When trees call
How to pick up the phone and hop on the flow
I started to learn that trees were talking to me and then I realized that they were calling me too. The first forest to summon me was the Waipoua Forest in New Zealand.
The call is something you feel in your heart; a knowing that defies any rational. It’s never having heard about something and then all of a sudden hearing about it everywhere. It’s something you feel the need to stick to even in moments of challenge or despair.
After I paid a visit to Tane Mahuta, the largest kauri tree known to stand today, I heard about his sister Jomon Sugi, an ancient cedar tree that lives in the middle of Yakushima, a small Japanese island.
The tree survived logging, maybe because of its odd shape, and was only rediscovered in the 1960s. Since then, it’s become famous and the entire area has been protected against logging. Jomon Sugi is thought to be anywhere between 2,000 to 7,000 years-old. It could perhaps be the oldest living tree on the planet.
So how do trees become siblings? They sign a contract, of course. In 2009, the mayor of Yakushima and the Northland in New Zealand formed what is thought to be the world’s first international environmental partnership involving two iconic trees.
Just as I knew I had to go bear witness to Tane Mahuta, I had the same knowing in my heart about Jomon Sugi. The fact that it’s located in the middle of a hard-to-get-to island in Japan only made it more clear to me that I had to get there and that the call was real.
So while in Japan for research, my partner and I made the trek. We flew to a Kagoshima and then took a ferry to Yakushima. We took a bus to a hotel, then hitched a ride to our airbnb. It’s difficult to get around Japanese islands without a car and since we didn’t have an international drivers license, we relied a lot on bus schedules and the goodwill of people to pick us up as we stood on the side of the road with our thumbs up.
Our airbnb host Mikki was an awesome woman with a seven year-old daughter who moved to Yakushima from Tokyo to be closer to the ocean and the onsens and set up a yoga studio in her house. She brought us to an underwater onsen that is only accessible during low tide. I borrowed a Marimekko “onsen dress” from her and joined the locals in the natural hot springs.
We charted our route for the trek the next morning. We would need to catch a bus at 5am to get to a parking lot and then catch another bus at 6am to get into the park. Mikki made us onigiri for breakfast and bento for lunch.
Once in the park, we began our 11km walk along an old train track that was once used for mining. It’s a pretty narrow walkway so we were all hiking single-filed. You had to step off the path to allow groups to pass you and couldn’t slow down without going to the side and being passed by a tour group. It was more of a pilgrimage and less of a relaxing nature walk.
As we got deeper, we moved off the tracks and the forest began to change. We moved beyond trees that had been planted a few decades ago into an old-growth forest. Suddenly it felt like there was more air to breathe. The colors became more vibrant and the energy more palpable. Plants and trees grew on top of each other, creating a three-dimensional knotty web that we had to climb around, through, and under. The magic of being in an old-growth forest feels like walking into a movie. It can’t be real and yet it is. And actually, the forests in Yakushima inspired the creator of the famous Japanese anime film Princess Mononoke.
It was 11:11am when we finally reached Jomon Sugi. We were tired, hungry for lunch, and surrounded by thousands of fellow seekers taking selfies in front of this big tree. I just sat down and looked at her.
“Okay, you called me here,” I said. “I’m open to whatever message you have for me.” My intention going into this walk was to hear her wisdom. If she summoned me here, she must have some urgent message. I was ready for it.
She just stood there in her splendor so I decided to write her a letter as an offering:
Dear Jomon Sugi,
I’m sitting here in front of you. I’ve traveled a long way to get here — to Japan, then from Kyoto to Osaka, then a flight, a ferry, and a bus ride. We booked airbnbs, met our Japanese hosts, explored Yakushima. We woke up at 4:25am to catch a 5pm bus to catch another bus and then walked 11km to arrive to you and Sam noticed that when we started writing it was 11:11. So now I’m here and I want to say thank you, thank you for standing so strong all these years, thank you for your patience, your love, your sturdiness. Thanks for your energy.
I don’t actually know where this journey started and definitely don’t try to guess where it’s going. Did it start in the Waipoua forest? No, before. Perhaps it started at the very beginning but I only woke up to it when I reached a point of desperation and was unwilling to live if it were in pursuit of anything but my highest truth.
And I know this destination is not an end in itself. It’s all the love, magic, and support we received in pursuit of this journey. It’s the old man who picked us up when we were hitchhiking, Mikki and her daughter for bringing us to the underwater onsen, gifting us popsicles, making us onigiri for the journey, and driving us to the bus stop this morning. And all the ways we’ve been supported and held along the way that I’m not even aware of. You’ve been supporting us this whole time.
And we’re not alone on this journey. Hundreds of hikers outfitted in boots, leggings, bucket hats, big backpacks, carrying cameras and selfie sticks are here with us today. They eat their bentos and take group photos, but are they asleep to what’s really going on? Are we all?
Please help me continue to connect and wake up even more so that I can serve you. I desire to feel that aliveness in my heart all the time and promise to never forget that I am part of this infinite chain that is rooted as deeply as you and grows so tall.
I’m intuiting that the wisdom I asked you for, what you want to share is just this — you’re an inflection point, the call to you is representative of the invisible journey that’s not around the world, but deep within—ourselves and the earth. I promise to continue that journey for as long as I’m here and stay open to any messages you have for me.
Thank you. I love you.
They say the journey is the destination and now I finally really get it. It’s just like The Alchemist.
“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
— Paulo Coehlo
The act of being on a journey to visit this sacred tree is what made it all possible. I’m on a metaphysical path and the way there is through actual paths to sacred forests. Every time I answer the call the journey continues. It’s the game that never has to end. It’s the television show that has no reruns.
“Where are we going next?” my boyfriend asks. He’s an enabler of these quests and I feel very lucky when we get to go on them together.
“We can’t think it up,” I say, “ We’ll just know.” Each point on the journey only matters in that it propels the journey forward but you’ll never arrive until you are able to be present with exactly where you are. So if the journey is the destination, then once you start you’re already there and you just get to turn up the music, roll down the windows, let your hair blow in the wind, and enjoy the ride.
And actually while I was on my way to Jomon Sugi, the next destination became clear. I’ve been called to The Hoh Rainforest and will be spending a week there over the fall equinox with one of the wisest women around. She wrote the book Speaking With Nature that has become something of a sacred text for me.
When life begins to flow in this unpredictable way that just feels so right, it can be disconcerting. Everything you thought you knew no longer makes sense. It can be overwhelming and isolating. And it’s in those times that it’s most important to immerse fully in nature. Jump in the ocean, run through the forest, stand in dirt – do whatever feels good.
It’s not just me who’s getting called—it’s all of us. If you don’t hear it yet then you might not be open to it. All you have to do is walk into the woods and say, “Hi, I’m ready for my call,” and then be sure to pick up when the call comes. Sometimes we don’t recognize calls at first so you can always ask for a more clear sign. Notice the animals, the breeze, and look into the sky for messages. If you happen to open a book to a page and the word that jumps out to you is “Costa Rica,” remember what Einstein said:
Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.
Forest bathing is the practice of connecting to nature so that you can get clear on your purpose and start to flow through your life. If you’d like some more tips and tricks or want to join in on the magic, hop over to forestbathing.club
