a sentinel at the gates of our senses, standing guard against the vast armies of pertinent information which might unravel our views and sensibilities if allowed to enter in. Instead, we only respond to the safe and vetted, the already too familiar. Only the already known gains passage, and so we remain essentially senseless, enclosed in a dead loop, cycling about in a cemetery of worn and futile reactivity. Our presumptions of knowledge merely represent the crumbling tombstones which mark our stale self-images.

We placed those sentinels at our gates out of fear of the unknown, not realizing that we came here for the very purpose of fully immersing ourselves in its revelations. When we remove those barriers, whether all at once or little by little, the rest of the herd will get spooked and disturbed: “What, are you mad, how dare you!”

Because you are raw now, vulnerable, you may seek the sanctuary of the forest, and the trees there will be kind, they will shelter you. They will share their secret language, their wisdom words which they have learned by standing still and listening, studying the changing light, and feeling to infinity, like we all were meant to do.

 

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About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have several other sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: http://www.pbase.com/1heart Essays on the Conscious Process: http://theconsciousprocess.wordpress.com/ Poetry and Prosetry: https://feelingtoinfinity.wordpress.com/ Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: https://westernmystics.wordpress.com/ Free Transliterations of Spiritual Texts: http://freetransliterations1.blogspot.com/ Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: https://spiritguidesparrow.wordpress.com/ Thank You!
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4 Responses to More About the Trees

  1. Tiger-Leaping-Fusion says:

    And the trees do listen, they also have mood and recognition. I have seen this, I have been fortunate as to hear their speak. They can be mischievous and watchful and deceiving, but only to play, to see if you are listening. I have seen this – am I mad? Oh yes my dear friend – I’m quite mad – as the hatter. And he, was a man who knew. It’s where we came from. We are here, because of a mushroom, at the base of the largest trees. We grew, we came out of the mushroom, thought we were taller because we could move. We never stopped moving, the more we learnt, the more we separated ourselves from the Forrest…..

  2. Bob OHearn says:

    https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/04/trees-have-their-own-songs/521742/?utm_source=fbb

    “This acoustic world is open to everyone, but most of us never enter it. It just seems so counter-intuitive—not to mention a little hokey—to listen to trees. But Haskell does listen, and he describes his experiences with sensuous prose in his enchanting new book The Songs of Trees. A kind of naturalist-poet, Haskell makes a habit of returning to the same places and paying “repeated sensory attention” to them. “I like to sit down and listen, and turn off the apps that come pre-installed in my body,” he says. Humans may be a visual species, but “sounds reveals things that are hidden from our eyes because the vibratory energy of the world comes around barriers and through the ground. Through sound, we come to know the place.””

  3. Akuokuo says:

    I looooooove trees! I actually have a favorite one named Harriet–although once I heard someone else calling her Jacob! Lovely post and so glad you gave the link to the article above 🙂

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