Slow Down, Rest

Last Saturday, after I made my first post on Friday, I dutifully went out to have my daily conversation with the tree. I approached her gnarly trunk, reached out and touched her and asked if it was ok to talk. She didn’t immediately respond. I sat on a little set of wooden steps we have leaning against the tree so the grandchildren (and now me) can more easily climb up to where it’s easier to find footholds. I leaned back against the tree and felt her power and silence. It was pleasant in the garden, and to just be with her was kind of comforting, although I felt a little awkward. I was anticipating asking the tree all sorts of questions that had been bubbling away in my mind since the day before. Then she said, in what felt like a sonorous voice, SLOW DOWN, REST. And that was it. Although there were no further “words” from her I had the sense that she felt that we humans were always rushing, rushing, rushing.

A salutary lesson. I have been busy for decades. Busyness has a kind of currency in our modern world… I’m busy, as much to say, I’m doing something important, I’m worthwhile. Of course, there’s a flip side, it can land as, what I’m doing is more important than you, than spending time with you. Devasting for a child, or someone perceived “less busy” (less worthy?) – an at-home mum (haha, really!) or an older person. Already I was reflecting on what the tree had said.

This continued throughout the week as I navigated my newly retired life with a post-op overlay. It can take about 2 weeks to recover from this operation, and I had been taking it easy, but Saturday was only Day 5. I felt kind of guilty not doing a lot. I could look around the house and garden and see all sorts of things that needed doing – a box that hadn’t yet been unpacked, the carpet ends that had been rolled up in the corner since last September, windows that needed cleaning, leaves on the deck. And endless flow of guilt laden thoughts… I’m just lazy (no surprise that’s what my mum used to call me when I lay on my bed as a teenager and read a book), I should have more energy, I’m not doing much, and so it goes on. Is this what keeps us all busy? Guilt and shame? No doubt our own versions of it, but it’s more than this. There’s a kudos associated with being busy, energetic, productive. We live within an economic paradigm. Growth at all costs, extract resources, sell sell sell, buy buy buy… Ick, I feel tainted just thinking about it. No wonder we’re all caught on the rat wheel, and the tree bemused watches us all racing around like mad things. What does the tree value I wonder?

A few days later I ask the tree. She responds readily: the sun, the rain, day and night, my companion plants and trees growing around me, the birds that roost on my branches, and the insects that make their home in my bark. I love them all. I value you humans too, but not as much. I like the children playing their games, and you adults can be amusing, but I don’t need you.

It's true, she doesn’t need us to survive or to have a quality of life. In fact, we are detracting from her quality of life. Who knows what impact human-induced climate change will have on her – rising temperatures, extreme weather events. Not to mention direct risks from humans in her immediately vicinity. She has avoided major harm so far in her 600 years of living alongside humans, but for how long?

All these thoughts make for a busy brain, and it’s even harder to rest. I feel impelled to “do something”. What can I do to help avert climate change? Biodiversity loss? Plastics in the oceans? I feel futile, weak, hopeless, pathetic, and worse, not just a waste of space, but a scourge upon the earth. We’re a curse, a cancer, a plague, causing suffering and misery, death and destruction to so many species, including our own. This is a rabbit hole I think to myself, a dead-end; it may all be true, but I need to get out of this way of thinking or I’ll never rest like the tree says.

How do I find rest? I ask the tree. You know she says, be in nature; watch the kereru (native wood pigeon) swoop, listen to the cicadas; breathe in, smell the salty air, the musty earth; feel the breeze on your cheeks, the sun on your face; walk on the beach and paddle in the sea that I can only gaze at from afar. You have solace all around you, treasure it.

I do these things and I feel better. My heart lifts, my breathing is deeper, my body relaxes, my mind settles (until next time!) It’s becoming a daily practice. Actually it has been a lifelong practice, but I’m more intentional about it now; revelling in the beauty of nature that abounds. There’s time for the other. There’ll be time to work on climate change mitigation and creating a sustainable lifestyle. We’re doing what we can as we can… volunteering for our local native planting and weeding group, pest control, recycling of course, reusing and reducing where possible, and shopping more wisely than ever before (helped by being on fixed retirement incomes). Not so good for the neoliberal economy that values growth and wealth creation above all else, but good for our souls, and vital for the future of humanity and life as we know it.

It's been a good week. I’ve slowed down a lot and I’ve rested. I feel a bit like an animal in semi-hibernation. I realise (re-remember) that this is how we’re meant to live, there are busy times and rest times in nature, and we are part of nature. We’ve just forgotten. We need to rest to rejuvenate and revitalise. It’s like the tree says, breathe in and breathe out, enjoy the rhythms of life, let go and relax. There’s nothing wrong with you if you feel tired, worn out or it’s all too much. It’s just your natural being sending you a message… slow down, rest. Thank you tree for reminding me.

And thank you for reading this post! If you’d like to read more of our conversations don’t forget to subscribe. It’s free, and it’s easy to download the Substack app if you haven’t already.

I’d also love to hear about your experiences of struggling to slow down and rest in today’s crazy world. How do you mange it? What gets in the way? What helps you?