Post 120.

Few people will believe, but once upon a time, trees migrated across fields and within forests by bending their roots toward greener or more golden grass, or by creeping to hillsides where clouds clustered, creating the right encounter of tears and sunny consolation for those learning to band their bellies with the rings of time.

Trees of all heights and colours negotiated over maps, and were expert cartographers, just as they understood assorted soils, having woven their way over more dinosaur bones than paleontologists have yet identified. Trees didn’t just travel for ecological variety, they also embarked on spiritual quests, and adventures with karmic kindred, sought communities that offered rejuvenation and peace, and patiently pursued abiding and defining love.

One day, one ambitious and thoughtful sapling, only recently grown strong in stalk and only just casting wide her many arms, decided she would never move, search or chatter like the others before and around her. She intertwined enduringly with the land beneath, reached her entire self toward the galaxies she wanted to emulate, called on earth’s elements to watch over her soul, and began a vow of eternal quiet.

Over uncountable rotations of the planet, diverse trees came to stay near her, understanding more and more that knowledge, when experienced, need not always be spoken. Simply lived. One by one by one, every tree across the surface of the world came to first hear about her, as the wind circled and swept through them all, and then to feel her assurance radiate from the complex network at the base of their trunk to their uppermost, unfurling tendril.

What consciousness caused such a transformation?

The tree realized that a path is not always followed by switching terrain, direction or companions, for grass that appears gold from afar may always have been only brown, and arriving to such deception can wither your heart. Rather, paths may merely be about the practice of being deeply grounded, tall in spine, true in reach and light in breath; finding freedom without escaping belonging.

The tree came to appreciate her changes as natural and beautiful, her needs as exactly how she would blossom, and her imperfections and wounds as profound inscriptions about acceptance. She saw that the weather is her teacher, and there is no point running from truths.

It is unavoidable. Some will break your branches, but some will honour even your bare boughs, adoring whatever your texture, twists and size. Though some will carelessly tear your leaves, they will also be valued as emerald jewels. Similarly, some will listen while others rush past. Not noticing you, some will deny that even trees get lonely. Therefore, some will never think of giving you a hug. This occurs far and wide. So why run? Where can you go?

The tree observed that some will enter you like rain or express unpredictable affection, coming and going like the seasons, with their reassuring familiarity and no promises to return. Different creatures and spirits will love you, and though some will feel good, some will not give enough, and while some will want your love, others will brush it away. Release and receive all, with stoicism and graceful sway. Thirsts and hungers will be met or may leave you hollow, but your spirit will always disperse like seeds that burst into a thousand rebirths.

In evolving strength, stability and serenity wherever they stood, all trees now carry her wisdom. Keep their company, with your mind still and senses alert. The insight they share is continual certainty that you, like them, are exactly where you are meant to be.