In 2018, I heard the trees speak. They told me to go on a journey to visit 10 trees around the world, to listen and learn from their wisdom. I listened to the call of the trees. I quit my job in New York. I travelled to 9 trees around the world, from the birch to the banyan, from the bodhi to the baruzeiro. I didn’t make it to my 10th tree, the baobab, because of the pandemic. But I found my 10th tree, the beech tree, in the town in the UK where I moved to for six months before the lockdowns began, the town which has now become my home. (Not all of the trees begin with b, by the way, there is the eucalyptus, the olive, oak, the giant sequoia, and the collective of trees in the Amazon basin in Ecuador.)
I am now 85% through a first draft of the book of the journey. I have an agent, but I haven’t managed to find a publisher.
I know the publishing industry is hard. I know it is hard to break in with your first book. But it has made me doubt what I am writing and if it is all worthwhile, if I should continue, what I should do with the 100,000 plus words that I have written.
The other day, I was feeling at a low point. I stood in my kitchen and asked myself, ‘What would trees say?’ And I got this clear, direct message, as clear as when I first heard the call of the trees in my office in New York. ‘Just get the words there. Share what the trees have told you. It’s not about you. It’s about the collective.’
‘It’s not about me.’ This is what I heard the banyan tree say to me in India.
Don’t look at me. It’s not about me.
Look at the life that is all around me. The yellow butterfly on the blue flower. The lizard on the red stem of the rosella plant, with its red flowers and edible petals. The herb with the pungent leaves, its smell released, mint-like, as you sat down on my leaves. The birds. Oh my birds. It makes my heart happy to hear their chatter, their different calls and whistles and songs, their tweeting and chirruping. The calls of longing, the songs of joy. The hum of the bees.
I am grateful that you pay attention to me. But please also pay attention to those around me. I’m here for them.
I stand and look up at the interlacing canopy of leaves. The tree had said of itself, “It’s not about me.” I think of seva, of selfless service. Selfless means without the self. But then maybe I can be more rather than less in selfless service. Whatever I is. Whoever I is. Who am I?
I want to show the beauty of the world and help to preserve it. I want to be in service to that.
Of course, I still want to get the book out there. Maybe this Substack will help me to find a publisher. Maybe it will prove that there is a collective of people who want to read the book. I nearly wrote ‘my book’. It’s not my book. It’s the book of the trees. Once, ten years ago, I had a clear vision that I wanted to use my voice to be a voice for nature. And that’s still what I want to do now.
So this is what this Substack is about. I will be a voice for nature. I will write about trees. I will write about how others are writing about trees and representing them in culture. I will keep asking the question ‘What would the trees say?’ and reporting back on the answer. And I hope that this might encourage you to ask this question in your own life, and I would love to hear anything that you might have to share on this. Because what we need now more than ever is a sharing of our collective wisdom, like the trees share their wisdom and look after each through their network.
My aim is to post once a week. All subscriptions are free. I hope you would like to be part of the forest.
The beech tree, my 10th tree.
Ahh, how glad I am to read these words. I’ve wondered similar things, along the Saltwater journey. I’m looking forward to following along with your words here, Olivia. Perhaps it’s time for another Podcast episode :)
Beautifully written - and what a fascinating project. I’m looking forward to following and reading. I started on Substack on January and have enjoyed the discipline of a weekly piece. It serves mainly as a diary that may form a writing project later. In the meantime, I’m working on a project focused on the South Downs, which sounds like it may be your part of the world. Very much looking forward to reading more of your work.