The Magic of a Tree

I listen to the trees. I also speak to them. I have for most of my adult life; ever since I was a teenager. At seventeen, I sent off on a journey to understand spirituality. I was healing from an eating disorder and dealing with major depression. I went to a women’s herbal gathering on Vashon Island by myself, and I played my ashiko drum often. Embracing being a woman was at the center of my search, though later I would identify as non-binary. What I did find in my search of women’s wisdom, is a great appreciation for nature. My mother was a master Gardner, and I had a great respect for herbal medicine, and the wisdom which seemed to be greatly in the hands of our elder women. I became closer to my mother as I nurtured myself to health and out of my depression with writing and journaling. I discovered poetry and song. I played guitar and sang often. Finding my voice, my confident singing voice that could break through, and was not held back or quiet due to inhibition, helped me discover spirituality and identity. I went to the snowy mountains often, by myself on the weekdays, to go snowboarding. I loved it up at the top of the mountain. I hiked in Washington State often. Later I would drive to the mountains and the rivers in the summer, and would camp regularly. When I would drive out for the day, I would plant myself on a clear cut and listen. I would connect with the earth and hear the voices of the trees. Still to this day, I sit in my backyard or on the property, and I listen for their voices.

The earth has many species, but trees I believe, all get along. They are individuals and one voice at the same time. They know more than we give them credit for. Their spirit and wisdom lives on in the wood that we surround ourselves with in our architecture and our homes. The wood in our floors comforts us and makes us feel held. Lately, I have been very into rocks, and during recent psychotic episodes, have fallen into their universe. Rocks hold wisdom and voice as well. I believe they have spirit and can speak. I collect them on the beach, and find larger ones to connect to on the sea bluffs or in the forest. They speak of distant time. They live for thousands of years. Some are more special than others, but not really. When I was seventeen, I carried a large rock with me, and slept with it on my bed stand, believing it would help me heal my eating disorder. In my difficult times, the rocks have brought me much comfort. Just like the trees. Sprit and wind passes thought the trees’ branches. Sometimes I actually hear gentle voices, unlike with the rocks. My deep inner spirituality was born from this connection. I find it harmless, if I am doing well, and not being carried off in psychosis. I call them my friends.

There are other things that hold the spirit of nature and magic, for me. One is the tarot cards, and also the runes. If one believes in the sacredness of these practices, they respond and offer sacredness back. Divination, in this way, is very simple and very natural. There are some basic rules that I behold with the tarot. Sometimes the universe is simple and easy to read, and sometimes what is true is hidden and difficult to devise. And this is okay. You can ask too much, so keep it simple and respect the boundaries of divination. If you pull and major reading every day, as I have done, let it be more about educating oneself about the cards and doing research. The more one asks, the less spirit flows through these articles of divination. Also, I was told by a wise teacher that the cards are meant to be read for you and only you. Reading the cards for someone else is not the way, as a matter of fact. I cannot read your cards. I can encourage you to come to a spiritual resolution from what is laid out before you. Talking to the trees or the rocks is similar. Nothing is too special to be tossed back to the winds. If one is getting messages of self-pity, self-loathing, pertaining to the ego, or any other sin, the message has been tainted by your own process. To stay pure, one must remain open, and be willing to throw it all back to the wind, wash it in the water, or to put it in the earth. Nothing is too precious to offer back to the cosmos. Sometimes our deepest revelations are meant to be forgotten. They will return when the time is right.