Tree Whispers

Tree Whispers

Shinrin-yoku is a complementary medicine modality, designed to up-lift sub-par health conditions, through lifestyle changes that involve immersion in nature, specifically the wildness, we call a forest, where the senses, including our intuitive sense and ability to heal ourselves through it, is ignited.

Forest bathing, as Shinrin-yoku is popularly called, has come to our attention, at a time when the scientific community is abuzz about the ability of trees - be it in stands, groves, or forests, to build community. This, at a time, when we as humans, struggle hard to build and sustain healthy in-person communities, in the face of Online communications.

Books like “The Hidden Life of Trees: What they Feel, How they Communicate Discoveries from a Secret World,” (Wohlleben 2016) by Peter Wohlleben is a Wall Street Journal, New York Times and Washington Post bestseller. It makes readers privy to trees’ communication skills and social networks, that is, it helps us entertain the idea. The Wall Street Journal refers to the author as “A veritable tree whisperer.” 

People toss the whisperer title around, there are dog whisperers, ghost whisperers and horse whisperers, among others, but I couldn’t help but think about the historical African American tree whisperers, which I wrote about in “Sticks, Stones, Roots and Bones,” and other works, upon reading that quote.

In my neighborhood, as in most, there are specimen trees. True, they find ways of coming together in stunning visual and spiritual ways. Yesterday, I took a long overdue trip to the forest, along with my son-in-law and my dog. I don’t know how my companions were feeling exactly but empathically I sensed a great deal of curiosity and a warm heart towards the experience from the two. I felt like a little child again. It was magical to enter the sacred space forest and woods create. Though it is a lowland forest, the trees towered above us and in the better locations it made for a mystical, cathedral-like atmosphere. We chatted. My dog roamed and the trees whispered.

There were many trees that had fallen and others that were quite old, who had been cut down. Those areas were like a funeral pallor; sad and mournful. The feeling was inexplicable but omnipresent. After a while, the feelings eased because I sensed a surrender. The living trees accepted what must be.

As we walked deeper, the earth got muddier. There was a feeling that we would be submerged, with each step we seemed to sink in further. We wondered aloud, how deep into the earth we might go and there was no way around it. We looked back from whence we came. We were too far in turn around. Like the trees, we too must surrender to the happening around us, and continue.

Then I was struck by a call from a fat and juicy tree. It was holding a story. It said, “Put your spine on me. Absorb my messages.” I promptly did so. Then it said, “Turn around and give me a full hug.” I did that too.

I saw veins in my mind’s eye. Hmmm. What the heck? As we rode towards my home, I began to unpack the whisper. Veins speak about connection, interconnectivity and working together. As I went from deep inside my head, I looked up as we came to a stop light. In front of us was a big black Sequoia. My son-in-law and I laughed. “I want to go to the Redwood Forest,” he said. Not sure how or when, “It’ll happen. That was a very clear sign.”