Why and How to Connect with a Tree

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing which stands in the way… As a man is, so he sees.” -William Blake

I never knew an aspen grove until I came to the Mountain West. I never knew the tall white spine, the silvery crackle of bark, the leaves like paper chimes celebrating. I was 19 years old when I first traveled to the Rocky Mountains. I was astonished by the craggy peaks, cloud grazing heights and towering forests. But before I made the journey west, I decided to get a tattoo. My first tattoo.

Even at that age, I understood the significance of my quest. My best friend Michele and I were traversing the continental U.S. as young adults alone in the greater world for the first time without supervision. We were leaving home, just as mythologist Joseph Campbell’s hero must do. We were adventuring to see America, to see the Smoky Mountains, the red mesas of Utah, the wide-open spaces of the western deserts, the Pacific Coast Highway. We were called.

We were young, so young, and as much as we thought we were experienced, we had so much ahead of us to be known. Perhaps subconsciously, we understood we were crossing this threshold into adulthood with this one road trip, unplanned, unfettered, and free. A tattoo was a commemoration of who we were and who we would become. Michele’s brother recently opened a tattoo parlor, so we went to him, naively perhaps because he was inexperienced and specialized in skulls, but optimistically.

I designed my own tattoo. I had been drawing a lot in pen and ink at the time. My design was a tree. A woman tree to be specific. That was the first image I wanted etched on my body for the rest of my life. At 19, the rest of your life doesn’t mean much, but now, I’m glad I got that tattoo. Granted, her brother did a terrible job. The line work was uneven. The face in the tree was a squashed together blob. And the three coverups I’ve gotten in the last 30 years to try to improve it, didn’t help much. But I never regretted it. Because it’s not the art, but the meaning I cared about. I knew that I had a dryad’s soul, that I connected to the divine feminine, to nature spirits and the more-than-human world in a deep way I could not express in words, only with permanent ink.

Connecting with trees comes easily to me. I’m a tree hugger, what can I say? We get a bad rep, but I think that’s because people just don’t get it. Scientifically, trees emanate phytoncides to protect themselves from parasites and these natural tree chemicals have been proven to have a positive effect on humans as well, downregulating our nervous system and preventing disease. It makes sense since we evolved with the trees until modern times. But I also follow the old belief that trees “balance your chakras,” and I stand by that. Give me a two-minute tree hug and I will feel ten times better.

In the imaginal realm of archetypes and imagination, trees hold significant meaning across many cultures. Buddha reached enlightenment under the Bodhi tree, and it is therefore symbolic of enlightenment. In the bible, the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil represents wisdom or awakening, and the Tree of Life represents immortality. Celts believed that trees were their ancestors and the gatekeepers to the Celtic Otherworld, so they were held as sacred. The baobab is revered in Africa and Madagascar as a sacred and mystical tree, in part because they provide fruit even in harsh climates and because their branches look like roots reaching to the sky. In ancient Egypt, many deities were associated with trees. In Norse mythology, the Yggdrasil or the World Tree, is an ash tree that encompasses all the worlds, including the world of humans and the world of the gods in its branches and roots.

This Sunday evening begins the Jewish holiday of Tu BiShvat, which literally translates to the 15th day of the Hebrew month of Shevat. Tu BiShvat is one of Judaism’s agricultural holidays and is the New Year for the Trees, also known as the Jewish Earth Day. Because it is mid-winter and much of the annual rain has fallen in Israel, the waterlogged soil presents a good opportunity to plant trees.

The medieval Kabbalists, or Jewish mystics, infused Tu BiShvat with a more spiritual significance. They believed that since fruits held in them the spark of divine creation (the seeds to grow a tree), as they believed that humans held in them the spark of the divine, then to eat certain fruits was a way of releasing these divine sparks into the world.

Trees encompass so much. They are portals, healers, wise ancestors, and immortality-gifting gods. Imagine what you can discover, spending time with a tree.

How to Connect with a tree:

• Allow yourself to be drawn to a tree for any reason; it’s location, appearance, or a vibe you get. Don’t overthink it.
• Set the intention to form a connection to the tree.
• Sit under it for a while (20-30 minutes) even better if you’re touching. Trees make great leaning posts. Or lay down under the tree and stare at its crown.
• Breathe with your tree. When you inhale oxygen, the tree is exhaling oxygen. When you exhale carbon dioxide, the tree in inhaling the same carbon dioxide.
• Hug that tree! Wrap your arms around it (Watch for ants, sap and protrusions).
• Talk to your tree. It might answer you.
• Be sure to thank the tree when you are done.
• In the spirit of reciprocity, offer the tree a gift such as a song, a strand of your hair or a beautiful stone.

Discover your archetype for how you personally connect with the natural world