Befriended

Here’s a portrait of a Windgrove “family” member in a traditional oval frame. His face might appear a bit hairy and not too smily, but this particular ancestor, even if a bit distant as kin, is always capable of providing whatever soul nutrition I might need.

There is a real Snakes & Ladders game that every child enters into upon birth with emotional consequences more testing than the perilous physical journey encountered by baby sea turtles as they navigate their way down the beach and then onwards towards maturity. The labyrinth of family, society, school and religion is a large maze that needs be negotiated. Whether with innocence, fear, caution, courage, boldness or timidity, every encounter we make as children creates a structural framework that we grow into and inhabit as adults.

For most of us, our ability to survive childhood doesn’t always equip us with the right tools to flourish as adults. To have a thriving life rather than a limp life of quiet despair is not easy in a society where physical, emotional, sexual and spiritual abuse are commonplace although denied.

Let’s face it. We still live in a world that honors violence over peace, vengeance over forgiveness, brutality over gentleness. If yesterdays honoring of the victims of 9/11 are to have any long term significance, than “we” as a global family have to start honoring the Gandhian belief that expecting violence to rid the world of violence is the equivalent of expecting darkness to dispel darkness.

This was referred to in the Kabir quote used two weeks ago when he said: “when deep inside you there is a loaded gun, how can you have God?”

We need all the help we can get.

If we’re fortunate enough as children to have Nature as a backyard, this help can come in the form of special tree “friends”. With them as wooded angels by our side, we not only stay the course throughout adulthood, but can steer the course to a better world.

Two tree spirits who befriended me as a young boy were the very tall, old spruce tree in the forest near our summer lake cottage and the wild apple tree growing in the middle of the field adjacent to this forest. To this day I can vividly remember when I first reached out to grab the fingers of the spruce tree’s long dangling, masculine arms. I shook them as in a handshake and felt such a surge of energy that I knew without doubt that I was actually shaking the hands of “someone”. Not at all spooky. Instead, really comforting for a youngster feeling a bit lonely and unfriended. And this caring from the Spruce man has allowed me to reciprocate care as an adult.

The apple tree was in many ways a surrogate grandmother or kindly nanny. Her wildly unpruned and unkempt leafy branches drooped low to the ground and created a sort of weathered, floured dusted skirt that I could crawl through to an inner sanctum of protection. From beneath this “greening of my soul” fabric I could spy on the bigger world whilst remaining hidden and secret and, oddly enough, nourished in some magical way so that feelings of shame or guilt or not belonging vanished and I would walk home just that much more strong to withstand whatever smack awaited.

I write all this because I still seek out trees to sustain me. They are part of my adult world of wise elders. Nothing better than to find a grizzly looking she-oak with its many dangling needles, crawl under, lie down and let the sun and air and soft scents of beauty waft gently over me.

As I did ten years ago, tree people are good people to be with when seeking comfort and guidance.

As I did ten years ago, I offer prayers of comfort and happiness to those families and friends who lost loved ones.

Today I also offer prayers of comfort and happiness to all those extra families in Afghanistan, Iraq, Bali, Spain, Norway and elsewhere who have lost loved ones to madness; especially those who lost their children.