Thank You, Tree

I am the sort of person who has had, on occasion, a spiritual encounter with a tree. I’m not the Lorax, and I’m not panpsychist, but that mindset that recognizes the sacredness of a tree is one that resonates with me.

Like most people, I’m suspicious of declaring everything conscious. To the extent that a jelly bean or a splinter has a psyche, they are small enough for me to safely ignore.

Mostly.

Maybe I will thank the splinter for teaching me to wear gloves, but I don’t I will thank the jelly bean for repeating the failed lesson that there is no “right number” of jelly beans.

In Mari Kondo’s book, The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, I read this quote that neatly describes the amount of panpsychism that’s right for me:

I urge them to try saying, “Thank you for keeping me warm all day,”
when they hang up their clothes after returning home.

This is only a small part of her life changing magic, but you’d need to read the book to get the rest. And you should read it, but I’m going to ignore the part about tidying up and focus on this sentiment.

I am enjoying a little bit of playful panpsychism every day. I thank my shoes for carrying me, and I accept the lessons they taught me while they carried me. When I think them, I am thanking the sun and rain that fed the grass; the cow ate that ate the grass before it gave its skin for my shoes; the pay for the labor; the dinner for the old friend it paid for; the dozens of intermediaries between my credit card statement and that dinner.

I am grateful to the sunset, an argument, the roof, a meal, photos taken by my little brother. The playfulness around giving words to my sentiment sparks joy. I do not thank the universe, or the smog, or God, or my mom- I can recognize their part, but it is the sunset I thank. It’s not a ritual or a religion, it’s just a thing to do sometimes. Thank you, photos, for being beautiful and inspiring. Thank you, words, for carrying my meaning.