Anam Cara

The Tree as Artist of Belonging

There is something so sure and dignified in a tree’s presence. The Celts had a refined sense of the worthy wonder of trees. For them many trees were sacred. Near their holy wells there was often either an ash or oak tree. The Yugoslavian poet Ivan Lalic captures the secrets of wisdom and guidance that direct the tree’s growth. In his poem “What Any Tree Can Tell You,” he follows the patience of the tree as it navigates the dark. The tree knows how to avoid the stone and knows where to seek the water:

…should it not act so,

to foster its own loss, its branches will be stunted,

its upward effort hunched….

Translated by Francis Jones

The tree rises from the dark. It circles around the “heart of darkness” from which it reaches towards the light. A tree is a perfect presence. It is somehow able to engage and integrate its own dissolution. The tree is wise in knowing how to foster its own loss. It does not become haunted by the loss nor addicted to it. The tree shelters and minds the loss. Out of this comes the quiet dignity and poise of a tree’s presence. Trees stand beautifully on the clay. They stand with dignity. A life that wishes to honour its own possibility has to learn too how to integrate the suffering of dark and bleak times into a dignity of presence. Letting go of old forms of life, a tree practises hospitality towards new forms of life. It balances the perennial energies of winter and spring within its own living bark. The tree is wise in the art of belonging. The tree teaches us how to journey. Too frequently our inner journeys have no depth. We move forward feverishly into new situations and experiences which neither nourish nor challenge us, because we have left our deeper selves behind. It is no wonder that the addiction to superficial novelty leaves us invariably empty and weary. Much of our experience is literally superficial; it slips deftly from surface to surface. It lacks rootage. The tree can reach towards the light, endure wind, rain, and storm, precisely because it is rooted. Each of its branches is ultimately anchored in a reliable depth of clay. The wisdom of the tree balances the path inwards with the pathway outwards.

When we put down our roots into the ground, we choose from life’s bounty, we need to exercise a tender caution about where the roots should go. One of the vital criteria of personal integrity is whether you belong to your own life or not. When you belong in yourself, you have poise and freedom. Even when the storm of suffering or confusion rages, it will not unhouse you. Even in the maelstrom of turbulence, some place within you will still anchor you faithfully. These inner roots will enable you later to understand and integrate the suffering that has visited. True belonging can integrate the phases of exile.