The life of the world, innate in everything, is clearly propagated into plants and trees, like the body-hair and tresses of its body.  -Marsilio Ficino

We can say that the earth has a vegetative soul.  -Leonardo da Vinci

Promise me that when I die, I shall be buried near–as near as they can make my grave–to the tree
we saw today. (Smike)  From Nicholas Nickleby  -Charles Dickens

I’ve always been comforted by trees—whether I find them in a forest, in a park, in a yard, or in a plot of earth along a concrete street.

And although I love all trees, there is one particular tree in my life that lives in a park near where I moved a couple of years ago. This tree has a twisted shape—the two parts of her go in different directions, yet are joined together.  Come to think of it, I often feel that I’m moving in two directions too.

It seems a miracle she’s alive, because the bottom part of her trunk appears to be exposed and not buried very deeply in the earth.  I know this is an illusion, however, and that it’s only from my limited perspective that she looks like she’s about to topple over.  I’m sure she’s been standing where she is for a very long time.

Because of her shape, I can simultaneously press my heart against her and lay my arms out to either side. I drape myself around her and I’m at peace.  She offers unconditional love.  Sometimes when I’m with her, I contemplate my current dilemmas and then listen; she always has a ready answer.  Perhaps I find in her a kindred spirit.

Our ancestors on this planet had a powerful, instinctual understanding of nature.  Their lives were closely dependent on rivers, animals, trees, oceans, and forests.  We have never stopped being dependent on nature–we are nature too–but we have learned to dominate it more often often than listen to it.  Still, then as now, all of life on earth is interrelated.

During the Renaissance, when artists and philosophers looked back to ancient thought, there was a renewed appreciation of the divinity of nature.  Philosophers said that everything in the universe—rocks, trees, animals, humans, planets and stars—was infused with a common, divine essence, the Soul of the World.

Of course the belief in the holiness of the world, and in trees in particular, can be found in many theologies and mythologies. Early Native Americans, for instance, spoke of the earth as a living body, endowed with a kind of innate wisdom.  They believed that certain trees would speak to them when the wind blew through the limbs. And in ancient Greece, at the shrine of Dodona, priestesses and priests interpreted the rustling of the oak leaves to decide what actions they should take. The Buddha was awakened while sitting in meditation under a tree.

In any case, it’s obvious that trees are remarkable beings. They are amazingly patient and put up with just about anything: garbage strewn around their roots, plastic bags hanging from their branches, loud traffic whizzing past.  Trees are beautiful to look at, quiet, calm, patient, and full of dignity.   And think of just some of the services they provide.  The breath of trees cleans, humidifies, and cools the atmosphere.  Trees retain CO2, as well as other chemicals and pollutants, and release oxygen. They offer homes to many species.  I think they deserve to be hugged—and it feels so good to hold onto them.