There is no problem that cannot be solved by sitting down under a shade tree to tell a story to your children, your family, or your friends. The Earth pauses to listen when the heart speaks from one generation to another, passing down the vision of a people through time—telling its truth, its hopes, and its dreams.
You believe that time passes on its own, that it rushes onward, drawing you forward in its wake. But time is moved by story. It becomes real in the telling. There is the time it takes to tell a tale, but the time itself is the telling.
You have forgotten your own story and the story of your people. You feel yourself caught in the trials and troubles of a world in turmoil, a story that feels out of scale with your lives because it is so much bigger and so relentlessly driven by forces that no one can control. But you are seeing it the wrong way around. It is your story that moves the world. And it always moves it from within.
Under a shade tree the Buddha found wisdom, and Job found respite from the heat of the day. Countless generations have found love and belonging. Everything that you need for life—to feed you, to guide you, to give you solace, to steady you, is to be found beneath that tree.
The Tree of Life they call it, but the Tree of Life is any tree and every tree. Trees draw forth the blessings of the Earth. They express its wisdom and proclaim its truth. Every story begins beneath a tree. Trees are the sentinels of time.
[art: Peter Wilke from a traditional icon]