I’m sitting down to write today and there are three things that come to mind to write about. I dillied and dallied about which to write about. And have come to conclusion that I can write about all three, see what connections emerge, and maybe you can tell me which one or ones you would like to hear more about. Because, as it happens, they each touch on different aspects of what I am interested in writing about in my book - and it would be great to hear to what resonates. And hat-tip to Becky Barnes at The Uplift who combines a range of different subjects elegantly in her Substack, and who got me thinking that maybe variety is the spice of life. So, here goes.
Co-creating with nature
This was the title of a talk that I attended at the Barbican this week. This was the first in their Encounters series, and was a conversation between David Zilber and Heather Barnett. David Zilber was in charge of the fermentation lab at the restaurant Noma in Copenhagen. Heather Barnett is an artist who works with slime mould and ant colonies. Both of them spoke about how their process is to essentially create the conditions, put the organism in - whether slime mould or microbes - and see what happens. It is the art of experimentation - and not being in control.
This type of approach is appealing to me. It is the type of approach that is needed for listening to trees. It also reminded me of the work of Joanna Macy, who has written about ‘co-arising’. In the book, I write:
Listening is the foundation of co-creation. And not only of co-creation, but of co-arising. Joanna Macy has written, “What the Buddha woke up to under the bodhi tree was paticca samuppada: the dependent co-arising of all phenomena, in which you cannot isolate a separate, continuous self.”
Trees are an example of co-arising, being part of a greater whole, dependent on a connected network. As indeed are we, only we are not awake to it. We are not awake to the trillions of microbes that live in us - apparently 39 trillion microbes and bacteria call us home. And which we need to be healthy - hence the importance of fermented foods in our diet.
Naming
I’ve been thinking about the importance of naming this week. I’m taking part in a writing project where I am going to be writing about harebells, a lovely, delicate blue wildflower shaped like a bell. One of the folk names for it is witches’ thimble. Who first named it witches’ thimble and how did that become a name?
I read once an Emergence magazine article which suggested that one way to connect with trees was to observe them and give them names. I first practiced this in New York. I remember looking up at the branches of one tree and it seemed to me like they were spinning round. I called it The Roundabout Tree. When I went back the next day, I found myself spinning around underneath it, and videoing the spinning of the branches with my phone.
I practiced this naming during my time in Brazil on my 10 trees journey. Here is my description of naming two trees.
1) Angico
The angico has a rough bark at the base, smooth trunk higher up, with feathery leaves. I’m struck by the leaves, which shimmer in the wind, refracting the morning sun, and the toughness of the base of the trunk. The trunk has red undertones, with grey peaks, ants hurrying up and down the crevasses. I think of the tree as someone who portrays themselves as having a tough exterior but in fact they are approachable and want to add to beauty to the world. I call it the feather tree. Its medicine is to lighten the soul. Now I see it, I see it all across the property.
2) Mamoeiro
The mamoeiro tree is by the entrance to the property. It has a smooth light brown straight trunk, with leaves radiating from the top. The bulbous fruit hang, full, ripening in the sun. I am struck by the markings on the trunk of the tree. There are scars all the way up from the branches that have been shed as it has grown. Shadows of butterflies imprinted. Scars that mark growth, transformation. And the shape of lips, calling us to speak out to make that transformation happen. The butterfly calling tree.
This practice could be described as co-creating with tree, seeing what arises.
Systems change
On Friday, I went to hear Henry Dimbleby speak at the Charleston Festival. He was speaking about his book, Ravenous, and was on stage with his wife, Jemima Lewis, who co-wrote the book with him.
The book is about the urgent changes that are needed in the food system, both for our health and for the health of the planet. He spoke about how agriculture is the second largest emitter of carbon emissions, after fossil fuels. And how it is the primary cause of deforestation, drought, freshwater pollution and the depletion of aquatic wildlife.
So if we care about any of these things, including trees, then we need to be paying attention to what we eat. According to a Food and Agriculture Organisation study, 90% of deforestation comes from agricultural expansion - and in South America, almost three-quarters of deforestation is due to livestock grazing. And deforestation not only is bad for the trees and biodiversity, it is bad for the climate. Deforestation contributes up to 11% of global GHG emissions annually. And it removes trees which could have sequestered carbon. And climate change is increasingly affecting food production, with crops failing due to drought, extreme heat and flooding.
We need systems change of our food industry - and what we eat. But there is enough to write a book on this subject, as Henry Dimbleby and Jemima Lewis have done.
At the end of the talk, Henry Dimbleby invited the audience to identify one action that they could take to influence their local food system - whether asking a school about their school meals, or donating to a local food bank (although he acknowledged that food banks weren’t the answer in themselves but a symptom of the greater systems change that is required). Supporting local growers who use regenerative and organic practices is one action that we can take. And thinking about the impact that our food choices have on trees - from coffee to palm oil to meat - and how we could make choices which are better for the trees. And what’s better for the trees is better for us. After all, we are not a separate self, but part of a co-arising.
Let me know in the comments whether 1, 2 or 3 sparked the most interest for you!
Topic no 1 sparked the most interest in me and I would love to hear you write more about this! Last week when I was in the depth of my flu misery I at one stage decided to start talking to the germs in my body, requesting them to kindly relieve me from the pain I was feeling and indeed suddenly something in me shifted and I felt lighter. The idea of co-creating with nature is SO powerful and SO necessary, because we need to co-create an existence on this planet that works for ALL sentient beings on it. I'm also intrigued by how much faster and more efficiently we could find solutions to our many problems if we got our advice from the natural kingdom who of course is wise beyond our years....keep writing <3