It is by letting myself be invaded by this reflection that I walk in her company into the Pinatelle forest, more precisely on the path of the beech (hêtre in french, while l’être is the being). With a prior intention: that of feeling authorised, and even more so, invited. In an extreme openness to the sensitive world.
In "The Hidden Life of Trees", Peter Wolleben examines the world of beech trees and shares his feelings about the mutual help that beech trees can provide: "A forest has no interest in losing its weakest individuals. It would only gain empty spaces and destabilize the fragile balance between half-dark and high humidity of the air that characterizes its microclimate."
First stop to contemplate, at a respectable distance, this tree proudly bloomed... which seems to be splitting. What are we observing? What do we feel? Audrey invites me to feel the root network beneath the ground, which may even be unfolding beneath our feet, this "wood wide web" invisible to our eyes.
We continue to observe a little further on a tree that seems to stray on the way, then in the middle of the beech trees, a few pines that seem almost choked. We ask ourselves: who was there at the beginning, who colonized these spaces? We listen and more than just answers, what makes sense is the questioning of the authorization to be that one grants (or not) to the other. Has the forest grown in conflict? If it is easy to observe in the animal kingdom (and the stag belling is to attest), one has more difficulty imagining the notion of violence, choking, and rejection in the heart of the vegetable kingdom. And yet, are we not, beyond the kingdoms (including mineral kingdoms, dare I add) all imbued with qualities common to the sensitive world? Are we not driven by feelings, emotions? Where does the sensitive stop? A question of awareness? This is how what we feel and share.
While it makes sense for both of us that if we have limited the violence in speed, the effect of surprise and immediacy, as it appears in the human kingdom; nature is all slowness, unfolding in the open game of cards. Nevertheless, the violence of the growing population of beech-born infants in the pine forest a little further on, bodes well for the power game of the next centuries.
And it's with these emotions that we come out of the forest, backwards... like when we leave a church. Would the forest be the cathedrals of our new era? How do you feel?
j’ai souvent ressenti la même sérénité dans une église ou dans une forêt…ou lors d’une méditation. Mais la forêt à cela de particulier qu’elle est à ciel ouvert et que les senteurs qu’elle diffuse sont aussi un baume pour le corps. Pour moi, elle est le lieu de COmmunion des Cocréateurs par excellence.
Isabelle
Merci pour ton partage, Isabelle ! La pleine conscience ne participe-t-elle pas du sens même de la Vie, pour retrouver ce rapport sacré au monde à travers l’énergie invisible ?