Forest
Sun cannot kill well established roots, but from above ground the end would seem to be near. There is a difference between what happens to fallow land which has been clear cut for years and the interactions and relationships that exist in an old growth forest.
Brian Banks compared the spiritual gatherings in Columbus to a nascent forest. He compared the gatherings in New Orleans to old growth.
Take a space that has been mowed over for years and let it be. In the beginning there is competition among the grasses. Different layers begin to form. Grasses to bushes to trees to vines. Everything that grows reaches for the light. There is excitement in this.
If we could compare these plants to people, give them more than just sentience, give them egos and the need to be something, to be somewhere other than the spot where they grow, it would seem that everything is working separate from everything else. Here and there, small relationships would develop. Various spots might look different from other spots. This might describe the beginning of any spiritual movement where there is no established leader.
In this human world, there are some that grow taller, and these then help to shade those which might otherwise die. The difference between the human and plant world is that the plant does not consider herself to be better than the ones she helps to shade. The tall plant does not take credit for being tall. The tall plant just is because eventually there will be taller plants and this tall plant will die and become part of the earth and will feed new beginnings.
We, too, die, become part of the earth, and feed new beginnings. We have, however, most of us, forgotten this. We strive for the feelings of immortality, and with immortality comes the false belief in certainty and control. The wind is only wind, if you know what I mean. Actually, I’m not sure that I even know what I mean.
If a newly forming forest might be compared to control, an old growth forest contains within it an outpouring of love. You see and feel this walking through. The vibrations that emanate from the tallest of trees. The way the light seems to be its own living organism, snaking through different spots of green and brown. There is a peace that feels like protection. This peace could be God.
In these movements we are able to see this same thing. We get to witness those who are broken become healed. Sometimes we witness those who are broken struggle to find a space of light. We try to guide them toward the light, let them know that in this forest there is enough light for everybody.
Maybe the limiting beliefs of humans is what accounts for the difficulty of accepting the deaths of those who never find the light. What if something greater is at work? What if there is something beyond what we understand, something which makes use of every plant and every human, living or dead.
There are cells within me that were within my father, cells within me that were within a six foot six tattooed young man named Geronimo.
Some days are made for consideration and some days made just to sit in the silence and majesty of all of this, to live in the forest without question.
