The first session of this online seminar about tree wisdom and forest bathing was this evening. Say hello to my two tree pals, residents of my front yard. I’m grateful for their shade in the summer (they block to south-facing heat hitting the house, which is pretty intense in these parts). In winter, with leaves gone, they allow just enough sunlight to get in the house for warmth and nourishing winter light. I was going to have a chat with these pals this afternoon, but the overly friendly mosquitoes were a bit much. We’ll need a hard frost before those wee beasties are rid of, and then I can commune more freely with my trees.
We talked about what it means to be cracked open, like the acorn shell that must break in order to reach its full potential as an oak tree. I’ve been cracked open countless times over my lifetime and for me this means breaking that shell of who I think I am, which isn’t at all the Truth about myself. As a spirit-centered person, I try to connect with that Truth about myself—when I’m not busy letting my ego direct my life (and others, because it thinks it’s in charge of everything). Cracking open has made me more and more comfortable with being vulnerable. Publishing my memoir (which is largely a journey of my being cracked open) also ripped any shred of an idea I ever had about protecting myself to bits. My soul was bared for the world to see. Yes, there’s still a lot hidden. N’dank, n’dank, as the Wolof saying goes, little by little. It’s one of the few phrases I retained from my brief stint in the Peace Corps in Senegal. It’s no wonder it’s stuck with me all these years. It’s my mantra for survival.