I’m reading a book right now called, “Finding the Mother Tree”, by Suzanne Simard. Reading about the intricate web of interconnection between trees has me thinking about the often invisible connections that bond us to the people in our lives, to our communities, and to the land itself. In the book Simard begins to describe the vast and complex web of communication and sharing that transpires every day within the forest floor, completely out of our sight and awareness. There is a passage in the book that I found profoundly moving and enlightening. She is studying the health and growth of newly planted trees in a clearcut when she notices that, despite the trees having soil, water, and sunlight, these seedlings are struggling to survive, even as the few native seedlings around them seem to be thriving.
Turns out that trees need more than just earth, water, and sunlight to grow. They need each other. As the author dives deeper into her study she discovers a vast network of connection and communication that exists among the plant life – beyond one specific species of tree. This network of support provides information, nutrients, and protection. These trees work together as a collective supporting the health and growth of the forest. Without this connection a tree has less chance of surviving, despite having what we imagined as all the right ingredients.
As a society it often feels like we underestimate these interconnections – both within nature and within ourselves. I grew up with an understanding that I could live anywhere my heart desired, that home was where the heart is. As I grow older though I have discovered that home is also where we are planted, and that in order to thrive and grow we need the network of community to support us. Like the forest floor, this network can sometimes feel difficult to see and feel, especially in our current times where much of our connection comes through a smartphone instead of person to person.
I have had the privilege of living on Vancouver Island for the past twenty years. Despite that, I still often feel like a visitor. My roots that connect me to place are not familiar with the unique properties of the soil here – I am a transplant. Even so I have tried my best to cultivate a connection with the place and the people. Like those transplanted trees, the secret to growth is first to understand the importance of the connections we share with one another and with the land. From this understanding we can begin to cultivate a healthy relationship with community.
There are still days where I feel like a lone seedling freshly planted in an unfamiliar forest. Still, other days, I can begin to see the network of connection and support I have cultivated through living my life here in Victoria. That network begins by understanding and appreciating your unique gifts and offerings that you bring to the world, and, in finding ways to offer that within your community. Establishing the web of interconnection that we need to thrive – in the way the forest has – takes time, persistence, and commitment.
The next time you’re out on a walk in the forest think about the vast network of connection and communication that exists under hand within the land. Feel it, sense it, connect with it. At the same time reflect on the invisible connections you have to the people in your life, in your community. I believe that being conscious of these connections helps them grow stronger. Taking actions that strengthen these connections helps us as individuals but also helps us as a culture.