Dandelions & Redwoods— A Creed for Living Consciously
I love L.A. after a rain. The air is sparkling and there’s a sharper focus that makes everything look more alive. The day after the last big rain, the dog and I took our usual neighborhood walk. Overnight, it seemed like every lawn was suddenly populated with perky Dandelions, whose bright, yellow faces smiled up at the crystal blue sky.
When my children were little, we’d spend hours walking the neighborhood, looking for fully-intact Dandelion seed heads — those fuzzy, silver puffballs with wispy stalks that look like tiny versions of the chimney sweeps’ brooms in ‘Mary Poppins’. The goal was to find one, make a wish and then, with all your might, blow on it, scattering the seeds with just one breath. Like blowing out candles on a birthday cake, the idea was that with one powerful gust of air you could make your wish come true. I loved watching dimpled hands gingerly pluck the stem, bring it up to their lips and -whoosh! -blow their wishes into being. Sometimes it took two or three tries, but that didn’t matter. The children believed in their magic. I still do.
The Dandelion might be nature’s most underrated plant. Most people view it as a pesky, garden weed, an invasive, loathsome little nuisance that upsets the purity of their pristine lawns.
Not me. I adore this mini-marvel. Aside from the memories of whimsical seed head hunts long ago, the Dandelion, like the Aries I am, playfully marks the coming of Spring.
Dandelions have healing properties and can be used for medicinal purposes (BTW — Please Google all this before you go foraging in your lawn!). They’re edible. You can make tea and wine from the leaves or flowers. Toss them in a salad or sandwich. Stew the roots. Bees and butterflies love their sweet nectar.
Dandelions are mighty warriors. They’ll survive frosts, freezes, depleted soil and overcrowding. They will adapt and flourish, despite challenging circumstances. Their deceptively sunny nature masks the remarkable resilience of one of Mother Nature’s greatest herbs. Still, with all their attributes, fired up gardeners squirt them with the killer Round Up, wanting to spray them into oblivion.
Why are we humans so hell bent on controlling Nature? Clearly, our attempts to conquer the natural world haven’t fared so well, for us, or the planet. Yet, there was a time when indigenous peoples lived in harmony with nature. But as the population increased, the tribal, nomadic, hunter gatherers were viewed as ‘pagans’ or pantheistic and needed to be dealt with to make way for more permanent settlers and farmers. Like the dandelion, they were deemed a pesky nuisance that needed to be Rounded Up and removed. We plowed over thousands of years of knowledge about how to cultivate, care for and live with our Mother and, instead, without having to give a thought about where our food, shelter or water came from, chose to live autonomously from Her.
In recent years, in California, thousands of acres of Redwoods (and their ocean side sisters -Giant Sequoias), those old growth sentinels in our ancient forests, were devastated by increasingly intense wildfires. Yet, in Nature’s divine design, they also need fire in order to grow. Their cycle relies on the intensity of fire to open cones and drop their seeds into the nutrient rich earth that fires uncover on the forest floor. That same idea is true for the human spirit. The metaphorical fires we walk through are necessary in our life cycle. They serve as learning opportunities for our own growth and evolution in consciousness.
This is the reason I look to our Earth Mother to understand my aging process, as well. The Sequoias and Redwoods never yearn to be saplings again. Unburdened by the concept of aging, they have no issue with the passage of time. They grow towards the light, to stand tall in the truth of their ancient beauty. Content with their place in the world, they congregate in mountainous groves where their roots harmoniously intertwine.
Sitting amongst these big trees is my sanctuary. Nature’s cathedral. A forest temple. A mystical mosque. A holy place where the senses engage and a respite from the chaos in the world. It’s one of the few places where time stands still; where I’m able to feel fully present in the ever elusive and enigmatic moment. At peace. I’m filled with soul-centering reverence for Our Earth Mother. With every inhale, I’m filled with the presence of God/Spirit, and the vastness of the universe. I comprehend that I am but a tiny part in this wondrous, huge miracle of life; reminded how our basic needs are provided by nature; how we’re interconnected by the air we breathe, the water we consume and the energy we exchange. Breathing in and out. Like the trees. Receiving and giving. Our life cycles, like tree roots, deeply intertwined.
I have an equally deep soul recognition for the diminutive and very generous, Dandelion. This tiny plant plays an equal part in the great web of life. Despite being mowed down, weeded out and constantly having its inherent value ignored, misjudged or negatively dismissed, it continues to show up, grow up and give back.
These two marvels of nature offer a creed for living consciously. The gospel according to Dandelions and Redwoods: Be comfortable with the passage of time. Stand tall in your truth and beauty. Be at peace with where you are in any moment in time. Be adaptable. Show up and give back. Grow towards the Light. Remember our trials are required for our growth, evolution and resilience. WE ARE ALL CONNECTED.
None of us knows our timeline on earth. The Redwoods may be here for millennia, the Dandelions merely a season. My ‘tree’ reverence is unwavering. But, I am an urban dweller. A warrior who champions the underdog and so I marvel at the eager, little Dandelion. I’m rooting for this unstoppable force of nature that, without a doubt, is pushing up towards the light, through a crack in a sidewalk, somewhere, right now.
