Before I left Ojai in March I spent some time pruning the branches under one of the live oaks that resides in front of my house. I had discovered that under that particular tree it is always cool, no matter the temperature, a light breeze blows and it feels like a little hideaway. Returning May 8, among many surprises, including the abundance of artichokes on the huge plant in one of the garden spirals, was the way the pruned oak had responded to the pruning a few months ago. It felt like the tree had made the space beneath itself bigger and more accommodating.
At the same time, I am reading a charming little book called
Talks with trees by Leslie Cabarga, that contains a series of interviews with plants and trees. Since talking to trees is simply a version of witnessing, I feel comfortable with the practice and decided to see if I could interview the oak. The tree said that the space it created is my Beit Midrash, my house of study,
"Bring me your questions and your observations" it said. The tree then observed the flight of my ideas, a common experience I have.
"My, you are flighty! Your attention can go miles in a moment!" I asked he tree its name.
"Camarade" was the answer. "Like comrade? or camaraderie?" I asked.
"More the second. I host a world here, it isn't just me, there are nematodes, worms, birds. I am a place of friends and associates." We talked for quite a while, I was recording the conversation in my journal the same way I do when I witness my art work. I asked if it was okay for me to blog about this encounter. In the past I've had some very profound experiences and it turned out to be not the right time to blog. The tree suggested I re-read my notes. What emerged as the thing to share is this: I was reflecting on what a great sabbath observance it was to sit in my tree beit midrash and learn. I heard
"Spill some tea" and asked if I'd really heard that. Camarade said
"Yes, you heard that. Spill some tea and spill less of yourself. You get filled up to overflow, spilling is one way to release the overage. Notice when you are feeling that way, let it go." I got that to symbolically spill is a way to acknowledge the mad fullness of life's abundance, to honor it and to let some of the inflationary energy out of me. I wondered if this could be a reason the ancient priests spilled blood on the altar. I also began to feel a wave of doubt come over me. I decided to go back out and sit with Camarade again. "What if you're only a tree?" He replied: "
It can be that way if you choose, is that what you want?" Such terrible sadness welled up in me, my eyes flooded with tears. I choose to learn to be in the mad fullness of life and learn how to
be in that. It sounds easier than it feels....
At the same time, I am reading a charming little book called Talks with trees by Leslie Cabarga, that contains a series of interviews with plants and trees. Since talking to trees is simply a version of witnessing, I feel comfortable with the practice and decided to see if I could interview the oak. The tree said that the space it created is my Beit Midrash, my house of study, "Bring me your questions and your observations" it said. The tree then observed the flight of my ideas, a common experience I have. "My, you are flighty! Your attention can go miles in a moment!" I asked he tree its name. "Camarade" was the answer. "Like comrade? or camaraderie?" I asked. "More the second. I host a world here, it isn't just me, there are nematodes, worms, birds. I am a place of friends and associates." We talked for quite a while, I was recording the conversation in my journal the same way I do when I witness my art work. I asked if it was okay for me to blog about this encounter. In the past I've had some very profound experiences and it turned out to be not the right time to blog. The tree suggested I re-read my notes. What emerged as the thing to share is this: I was reflecting on what a great sabbath observance it was to sit in my tree beit midrash and learn. I heard "Spill some tea" and asked if I'd really heard that. Camarade said "Yes, you heard that. Spill some tea and spill less of yourself. You get filled up to overflow, spilling is one way to release the overage. Notice when you are feeling that way, let it go." I got that to symbolically spill is a way to acknowledge the mad fullness of life's abundance, to honor it and to let some of the inflationary energy out of me. I wondered if this could be a reason the ancient priests spilled blood on the altar. I also began to feel a wave of doubt come over me. I decided to go back out and sit with Camarade again. "What if you're only a tree?" He replied: "It can be that way if you choose, is that what you want?" Such terrible sadness welled up in me, my eyes flooded with tears. I choose to learn to be in the mad fullness of life and learn how to be in that. It sounds easier than it feels....
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