January 13, 2026
For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers… Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is.
Herman Hesse, Demian
The meditation retreat I attended this past week was situated at 1440 Multiversity, in Scotts Valley, on land that previously served a biblical college. The spiritual land also held hundreds, if not thousands, of beautiful California coast redwood trees, towering into the sky. One in particular was adorned with a plaque, naming it “The Mother Tree”. The photos below don’t do it justice because it’s almost impossible to capture the tree in a single frame. The Mother Tree is more than a thousand years old, and according to the plaque she “has filtered nutrients and wisdom to the younger trees. Through underground root systems, she hosts conversations that increase the resilience of her entire community and remind us of our interconnectedness and shared resources.”
I love that anthropomorphic description. I believe trees have infinite wisdom and experience, if only we could still and quiet ourselves to hear. With that in mind, every day on retreat I paused and held her, listening to her speak through me. I could feel her presence in the air, through a deliberately low frequency. Here’s what The Mother Tree told me:
It Takes a Lifetime
She first told me “It takes a lifetime”. I’m not sure what my question was, or what “it” refers to, but maybe it doesn’t matter. As I shared her wisdom with Jon Kabat-Zinn while we were being served lunch, he laughed and smiled, saying “It’s perfect. It’s a Koan.” It takes a lifetime. What does? Everything. It’s our practice. Everything I write has taken me a lifetime to learn and share. Everything I do from here on out will take a lifetime. It’s perfectly poignant. That it takes a lifetime is really a meditation on everything and anything that matters.
As above, so below
She shared this with me as I felt awe peering high up into her branches. I think there were multiple levels to this statement, which I admit had never crossed my mind before I felt her speak it to me. In one way, her underground roots of interconnection and communication is how we humans are above — all connected to each other (on the final day of retreat, we all formed a circle and held hands, and I think the redwoods would have nodded in approval). There’s a spiritual world we don’t see, right below our feet. Maybe that’s why walking meditation, barefoot, is so powerful. A connection to the ground, the world invisible but always present. In another way, there’s a spiritual world encompassing everything above us, in the universe. It’s the stars and planets, the galaxies and cosmos. As above, so below — that spiritual world impacts the world we live in. We are not apart. We are non-dual. We are one.
How could you ask, when you already know?
Her final wisdom was a reminder of inner knowing. It echoed my experience with Ayahuasca — the truth that everything I need is already inside me. I whisper this to my kids each night: “You have everything you need inside you.” The Mother Tree was whispering it to me now. There is no need to ask — you already know. Just listen. Trust what you carry. It is enough.
