Trees, corruption and 'all hands on deck'
Welcome and welcome back.
This article talks about trees, multiform-activism, climate crisis, corruption and “all hands on deck”. Not in that order.
I lived in Australia for 14 years and during that limited time I saw the speed at which unforeseen and unprecedented ecological events and natural disasters accelerated. Not just in Australia itself, but in many other regions of the globe simultaneously. Last month, Cyclone Gabrielle struck New Zealand's North Island which prompted a nationwide state of emergency. This took place within weeks of flooding in Auckland, when an entire summer's worth of rain fell in a single day. James Shaw, the New Zealand climate change minister, attributed the scale of the disaster to climate change, exacerbated by global temperature increases. In a speech to parliament, he stated that “There will be people who say it's too soon to talk about these things… but we are standing in it right now. This is a climate change-related event".
When we consider “climate change”, we’re way past the carrot or the stick situation. We are already in a “climate crisis”. We could jointly and proactively have delayed and maybe prevented it, but we didn’t. The timeline of the predicted issues has shrunk so much that the intensity of the disasters taking place today is way beyond what we hoped we would not see in our lifetime. Just as with the pandemic, there is no place to hide, there will be no place on earth spared by the consequences of the damage inflicted to our planet. We’re on the same boat, we’re breathing the same air, and all hands on deck are needed.
Sounds dramatic? Truthfully, the situation is critical. There is a reason why some people have dedicated their lives and voices to raise awareness about what is happening to our planet and what is ahead of us. There is a reason why they’re getting louder and taking bigger risks to be heard. These are not just activists, some are scientists, some are politicians, some are simply citizens of this planet who care. But let’s face it, not everyone cares. Anyone reading this who has also read my about page here on Substack knows my stance on Australia's government and policies. The Australian government is pretty much first in line when it comes to making every possible decision to fuel the climate crisis wildfire. It also loves twisting the rules of democracy as it sees fit. Last year in April in NSW, the Roads and Crimes Legislation Amendment Bill 2022 was rushed through by the Perrottet Government. It’s an anti-protest law which deliberately targets non-violent protesters and undermines fundamental rights, threatening everyone from school children marching for climate action to anti-war protestors with up to two years in jail and a AUD $22,000 fine. There are many countries in the world where democracy is under attack, it’s important to know that Australia is one of them. I suppose, it’s no surprise to find that there is so little regard for Nature when there is already so little regard for human rights and freedom in the first place.
So what do we do? What have the trees to do with all this?
We’re human, we can only do and process so much at a given time. We’re not meant to do it all, all at once. So first things first, we need to choose if we’re going to personally engage with this problem that concerns us all, knowing that we’re likely not going to see the fruits of our efforts. Let me offer a reframe. If someone close to us was terminally ill, we would not not show up and care for that person just because we knew that the end is close and the situation irreversible. Quite the opposite, in fact. Now imagine if each one of us gave a little bit of energy, time, money to show the same kind of care and commitment toward the Earth which is home to us all. Because right now, a happy ending isn’t on the cards. If we continue on the current trajectory, it’s our species that is going to be extinct, the Earth itself of course will survive, as it has for every previous mass extinction event. Dr. Zach Bush who is a physician specialised in internal medicine, endocrinology and hospice care, talks about the 6th Great Extinction in many podcast episodes.
Whether or not you think it’s exaggerated and the view of the few, let’s consider the American billionaire Peter Thiel, the co-founder of PayPal, who purchased a 477-acre bunker in New Zealand in preparation for a global collapse scenario; years before the pandemic. He was able to do so despite having been in New Zealand for only a few days and didn’t even need to travel to the country to obtain his citizenship. Contrary to public perception, New Zealand isn’t immune from institutionalised corruption and nor is it, the “safe haven” that the ultra rich elite believe it to be. This is an example of an influential business leader who could be part of the solution (another pair of hands on deck), but who chooses not to be. Instead, as Scott Galloway puts it, Peter Thiel and his like fit the “quitters” category.
It's up to us, individually, as responsible adults and citizens, to not do this. We can decide where to show up, how and to what extent. Our involvement will be the example to follow for someone else who too will inspire another person, etc. We don’t all have to do the same thing, we can do our own thing, as long as we do something with our heart in the right place.
This leads me to what I personally do. I am not a street protest person, even though I am French (and Australian). Currently the French are fighting a great fight against the government which is a front runner next to Australia’s government when it comes to its willingness to twist democratic rules and values. Personally, I use my writing and I also donate to a not for profit organisation dedicated to planting trees in India. It’s called Green Sakthi. The reason why I picked this one is because I have been there a few times, I have seen the different programs they run and I know the amazing woman who leads it: Nathalie. In essence, it’s close to my heart. I know it won’t turn around deforestation and stop corruption but it’s one way for me to contribute. I also have the knowledge, tools and resources to use energy healing to help in this way as well. Again, it’s not a magic wand that on its own will turn things around, but added to yours and the efforts of all the other pairs of hands, we can transform, protect this world and hopefully save ourselves. I hold this vision and the hope and so can you. As human beings living on the same planet, we have a vested interest in this.
And the trees? I kept the best for the end. Here comes the trees.
The Earth is being stripped of its tree cover. One of the consequences of the loss of trees through deforestation is the disruption of the oxygen cycle which is a vital and indispensable component to human existence. In simple terms, trees take in carbon dioxide (CO2) and trap it into tissues and soil while at the same time releasing oxygen (O2) into the atmosphere. The removal of trees significantly reduces the rate of this process, resulting in higher carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and lower natural oxygen levels. Simplified: Trees = Breathing = Life.
Have you ever wondered why some people hug trees, why some talk to them, why the Buddha attained enlightenment while meditating underneath a tree, why trees and forests are central to J. R. R. Tolkien's world of Middle-earth, why there is the Tree of Souls in the film Avatar, why the Tree of Life is at the core of the mystical Judaic tradition Kabbalah, why in any self-help book you can pick there is a chapter inviting you to connect and commune with nature? These aren’t coincidences stretching over centuries. It’s undeniable that there is much for us to learn from trees.
What follows is a beautiful passage about trees written by Hermann Hesse (July 2, 1877–August 9, 1962) taken from his 1920 collection of fragments, Wandering: Notes and Sketches. I came across it thanks to the beautiful Carrie Grossman and it’s this extract along with the current news of our world that inspired this entire article.
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them 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. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.
Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.
A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. 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.
A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live”.
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. Those are childish thoughts. . . . 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 a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.
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 an 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.
Nature is a mirror.
Nature is a scripture.
We need to treat it with respect, reverence and devotion.
Thank you for reading.
Love always.
Mahé
Additional resource: If you want to immerse yourself into some fascinating stories about trees, I suggest the book The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate by Peter Wohlleben.