A Conversation with a Yawning Oak (Originally called Myself as a Tree)

There lives a world deep beneath, in the ground, alongside and under earth-walkers … a place that is not easily felt or visible to busy humans;
a place that a walker cannot not visit,
…except as a tree.
Here, where the world is bigger, wider just beneath the surface, longer waves of terrestrial synapses speak to all that is in Earth;
They bond all that is planted, lodged, rooted, buried here beneath.

We are Nation… slower by your sense of time, bigger and wider, over epochs.
We are alive, joined by links that connect to far more than Tree-ness. In fact, to my nation I am not a tree at all; not as you see me.
I am not aware of myself as Tree, but as Vessel for the Pulse.
Within me and throughout the vast wideness rides a frequency where everything that is within, is unified through simple contact on a massive scale, and Earth’s wellness can be felt in real-time.

We know what is as it becomes.
We cannot hear the echo that humans hear of events long past after the consequences have had consequences of their own. We –Earth Nation- know as one all events as they occur, and they leave traces in our flesh.
I am a tree for only a moment …an Earth moment; human generations.




For now, as a tree I am a kiss; an embrace of Earth.
We are gatherers of records and events that occur on the surface, where you walk pretending to be free of inheritance. Earth reveals herself through my kind.
A mutual conversation occurs right now.

To humans our nation seems slow because our system is vast. Nevertheless, humans lag. The empty space a fallen tree leaves behind is like a cataract in Earth’s eye; changing her capacity to adjust and sustain equilibrium. Ah! Equilibrium means something different to us. It is the current pace sustained as our world moves through that dynamic state between creation and obliteration. It is merely a moment that to human’s short dream seems endless, inevitable and even ordained.




This is very little information for land-walkers, this short glance into self as Tree.
However, it contains everything needed if you try to know by another sense. Tree is aware -not by senses as humans understand them, but by pulse- a primal, inescapable, instant transmission of now-ness. To humans it may seem super-human and perhaps that is an appropriate description within the limits of human knowing. But it is not extraordinary to us. It is for my Nation both instantaneous and inescapable.




Perhaps to make up for being separate, floating above the surface of your world, you are more comfortable, and perhaps feel safer, with smaller dreams to attach to. You recognize your whole world through your 5 senses, all of them remote so that you can ‘connect’ remotely, and even abstractly as you do through science; a method even more remote than your senses.

For the most part, you rebel against your primal Earth whose senses are multiplied billions that includes all that grows and rests in her. You rebel against your place among us much as your children rebel and want to grow away from you. They seek separation in their quest for autonomy; to conquer and become rulers over their own little dreams, loath to admit that their dreams are only possible because you also dreamed, and did so -no matter how inefficiently- for them too.

Like a child, a single tree does not grieve its own loss, yet all the earth knows the loss of its trees.

You earth-walkers were born as part of the long song that Tree knows, but you have become discordant, a kind of interference in the pace at which we journey together through our time. You must learn to notice what is not obvious in your small dreams that separate you from what is inseparable. You must move out of the small space between our ears and expand; re-establish your harmony in the long song of Earth.

How to Keep your Success-Navigator Ship-Shape

How do you define success? Where in your life are you burning most to succeed? Is it in your relationships? Achieving balance? Finding the perfect way to serve your community? Even if you think you know the answer, and we all think we know, it is worth asking the question over and over again. If we don’t want to ask ourselves this every day, then perhaps once a week will suffice.

The reason is simple. We tend to get distracted from our course in increments that are not obvious enough to notice at first. So asking ourselves this question regularly helps to keep our track clean and it helps to keep us current. Creating success from a vision we had a year ago -or even three months ago- can actually hemorrhage energy and enthusiasm for the journey.

So, how do you define success from here; today? Perhaps it is the right career, or greater satisfaction and reward from the one you have right now. To athletes, success can mean obtaining that gold medal, to parents’ success can mean raising children with good moral values, to doctors, success can mean saving a life and to some it can mean a job promotion or acquiring wealth. You get the idea.

Why is success often difficult to achieve? One reason is that the definition -whatever it may be- has an expiration date. We tend to define success from a perspective that is rooted in the conditions we were in when we dreamt it up. So the impetus for our vision of success, to a greater or lesser extent, is simply a reaction to those conditions. In fact, you could substitute the word Success for Solution.

Success, whilst we want it to be fun, and to present countless opportunities for fulfillment and happiness it is also, and without exception, a perceived solution to something we wish to avoid ...or protect ourselves from.

When the conditions we wish to avoid shift, even slightly, the original impetus begins to lose its relevance. How we get there, our sense of urgency around it, and perhaps even how we feel about the pursuit itself, will begin to shift also. If we continue to assume we still know what success is, (based on conditions that are no longer apply in quite the same anymore) we allow a kind of rift to develop between us and our facility to get there. The dynamics or issues that no longer apply to the present still influence us. But like a ship's navigator who continues to use the departing port as the solo point of reference rather than including calculations for where the ship is currently, your deviation from a true trojectory for success will take on tremendous significance over the course of your journey. You can bet that you will not get where you a want to… fulfillment and happiness.

Ask yourself often to assess your success/solution for changes. This practice alone will help you manage the build-up of irrelevant information that no longer applies. It will position you to more efficiently see the forces actually at work in your life at any given time. Save yourself the trouble of it getting in your way through old wounds, painful memories or a fear whose main power is the fear itself. These will only take you off course as you travel and make your task harder. They will force you to take longer, and in the end there is a very high risk that they will maneuver you somewhere that, for you, turns out to be no ‘solution’ at all.

Those who walk through life making an attempt to accomplish “success” through someone else’s standards or through the standards of one’s society will never ‘feel’ successful, and even worse, they will never be fulfilled. Hence the ones who say, “… and when I achieved everything I set out to achieve, I found I was still not happy.”

The Invisible Year

Ever have one... an invisible year?

You know, a series of weeks or months that seem to hold you to one spot, no matter how much you jump up and down on them?
It can give you the blues; especially during winter when the sun is less available for instant cheer. We know very well that we didn’t fritter our time away. We know we used it to dream and strategize, to take courses and to plan some more. As a result of our endeavors we now find that we have created things we never dreamed of only a year ago, and realize that we somehow became adept at skills we had -until quite recently- turned our little noses up at.

...And yet , it feels like our days activities remain pretty much the same, they haven't really changed but a hair. The dream-schedule we nurtured daily in accordance with the best-selling rules of “The Secret” still only lives mostly in our calendar. We see this and the wind suddenly dies away from our rose-coloured sails. We become aware that we are still trying to figure out what our next move should be, and vehemently repeating to ourselves that this endless trial-and-error phase is as essential as it is apparently immortal.

We managed to stay busy over that period, chipping away at our personal Mount Rushmore. When we were not doing that we simply stood there in shock by the sheer magnitude of rock. It was as if we are trying to carve our mark into a granite mountain using but a small chisel and some polishing paper.

Even though many of us started out looking at our mountainous dream saying something like,
“You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s no way I’m climbing that thing. I don’t even like heights. Forget about it!”
But we forgot about that. We've become so caught up in achieving that the thought of that time seems almost embarrassing now.

Of course, that was before Mother Epiphany, (accompanied by a choir, naturally) broke her long silence and clearly sang,
“Actually, you do want to climb a mountain, and here it is! Isn't it marvelous?” But a kudos-recess now seems premature.

The first thing any mentor worth their salt would say is,
“Destination is where ever you are. Anywhere else is no-where else right now.”

So, if we want to influence an outcome (or destination) that is different from where we are at present, we still can only influence it from here, AKA... where we are right now. Plan all we want, a plan is still like Government intelligence; subject to change and pending further information. The only difference is that we are a little bit older.

Scary isn’t it to think of how much time we spend just planning things we rarely do the way we had planned them, and that is if we do them at all. I wonder what that time looks like in terms of years.

These are what I call invisible years. They seem to vaporize into thin air and into a non-refundable past-tense. We hope that the changes we endure in such years are at least internal; educational, broadening of our mind, and perhaps even wisdom-making.

So what’s my point? ...Just these few:

1. Invisible years are never wasted. They grow us vertically (deeply).

2. Try not to plan and re-plan too many times before you just jump in and do.

3. Remember that you’ve actually already arrived somewhere important. Because whatever you do from here, you can do from here.

4. Embrace value. Look inside and find the value and meaning that is less easy to find externally. Write it down!

5. Invisible years are the wisdom-keepers. Find the pearl in them that others, often those closest to you, may not see. Write it down!

When tea is carefully brewed we say that it is ready and perfect to drink. And yet what has changed? it is still only leaves and water.

As we run through Life, it has a way of ‘steeping’ us, just like a unique and mysterious tea steeps in hot water. We are released from the rigidity of youth and become deeper, richer, more filled with a sort of wisdom that we could only intellectualize about in youth. Even so, when we are old we still ca not quite put our finger on what that is. We grow in both breadth and in depth. The first is recognizable to others by the distance we cover within a certain speed, while the second happens when we appear to be standing still. Depth happens, even when the stillness is quite against our inner-achiever’s will. All we need do is look for it to find that we are, in fact, achieving while merely appearing to stand still. Only you will know if this is actually true for you. And if you find that it is, then dip it in gold and stand it on the mantel along with your other achievements.

Grief Gives

It's true!
Grief gives in a way that joy cannot. It isn't better than joy but it has unequaled potential hidden away deep inside.
Now you're either nodding your head because in some weird way this makes sense to you, or you’re wondering if I fell on my head as a child.
Either way, you're right!

However, brain damage notwithstanding, grief is indeed a strange animal. I don't think I'll ever get over the dichotomy of a body, intact and suddenly lifeless. It feels confounding that one cannot simply shake it, or yell loudly to wake it.

The shocking suddenness of it, even after a long illness, is equally daunting to wrap the mind around. You then have the empty space where once they existed; the sound of their footfalls, the way they breathed, the habits that required attention in some way- every day. The dance, all the interactive-ness of their being here no longer requires us to notice. It does not wrestle for our attention and our caring is no longer required. We have been let-go. Everything is different now because one thing has changed. The nature of this change shifts everything, within and without, to an unfamiliar place where the air is far too still.

The grief which follows a loved one’s release from life is an experience that gives entirely of itself. I have a mnemonic that I use with clients in my Good-Grief program:
Gift Intended for Transformation –G.I.F.T.

The operative word, of course, is 'intended'. The intention isn’t from some exterior source. Instead, it is a deeply personal intention to accept that change is present in spite of its rude entry. It is the intention to commemorate one’s love, and one’s service to that love. It is the intention to bind our now unrequited love to something greater than regret and sorrow. Intention has a kind of re-routing effect of the natural tendency to linger too long where one wishes that life not be long without the loved one. It gently silences the need to ask “why”, at least for any longer than the ravenous seed of purpose would allow. We put our grief to work you see, we give it a job.

The idea is to be brazen, defiant if you like, in the face of pain and to challenge the grief itself to become useful. Dare it to carry you and then leave you someplace you long to be, and to do this before it takes its leave of you.

The work is in harnessing the energy of the strong emotions heralded by this change-event. Determine to groom the heart dotingly, moment by moment, willing it toward a new face for the lost love; allow the image of them to transform into the thing you might dare to say, “If I must give up _______(name), then I damn well want _______(the thing that will honor them and transform your life).

Here’s the compliment you pay your loved one; “because I loved you, I will become more than I was. I will this grief to make the rest of my life reflect your importance to anything I do from here on. I loved you; I love you still; and in my transformation you become more than a memory, you become essence and the essential key to the life I have left.” Though they left us to go on in the cold without them, they left us the one thing that can radically prepare us for a life we never dreamed of before. They left us the gift of grief that gives of itself, and asks us to find our life again, through it, softly, slowly, gently, intentionally and defiantly. Not around it, or over it; and don’t avoid it because you cannot anyway.

"I wish I knew the beauty of leaves falling. To whom are we beautiful as we go?" David Ignatow

Let’s look at this from a more personal point of view; our own.

I can’t speak for everyone, but personally I can’t imagine truer immortality than through the life of another. If, the last significant act of my life; my death, gave someone a significant leg up toward the larger meaning of their own lives, their own legacy, I believe I would be smiling throughout eternity. If it turns out that the price of Purpose is two-for-one, so be it. Two lives for one, okay. If in death my loved one uses grief to uncover, or create more purpose in their life, rather than less … well, how could I refuse? To be useful… in the end it is what we all want, isn’t it? Then let death and grief be useful too. Waste none of it. Oh, what a waste it would be to endure such a thing and gain nothing in return that caused one to say, “I did not ask for this grief, but without it I would not have _______( founded my charity, traveled to Africa, learned to fly planes, volunteered in the third world, etc) .

In launching a campaign for what we deeply want for our life (something other than wishing our dead loved one back to life), and to do it from the onset of our grief, we tap into a major power-source. This eventually transmutes our love (often still very much alive) into a kind of spring that unlocks our courage and feeds our strength. A legacy is built simultaneously for those who grieve and the ones they grieve for. Such a legacy becomes a bridge between them, that flows in both directions, over a wide and eternal Now. We cannot change death. We all die and everyone we love will die also. So now what? How will you take that on?

When I think of the times I have grieved I sense a deep weariness within me, like a residue deep in my bones. However, when grief returns I will offer it a cup of tea. Then I will proceed to flog it! Only when I am exhausted will I cry myself to sleep knowing that in the morning my work will be cut out for me …until it is done. Through practice I know that Grief is a dark and beautiful gift left to us in place of goodbye.

It's So Old That it Apparently Doesn't Get Old

Isn't it ironic that the subject of beauty and age doesn't itself suffer from 'getting old’?
My cat is old, my dogs are getting old, (my husband is older than I am though not by much) and I've got a date with 50 in late '09.

But, the roles of beauty and age, no matter what we feel about them, will have their day on our personal stage for better or for worse. Of course, up to a certain age the issue is merely beauty. Over enough time the issue blossoms into the double barrel shot-gun of beauty and age. Beauty is by its very nature a deceptive thing. I think of it as a Misty-vapor Seductress who speaks only in double en tundra so as to avoid Truth, and laughs incessantly at everyone.
But when she rest on us lightly, (you know those times when you really do feel beautiful), we fall in love with her. Clever isn’t she?

Age on the other hand is the enemy of beauty, but perhaps not for the reasons you would think. Age has her own culture, her own pace, and her own set of rules which will often undermine beauty’s power to hold her victims hostage.

Age challenges her often reluctant students to find true meaning of their lives, their true gifts, and their ultimate contribution to the young. The earlier in life we learn to follow this muse the weaker the Seductress' power over us. This is where age becomes wisdom and the mystery of this can and is often found among even the young. Perhaps Age is a final chance to become wise if we managed to resist it in our youth.

Some people have more beauty it seems, and because the world responds to it so instinctively they cannot help but learn to navigate by it. The rest of us balance our attractiveness with other values. None of us wants to roll our eyes at beautiful people. And in my experience of beautiful people they don’t want to apologize for how they look either. Why should they; no one should. Unless, of course they look like I do right now in my housecoat and slippers. Heck, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet and it’s already 1:53PM. (I love my work!)

I have my own silly battles with both beauty and age. I take them a lot less seriously than I had imagined I would before I turned 49. But I’ll tell you a pet peeve I tend to shake my head at.
It’s when younger women than I betray a palpable dread that getting older is a kind of failure, or an undesirable circumstance. It baffles me:
1. That they appear to believe that ageing is a program option that only silly old people forget to un-default.
2. That they are saying this to someone who is clearly older than they are, and so I wonder what exactly I appear to be in their mind.
3. That we women have allowed this kind of absolutely useless age obsessing in our culture.
(I don’t mean to set the shame of blame with us; however, you know it’s really up to us if things are ever going to change).

May I suggest that we remind our younger sisters, that nightmare or not, when speaking to us, who clearly have survived that horror, (and are, alas, becoming even more horrible with every ticking moment …I jest) that they reserve that attitude to share with others who are younger than them. Meeow!!! Ssssssst!
Secondly It might be good for us all to increase the number of friends who are significantly older than ourselves. I'm pretty sure this has been a factor in a surprising excitment I am experiencing about actually turning fifty.
Check out my group on Facebook: THE OFFICIAL MS NOT SO PERFECT 10 GROUP