Celebrating Uniqueness - Hermann Hesse

I revere trees when they live in tribes and families, in forests
and groves.  And even more I revere them when they stand alone.
They are like lonely persons.  In their highest boughs the world
rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they don't lose themselves there,
they struggle with all the force of their lives for only one thing:
to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their
own form, to represent themselves.

A tree says:  The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took
with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique
the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar
on my bark.  I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my
smallest special detail.

Hermann Hesse
Notes and Sketches

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering
Tree Refection in pond color inverted..

~

NOTE: For my Follow.it followers
there was a typo error
in the 4th line down which should
have read:
"but they don't lose themselves there..."
I was unable to edit it on your follow.it copy.
Sorry about that :)

 

Stand Still - David Wagoner

Stand still.
The trees ahead and the bushes beside you Are not lost.
Wherever you are is called Here.

And you must treat it as a powerful stranger.
Must ask permission to to know it and be known.
The forest breathes.  Listen.  It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost.  Stand still.
The forest knows Where you are.
You must let if find you.

David Wagoner
original title: "Lost"

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Lost and Found - David Wagoner

Stand still.
The trees ahead and bushes beside you are not lost.
Wherever you are is called Here, and you must treat
it as a powerful stranger, must ask permission to know it
and be known.

The forest breathes.  Listen.  It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or bush does is lost on you,
you are surely lost.

Stand still.
The forest knows where you are.
You must let it find you.

David Wagoner
Original title: "Lost"

1999

~

Photo - Mt. Rainier Forest
Fred LaMotte

 

Learning From Trees - Grace Butcher

If we could,
like the trees,
practice dying,
do it every year
just as something we do -
like going on vacation
or celebrating birthdays,
it would become
as easy a part of us
as our hair or clothing.

Someone would show us how
to lie down and fade away
as if in deepest meditation,
and we would learn
about the fine dark emptiness,
both knowing it and not knowing it,
and coming back would be irrelevant.

Whatever it is the trees know
when they stand undone,
surprisingly intricate,
we need to know also
so we can allow
that last thing
to happen to us
as if it were only
any ordinary thing.

Grace Butcher

with thanks to Being Silently Drawn

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Among The Trees - Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, "It's simple", they say,
"and you too have come into the world to do this,
to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine."

Mary Oliver

via - The Beauty We Love

~
Photo - Mystic Meandering

Be What You Are - Hermann Hesse

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer,
then a tree has something to say to us:
Be still!  Be still!  Look at me!  Life is not easy,
life is not difficult.  Home is neither here nor there.
Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees
rustling in the wind at evening.  If one listens to them
silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel,
its meaning.  It is not so much a matter of escaping
from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so.
It is a longing for home, for new metaphors for life.
It leads home.  Every path leads homeward, every step
is birth, every step is death...

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy
before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts,
long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives
than ours.  They are wiser than we are, as long as we do
not listen to them.  But when we have learned how to
listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the
childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve incomparable
joy.  Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer
wants to be a tree.  He wants to be nothing except what
he is.  That is home.  That is happiness...

Hermann Hesse

from: Trees: Reflections and Poems

via - The Beauty We Love

~

To put it simply, let that mysterious grace move in your
spirit as it will and follow wherever it leads you.  Let it
be the active doer and you the passive receiver.  Do not
meddle with it, but let it be...  Your part is to be as wood
to a carpenter or a home to a dweller.  Remain blind
during this time cutting away all desire to know, for
knowledge is a hindrance here.  Be content to feel this
mysterious grace sweetly awaken in the depths of your
spirit.  Forget everything...

The Cloud of Unknowing

Listen to Trees - Hermann Hesse

Trees are sanctuaries.  Whoever knows how to speak to them,
whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.
They do no preach learning and precepts, they preach
undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

[.....]

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer,
then a tree has something to say to us: Be still!  Be still!  Look
at me!  Life is not easy, life is not difficult.  These are childish
thoughts.... Home is neither here no there.  Home is within you,
or home is nowhere at all.

If one listens to them silently for a long time, it reveals its kernel,
its meaning.  It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's
suffering, though it may seem to be so.  It is a longing for home....,
for new metaphors for life.  It leads home.  Every path leads
homeward, every step is birth, every step is death...

When we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and
the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve
an incomparable joy.  Whoever has learned to listen to trees no
longer wants to be a tree.  He wants to be nothing except what he is.
That is home.  That is happiness.

Hermann Hesse
Trees: Reflections and Poems

via: Love Is A Place