Imagine Being a Plant!

 As humans, we naturally view the world through the eyes of our own species, and of our culture. As our species has developed, we've become more distanced from the other living things around us so that sometimes our worldview is totally focused on the doings of other people, the natural world viewed a bit like furniture, something in the background but not very important. I imagine this is a tendency with other animals too. Wolves may not think much about the interrelationships among their neighbors in the forest. Chipmunks' lives are probably focused mostly on their secure homes and navigating the dangers outside as they look for food. But it can be mind-blowing to let yourself imagine being some other species, even plants. As I was sitting quietly in Friends Meeting the other day, a little restless and unfocused, I began to look out the window at a tree limb blowing in the wind. Just a limb, covered in leaves, attached to a tall trunk out of my view. And I began to imagine the rest of that unseen tree, the roots deep in the ground, the many branches radiating from the trunk, the flexibility of those branches as the wind blew through. I also looked around me in the meetinghouse. Wood was everywhere: benches of beautiful wood, the floor of wood, the window and door frames of wood too. Long ago we learned that wood from dead trees was very useful! 

As I sat there on the wooden bench, I started thinking about the life of a tree. In so many ways, it is different than ours. For instance, if a limb is cut off, it just grows another one! How convenient that would be! A tree can also live through extremes of weather. Its makeup is strong enough to get through hot days like today in Iowa, and through sub-zero nights in winter. It has deep branching roots that hold it stable, suck up water and nutrients, and even communicate underground with other life forms. Its fruits (potential offspring) are eaten or carried away and buried, thus spreading new trees far and wide. Beautiful big trees line the roads here in Iowa City, and follow the river and creek banks. We enjoy their shade. We appreciate their leafy presence in our landscapes. But less often do we take the time to remember that they are living beings, with senses and lives of their own. Since the 1970's, after a number of ground breaking experiments, we finally even know that they communicate with other plants, and that they respond to humans. I'll never forget the lie detector test on house plants that proved that they knew when their owner started for home! Perhaps they talk to us in their own language, though most of us are not very good at interpreting  it.

One of the most revitalizing things I can do is sit quietly somewhere out in a natural setting: a forest, a grassy hilltop, or a garden. It's important to get away from my phone and other distractions. With the wide sky above and the plant-covered ground around me, I can slip into my place as just another living neighbor in the wide spectrum of everything. I can slow down and quietly let the sounds, smells and sights resonate. Lately I've run into the term "Forest Bathing" and realize that this is just what I love to do. Evidently the Japanese Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries coined the term back in 1982 (shinrin-yoku, interpreted as forest bathing). They were encouraging people to regularly go to a natural landscape and take time to live in the present moment, immersed in nature. Since then, this term and practice has gained popularity in other countries as well.  Quietly sitting or walking in natural settings has been proven to lower blood pressure, reduce harmful hormones, and slow the heart. In our current fast-paced cultures, forest bathing is a great antidote for the stress we often feel.

One article describing forest bathing mentioned that sometimes we can have "Awe Moments" if we're able to really tune into our environment. This resonated with me, for I can remember many awe moments out in nature. It is as if suddenly there are no barriers between us, the lives around me, and I feel deeply the amazing life of another living thing. For me, it is usually plants that give me this experience. But it could equally be an animal or an insect. It is mind-blowing to see the incredible diversity of life all around us here on earth. And though human impact and climate change is threatening our future here, I remind myself every day to savor and appreciate what we still have. 

Once we're in a natural setting, we automatically begin to breathe deeper. Our senses wake up. We notice aromas, our eyes take in colors and shapes, our ears pick up bird song and our skin feels the whoosh of wind. We slow down.  One of the pieces our ukelele group plays here at Prairie Hill is Simon and Garfunkle's "Feelin' Groovy". It begins: "Slow down, you move too fast" and with a catchy tune and steady rhythm, it goes on to describe how good it feels to walk slowly down a street, noticing and acknowledging everything. I highly recommend looking up the words and singing it to yourself as you go about your day!