Message From the Trees by Susan Meeker-Lowry
Thursday, October 1st 2009 @ 10:23 AM
This took place around 1984. I had been publishing my newsletter Catalyst for a couple of years and was presenting a workshop on economic alternatives and social investing at Omega in Rhinebeck, NY. Earlier in the evening I had participated in an impromptu workshop focusing on acting on behalf of Earth. At the end, the facilitator brought out a large ball painted to look like Earth. Before passing it around the circle, he made a promise to the Earth, and we each did the same. Rather than thinking about what I would say when it was my turn, I listened to each person’s promise and had no idea what I would say when the ball came to me. As it was placed in my waiting hands these are the words that came: “I will listen to the Earth, write what she tells me, and share it with others.” And it just felt right.
Later that evening, I lay in bed alone in my tiny cabin reading before going to sleep. The large windows were wide open letting in a gentle breeze, but all was quiet. Then as I lay there I began to hear soft, whispering voices, like women talking quietly on their way back to their own cabins. The harder I tried to make out the words, the louder the talking became, but I knew it wasn’t any language I had ever heard, in this lifetime anyway. Then the voices quieted, and all I could hear were sounds of the tiny night creatures. I wanted the voices to return so I asked in my mind, “Who’s there? Who are you?” The whispers started again, only this time I could understand. This is what they said:
“You are special. You can hear us. You understand what we say.” And I knew in that moment that it was the trees I was listening to. And strange as that may seem, I did not doubt it in any way. The trees continued: “What you are doing is right. The decision you made tonight is right. You are on the right path. If you will listen we will help you. We will teach you what you need to know. You should be writing this down.”
At this point I got my pen and a yellow-lined pad (which I still have). The trees waited for me and when I was ready they continued:
“Your gift is your writing. And yourself. Be yourself. That is most important. You must stay centered. You must do what you must do and you know what that is. You can relax in this. Trust it. It is indeed real. It will get easier and easier for you to hear us. Just make the choice and listen. That’s all. You understand. Trust yourself.”
By this time I admit I was a bit freaked out. I had heard the redwoods a couple of years earlier, but this was different. As if sensing my thoughts the trees went on:
“Know this: These are not your thoughts reflected through us. You must listen and trust that this is real. It is also important that you write this down. What you later do with it is up to you, but keep it all written down. This is an important beginning - keep a record of it”.
I’m thinking, maybe I’ll ignore this.
“You cannot run from this. You know that. This is one reason why you are here now. This is a gift. Your gift is needed in the world. Now. If you ran from this you would be miserable, feel tarnished. There is much at stake and you know you will do all you can. Start now.”
I waited for a while but nothing more came that night. At the time I wrote: “While I was writing, the words just came. I was writing them down but it wasn’t my mind that was thinking them. I was listening and sensed what was being said, and out it came. This is blowing my mind! I am excited, scared, and ecstatic all at once. And most of all grateful. This is a wondrous gift.”
And so it was. And so it still is.
From Volume 7, No. 1 & 2
Susan Meeker-Lowry photo
