During a long railway trip, I found myself thinking of the past events that have shaped me - most of all, maybe some 45 years ago.
I stood closely facing a small tree in our
garden, and felt able to “ask” of it, as it were, “What is it like to be a
tree?” This was my turning point. There was, in a sense, a shattering “answer”,
though it is hard to explain it. For a short moment my perception had enlarged
so as to include its own ‘is-ness’ as a tree. From then on, trees had an inner
being, just as the birds and our selves.