7 Life Lessons From the Trees

English: A scenic photo taken near Madison, Wi...
English: A scenic photo taken near Madison, Wisconsin of a red pine (Pinus resinosa). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I learned how to garden before I ever learned how to cultivate my own life. My introduction to gardening came with the planting of a single bald cypress sapling, its spindly form centered in an enormous mound of amended soil encircled by a protective fence.  Over the years, I perfected my techniques until I knew exactly what to do to grow a healthy and beautiful tree. Those years spent with my hands in the soil taught me many lessons that I now apply to the rest of my life.

 

Digging In

With my first tree, I had not yet found the balance between effort and effect. My three-foot sapling sat in a hole that required moving what felt like a metric ton of dense Georgia red clay. That amount of effort was not sustainable for the dozens of other trees that were eventually planted. I learned to dig wide, avoid the roots, and focus on loosening rather than removing the soil. This method still made the trees happy yet did not cause me misery in the process. Outside the garden, life should be a balance between effort and ease. Do not be afraid to work hard but do not work harder than necessary.

 

Amending the Soil

The existing soil in my one-acre plot was inhospitable to sensitive roots; its clay base would not allow air to circulate and would suffocate the life out of young trees if it was left to its own devices. However, if I amended the soil too much, the roots would never learn how to survive in the more difficult terrain once they outgrew their initial hole. I had to find the right balance between hard clay and soft soil to provide a safe environment for the saplings that would still allow them to venture out into the harsher world. Be aware of much you amend your own surroundings in your life. It’s good to be comfortable but be careful that you are not so snug that you cannot grow and expand beyond your current boundaries.

 

English: A picture of compost soil
English: A picture of compost soil (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Support Only When Needed

I have to chuckle when I see young trees corseted up in bindings and stakes like a character in Fifty Shades of Grey. This support certainly prevents the immature roots from pulling out of the soil or the narrow trunk from snapping in the wind, but it also keeps the tree weak. A tree that has never had to face the buffeting wind or driving rains unprotected will not learn how to become strong in the face of adversity. I let my trees fend for themselves in all but the harshest storms, where I would run out into the yard and throw heavy bags around their bases to act as temporary anchors. Support is wonderful when it is needed but it should only be used as much as it is necessary. It’s important to be able to accept help when you need it but also recognize when you can do it on your own. Once your roots are established, it’s time to let your trunk grow strong.

 

Use Natural Fertilizer

With my first tree, I fell sway to the advertising. I surrounded my tree with granules and mixed fertilizers into the water in the hopes of helping my tree grow faster and become healthier. The tree showed no response, but my wallet sure did.  Once I switched to natural compost, the trees and my wallet thrived. I look at most fertilizers like processed foods – you pay a premium for a product when the natural form is often cheaper and better. In fertilizer as with food, there is often an inverse relationship between advertising dollars and the healthfulness of a product. Nourish your body with natural foods and allow them to fertilize your health and vitality. Your vibrant body can then become the advertising.

 

Water Deeply

I made the classic beginner’s mistake – I watered my new plantings frequently, but briefly, scattering drops of water that never fully penetrated the surface of the soil. Although the trees appeared to be sitting in moist soil, the needed water never made it to their parched roots. I learned that the best way to water the roots is to leave the hose dripping near the trunk for hours. Proper watering cannot be rushed. I am sometimes guilty of shallow watering in life as well. I may find myself in a yoga class but my mind is elsewhere. I might be at a romantic dinner while my brain is planning for work. Or, in my biggest struggle, I rush through meditation without allowing the peace to soak in. In your life, fully commit to what you choose to do so that you can gain the full benefits.

 

Let the Light In

Pruning hurts. I was scared to make those first cuts, very aware that they were permanent. I was afraid I would ruin my tree, afraid that it would never be the same. The fear was unfounded. Although the tree looked alien at first, its white scars advertising the new cuts, I soon grew used to its new appearance. The removal of some of the unneeded branches allowed light to permeate the canopy which before had cast darkness on all around it. New plants were able to dance in the sun that now filtered through the tree. I faced the most painful pruning of all in life – the removal of a husband. Like with my trees, it took time to adapt and adjust to the new reality, but now there is light beneath the canopy. Sometimes we have to prune back some branches in our lives to let the sun in.

 

Plant Companions

My first tree was a loner for a season, standing tall in a sea of grass. Over the next few years, I planted companions, shrubs and perennials that kept the sapling company and enhanced its beauty. A wonderful symbiosis began to occur; the tree provided needed shelter from the hot Georgia sun and the companions held in the moisture around the base of the tree. In your life, choose companions that enhance your beauty and find ways to improve their lives as well. An abundant life is always more glorious than a single tree standing alone.

Alaska forest - trees
Alaska forest – trees (Photo credit: blmiers2)

Going With the Flow: SUP Yoga

The 10 foot long paddleboards lay side by side in the sun along the sandy shore like fiberglass coated seals.  Soft waves chased each other across the lake, encouraged by the welcome morning breeze.  It was early enough that the herons still outnumbered the speedboats and the sun was just erasing away any hint of the nighttime chill.

I slipped my hand into the groove cut into the center of the board and hoisted it off the sand and into in the water.  I carefully placed my knees on either side of the handle, the cutaway serving as a constant visual reminder of center.  Stray too far and you fall in. After finding my balance, I carefully placed one foot and then the other on the board, staying in a cautious crouch until I trusted the board.  Until I trusted myself.

Learning to paddle

I pushed up to standing, taking the paddle with me.  After a few rough rows, as I learned how to twist and shift to keep the board steady; I was off. The board traveled lightly upon the water, the hollow thud of the waves hitting the underside of the board.  Our small group made our way up a protected inlet where the current was not so strong and the boats not as numerous.

off to yoga class

We gathered in a group, our boards constantly shifting on the water as our minds shifted into practice.  We were constantly reminded that these were not well-behaved yoga mats, sitting at right angles to a wall, rather they were dynamic surfaces carried by the whims of the winds and the currents. Common poses became uncommon when faced with the limitations and challenges of the board and the water.  We each were ever mindful of our center.  The water became our teacher, each little misalignment gently acknowledged with a tip of the board.  Or, if the subtle hint went unrecognized, a fall into the depths.

attempting tree in the wake of a passing boat

There is no illusion of control on the water.  You have only two choices: give in or give up.  I gave in, sinking deeper into the board.

Pressing into down dog, the board began to rock with waves sent from a passing boat.  Be with it.  You can’t fight the waves.  “Accept them and move with them,” was the lesson spoken by the water.  I listened, giving in to the sway.

a vinyasa

I turned over, pressing into wheel, gaining a new perspective on the ripening morning.  I felt the strength in my limbs anchored equally to the board as it danced lightly on the surface, creating a balance of contrast.  Feeling emboldened by the sun and lightened by the sense of playfulness, I moved into tripod, a pose which eludes me on the mat.  Every muscle and every thought focused solely on the moment.

wheel – a whole new perspective of the lake!

After lying in repose for several minutes, I pushed myslef back up to a seated position, so comfortable in my balance that I moved with ease.  Bringing hands to heart center,

Namaste.

As I walked back up the beach, I could feel the lessons of the morning practice settle in and I chose to carry them with me.

Update:  The following day, I was able to do my first full headstand ever! I love the fact that I learned the basics of the pose on the water:)

The group I practiced with:

Atlanta SUP Yoga
Worldwide organization dedicated to SUP yoga:

NamasteSUP

Why We Should Be Like Water & Live With Ease

It is so easy to toughen under stress, to tense and tighten to carry the load.  Perhaps it is time to learn from the water around us.  Water is a most powerful force, able to carve mountains into great valleys, move enormous loads, and traverse even the most inhospitable terrain.  Water is able to this without rigidity, without tension.  It flows around obstacles, slowly wearing them away rather than getting stuck behind the barrier.  Let your inner ice thaw, relax and flow, and you may find the journey to be an easier one.

Why We Should Be Like Water & Live With Ease.

The Water Is Wide