By guest blogger, Sonja F.
Highway drives through forest and brush used to bore me. Now, views once met with an anywhere-but-in-the-moment/“I can’t wait until we get there” attitude are met with my eyes peeled, darting from stem to stem, analyzing, absorbing and experiencing…Are they straight or tilted, thick or thin, condensed or sparse? How do they fit into their surroundings, and what do they look like compared to their neighbours? What is their appendage composition? Are they long and thin, thick and wavy, lush or fallen?
I’m talking, of course, about The Trees.
Did you know that The Trees were here before you, are here now, and will be here long after you? Well, there was a time that I certainly didn’t consider this. I was too consumed with my suffering. I never thought of the beings with whom I shared an imperative, oxygen/carbon dioxide exchange with. I walked alongside them- these green beauties, these life-sources- with my eyes to the earth, rolling the past and future over in my head. Me me me.
Living with an eating disorder will do that… Take away the ability to be even the slightest bit outside of yourself. Sure, I’d experienced beauty: Sunsets, rainbows, and breathtaking scenery… Yet, where was I? I would look at a mountain range and only think of how I wished my thigh gap was wider. A white sand beach would incite disordered mind-fucks such as “I should try harder to lose weight so I look better in my bikini.” Ironically, when I sat in a car for hours on end, it felt as if my self-destructive, eating disorder riddled thoughts matched the number of trees I passed by. The trees were there, almost as if they were humbly waiting to be recognized, but I never saw them.
A Douglas Fir was the first tree I truly saw. I was walking through Stanley Park with a good friend, and we stopped at a three hundred year old Douglas Fir. This tree was spectacular. Her base was four meters in diameter and, while her top had fallen during a windstorm, she still stood proud and gentle. I had walked past her many times and I wondered if she recognized me. Was she glad to see me? Beautiful slabs of bark in dark, brown striations, year-round needles of a rich, green hue, and protective branches that reached out parallel to the forest floor. She was a massive work of art and towered high above all else. A kind of emmensity that, if the stars aligned, could fall and kill anyone in an instant. A type of power that demands respect. When I noticed this Douglas Fir, I started to notice other trees. Next came the Hemlock, Spruce, Ash, Cedar and Birch. I love the leaves of an Oak, the majestic nature of a Maple, and the shiny leaves of a Poplar as they sparkle in the wind. If you ever have the pleasure of seeing a Catulpa in spring, be sure to stop and absorb its unparalleled radiance.
Recovery from an eating disorder will do that… Open your eyes to the experiences, environment, and beauty in the nature around you. Recovery will give you an opportunity to sit in stillness... To enjoy and interact with life’s simple pleasures. Strolling alongside the trees and identifying them by genus is a fun hobby that very much fulfills me. However, what’s even more rewarding is driving down an old street I haven’t been down in years and looking at the trees- seeing them, as if for the first time. And, while they were always there, I now have the freedom to focus on them and not my pain. What a beautiful change of pace. Tree tree tree.
