A Window into the Woods - Mindful Living in August

“When you go out into the woods, and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreens, and some of them are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it.
You appreciate the tree.

The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying ‘You are too this, or I’m too this.’ That judgment mind comes in. And so I practice turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are.”

- Ram Dass, author, psychologist

What is our window into the world? What is our window into the woods? As we pause to contemplate the quote above, let’s consider how is it that we can be so critical towards those around us. How, instead, could we expand our perspective? How can we look at others in compassion and love?

What are some judgments that we might have made today? Are some of those judgments out of our own mobius strip of insecurities, doubts, jealousies, or lack of understanding? Do you find some of these circling both in and out of your world – what comes from the inside and also what seems to show up on the outside as projections, reactions, frustrations? I love the image of the mobius strip as I practice authenticity, the idea of being the same on the inside and the outside. Authenticity is an intentional practice…a daily practice.

How can we appreciate others and invite others to appreciate us? We encounter differences every day – differences in race, politics, gender, faith and more. Even differences in how we manage our day – have you ever been judged for being an early riser or a late sleeper? Have you ever been judged for being too sensitive or not sensitive enough? How can we connect across these differences, especially at a time of such deep social polarization?

“Every viewpoint is a view from a point,” writes Richard Rohr, “and we need to critique our own perspective if we are able to see and follow the truth.” As I wrote in my book, Stop Breathe Believe, “It’s only when we gain some self-awareness that we’re able to critique our own dearly held viewpoint, and only when we can move toward understanding another’s perspective that we can gain the empathy that allows a deeper understanding of each other’s experiences and emotions. Part of empathy is perspective-taking, being able to see and understand what someone else is thinking.”

When we look into another’s eyes, can we see the face of God? Can we appreciate the differences, the uniqueness, the beauty in all of us?

I want to be a bridge-builder among differences. We have to listen closely to others, much the same way we want others to listen to our hearts, our ideas, our perspective.

Photo taken in Costa Rica by Dianne Morris Jones

Have we thought of where these judgments came from? Can we trace the roots of some of our deeply held or even freshly budding judgments? What roots are grounded in love? What pruning might need to occur in our hearts?

As we stretch and bend in resilience amidst so many forces in our culture, we can think of how a tree has the ability to move and adjust. As we look at our roots, how can we water and support the beauty of wisdom as we learn to love deeper and wider? How can we pay more careful attention to our thoughts, our judgments, our schemas, and our previous learnings as we attempt to lean in to loving others in a more gentle, caring and empathic way?

Photo taken in Glacier National Park, Montana by Dianne Morris Jones

At times in therapy, I will ask the client to draw a simple tree with branches and roots. It is sometimes helpful to label the roots and the branches in relation to a particular struggle to open up understanding from a new and fresh perspective. At times we can become so ingrained in our thought patterns that it’s difficult to shift to a more expansive understanding. Often through the process of drawing the roots and the branches, which calls on us to reach into our heart and get out of our head, there can be a deepening…an ability to embrace the “why” of our struggle and begin to work with our deeper understanding in a compassionate way, towards ourselves and others.

For me, the ability to sit under a tree, marvel at the strength of a tree, or go on a walk through nature is a reflective, quieting, stilling and strengthening practice. May we find some ways to be in nature this month – to notice trees, to think about our roots of judgment, and to look into sustainability for our environment: our physical environment, our emotional environment and our spiritual environment. Could it be that a “climate crisis” can be found in realms in addition to the environmental?

Could today be the day we begin to look for something beautiful that we have never noticed before? Could today be the day we begin to look at others in a more compassionate way? Could today be the day we begin to look at ourselves in a kinder way?

You are invited to join me in a focus on trees and roots this month as we focus on a “Window into the Woods” by appreciating nature AND by asking ourselves the questions—sometimes hard questions—in regards to our judgments, perspectives and appreciation of others. You can join me through daily posts on Instagram and/or Facebook, or a downloadable PDF is available here and on my website, www.diannemorrisjones.com.

Roger has written a poem to accompany us on this month-long journey.

A Tree Poem

A tree
holds much beauty and mystique. My
favorite tree: a massive pecan tree in our backyard.
A trunk, more than six feet around, reveals two discrete,
pancake-sized pruning scars, as if to say: Life deals us
wounds–we recover–blemished–we remain susceptible.
Her bark is sandpaper rough, but underneath, she’s tender, like
a hard-shelled relative that’s a softy underneath the veneer. Her
branches, dense with green leaves, tower like a billowing
thunderhead cloud. Yes, once in a while, I talk to her. I put a
hand on her rutty grey-shaded trunk. She stands and listens
like an empathetic friend–attentive and silent.
I have not named
her. No rush. Her
roots are
strong
and
deep.

- Roger Jones