Ancient stories often contain wisdom that is worth re-discovering.
I was reminded of one particular story recently, after attending a talk in Victoria on urban forestry. The name of the story is Rukkha-dhamma Jataka, or The Wisdom of Trees. It belongs to a collection of tales which are said to be the Buddha's account of his previous lives. In many of these stories, the Buddha-to-be takes birth as an animal. In some, he is born as a human. In this case, however, he comes into being as a tree-spirit, one of a class of beings who make their homes in trees, shrubs, and other plants.
The story opens with the new king sending word to all the tree-spirits (rukkha-devata) that they now have permission to live wherever they like. Though the previous king is never described, the new king’s decree suggests an autocratic ruler who was determined to control every being in his realm, including the tree-deva. Now these playful and loyal beings will be able to decide whether they want to live in trees or shrubs, in groves or forests.
The idea of free will and choice is intriguing here. If one has true freedom to decide where and how to live, what will guide one’s decision-making? Personal preference, or the advice of a trusted guide? The narrative doesn’t wait long for the Bodhisatta (the Buddha-to-be) to appear, offering the wisdom of his experience. He advises the spirits not to take up their abode in trees that stand alone. He invites them to join him in the Sal forest, and to choose Sal trees that surround the one where he makes his home, thus establishing their home in a community of others.
Of course, disobedience to wise counsel is necessary to the story. Despite the Bodhisatta’s words of advice, some of the tree spirits decide to take up residence in majestic Sal trees that stand alone in village squares. These trees receive the honour and veneration of local villagers, generation after generation. To reside in one of these lordly Sal trees is to be part of village life, and to feel the reflected glory and reverence offered to these trees.
Other tree-spirits, however, follow the advice of the Bodhisatta and make their home in the grove. When a violent windstorm comes, the lordly Sal trees that stand alone come crashing to the ground, with their roots torn up. The tree-devas who chose to live in these solitary trees are now without a home. Off they go to the Sal forest, lamenting their fate. The moral of the story is very clear: better to live with others than to live alone, better to form a web of connection than to place one’s hopes on individual status and success. Underneath the moral, however, is another teaching, one that shows keen observation of the natural world: trees that grow in a community of other trees stand stronger and are less prone to the danger of fierce storms.
When I told this story at Seattle Insight Meditation Society, I had the children and adults cross their arms in front of them and hold hands to show the interweaving of tree roots. Together we repeated the Pali words “Pavana, pavana, vata-bahula” to suggest the force of the wind, while we rocked back and forth without falling over.
Even though some trees will always fall in a great windstorm, trees growing in a forest are less vulnerable than trees that stand alone. Their roots reach out under the earth and form complex grids of connection, supporting each other and also transmitting messages and nutrients.
The story reminds us that trees have much to teach us about how to live, and even perhaps, how to think.
Forest-thinking is a term used by Dr. Cecil Konijnendiyk, a professor of urban forestry at the University of British Columbia. Intuitively, we may have a sense of what this means—to adopt a way of seeing and reflecting that takes into account much more than our individual needs and desires. But the term invites other possibilities as well.
We could say that forest-thinking approaches problem-solving from a three-dimensional perspective. This includes recognizing what is present but mostly unseen--the underground networks of support and connection found in root systems in forests. What root systems are we overlooking as we tackle the serious challenges facing the planet? Forest-thinking also acknowledges what is unseen but beneficial--the invisible exhalation of trees, returning oxygen to the atmosphere. Forest-thinking, we could say, is even inclusive of another dimension, which is time. Thinking like a forest means accepting our limited life-span as individual members of a species, while recognizing that our lives have the potential to be a blessing and a benefit to future generations.
To adopt forest-thinking is to...weave communities of care in conscious, creative and beautiful ways; recognize and celebrate how these communities of care “oxygenate” the world, offering life-transforming ideas, wisdom, and practices to participants and members while also inspiring others in other “forest” communities.
Forest-thinking is about being rooted and committed in our present circumstances and activities, while considering how we are passing along our wisdom.
Forest-thinking is multi-dimensional.
As an experiment, call to mind your last visit to a forest.
Above you, the green canopy. Around you, the underbrush or open spaces between the trunks of trees. Each trunk, when observed closely, distinct in its bark and branching. Wildflowers blooming in the shade, berries ripening. Mushrooms breaking surface, demanding attention or slyly sprouting, unseen, by a fallen tree. Moss, thick and green. Bird-sound, wind-sound, small skittering of forest creatures, humming and buzzing of insect life. A symphony of scents, from last year’s leaves to this year’s new growth, the perfume of wild blossoms. And, standing or moving in the forest, there is also a sense of the vastness of the underground networks.
Forest-thinking is a way of seeing and thinking that acknowledges the presence of many species living together in a complex web of life. It invites diversity and understands that the health and well-being of the forest depends on this diversity. As an attitude of mind, therefore, it is curious, open, and receptive, but still retains discernment and the ability to identify danger and send warning alerts along its pathways of communication.
Let's add forest-thinking to the curriculum!
Tree Canada offers Community Tree Grants and logistical support for planting trees on school grounds and in other public spaces. It only makes sense to help children establish thriving green spaces that they care for and visit every day.
Now is time to make forest-thinking and forest-learning part of every child’s education and experience.
Comments