Turning People into Trees

As anyone who has watched the everchanging gold, pink, and purple of a sunset can attest, being mindful outdoors can be such a simple and pleasurable experience. We humans belong to and are part of the natural world, and especially because we now spend so much of our time in the built environment, being outdoors can be so refreshing. The realm of people, rich and engaging though it is, can sometimes feel much more complicated than the realm of trees and birds.

Somehow at home and at work, because we are all the same species, speaking a common language, we can tend to operate with certain unspoken expectations, thinking we have a certain level of control over situations, expecting similarities in perspectives which would allow easy understanding with our fellow humans. And so, we might experience again and again, those strangely shocking moments of realizing, “this is not at all what I expected and wished for,” “the outcome of this situation is unknown and completely out of my hands,” “what in the world can that person be thinking?!” 

A walk outside can then feel like a respite, a place to breathe and regroup… and if we’re open to it, what we experience outdoors can invite learning and insight that we can carry with us back into our human communities.

How, you ask?

Appreciating Difference → Loving What Is

The Canada Geese at Lake El Estero often hang out in large groups. At dawn in the winter, I would sit on a bench and see them, a group of 30 or more taking their rest together, sometimes with a honk ringing out from time to time, the group growing more chatty as the sun came up. In the dark of the morning, a Great Blue Heron would silently and gracefully flap past and perch high in a eucalyptus tree. One heron, never more. 

Observing the behavior of different birds can teach us about accepting and embracing innate differences. Geese are not annoying and silly for sharing their loud honking together. Herons are not rude and antisocial for their habit of standing alone. Watching the birds, we understand clearly that differences in behavior are part of the uniqueness of each species, part of the way they are made. While we might have our favorites among the species, our love of an owl doesn’t stop us from loving a bluebird.

Can we bring this “inside” to appreciate what each of our human companions brings to the table?

 
 

Being OK with Not Having Control → Embracing Adventure

Do you want to go to the beach today? It might be so warm and still that you’ll sweat inside your hoodie, and you’ll be so warm that you’ll wish for a dip in the waves that are lapping gently at the shore… or your hoodie might feel flimsy and thin, as a stiff cold wind blows relentlessly. You would never dream of submerging in the powerful waves, whitecaps as far as you can see. 

And what do we always say, those of us who are at home on the Central Coast of California? “Wear layers.” We walk out ready for warmth, for wind, for whatever the day holds, understanding fully that we are not in control. Is it warm? Just take off a layer, wearing a tee-shirt in November. Is it cold? Time for a hat, even though it’s July. And sometimes, we even embrace the wildness of weather, considering a walk in unexpected rain as an adventure.

What adventure might we choose to embrace today as we encounter situations where we’re not in control?

Things as They Are → Cultivating Curiosity

Ram Dass said “When you go out into the woods and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreens, and some of them are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You appreciate it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it. You appreciate the tree. The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying “You’re too this, or I’m too this.” That judging mind comes in. And so I practice turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are.”

Beautiful, isn’t it? There’s a Monterey Cypress tree near my apartment with a huge thick trunk, yet it is surprisingly short. One of its branches is so large and so sprawling, that the city installed a metal post in the ground to support it. Across the lake is another Cypress tree that comparatively looks like a model, wide base narrowing to a slender trunk that sweeps up tall before expanding into a perfectly-shaped canopy. 

There’s nothing wrong with these trees. I love the first tree because its shortness and spreading branches allow me (a shorty myself!) to climb up and sit in it. I love the second tree mostly from afar, admiring its shape from a distance. There is no better or worse, perhaps just a sense of wonder and curiosity in the variety of two trees of the same species living nearby each other. 

How can we bring wonder and curiosity into how we relate to ourselves and to others? What do we find ourselves appreciating when we “turn people into trees?”

🌼 Learn from the Natural World:

OutdoorsKatie Dutcher