The Meditation Tree 

Last year I spent several months meditating under a particular tree in my neighborhood park. I was going through a difficult time, and the first thing I thought of was to go find a tree for support. When I saw this one, I knew it had to be the one. 

It was standing at the top of a wooded slope, right at the edge of a ball field and playground. It looked like it had been there for a very long time, presiding over all the activities. I sensed it had enough life experience to be able to help me. 

Every morning for months I woke before dawn, forced myself out of bed, and walked straight to that tree. As I approached each time, I asked it for permission. The last thing I wanted was to be meditating under a tree that didn’t want me there. 

As far as I could tell, it never said no—though I wasn’t entirely sure what a no would be like. I figured I’d just feel it. 

While I was there I tended the space around it. I picked up trash that had drifted over from the playground and tried to keep the area clear. The tree didn’t seem to mind when kids left piles of sticks, or rocks, or pine cones near it. It didn’t seem to mind the stray shoe that showed up one day and was gone a few days later.

But the morning I arrived and found two neon orange traffic cones leaning against its trunk, it did not seem happy. I moved those right away.  

Then one day I felt the urge to take photos, so the next morning I brought my camera and let my intuition guide me. These are the photos that came from that morning. 

The tree gave me a lot during those months. I was growing and deepening in ways I didn’t understand at the time.

I’m not sure I fully understand it now, or that I’ve found the words for all of it. 

Maybe one day I will.