For most of scientific history, animal sociality was utilised to validate the myths of Darwinism. Scholars such as Suzanne Simard, however, have intermittently emerged from the margins of scholarship to suggest something that we have perhaps always all intuitively felt - that life is not composed of trillions of individuals, but infinite interdependencies.
Yet wisdom seekers that speak of our bodies’ primordial attunement to the blooming of the springrose, setting of the sun, and running of the salmon are not new.
Totemism and its iterations are woven into knowledge systems around the world. The belief that humans - and all living organisms - are embodiments of interrelated kinships and deeper spiritual relationships is commonly depicted by humans merging in physical form with any given kin group to serve as an emblem or symbol of what they share in common.
Like treading a circle, we may find that as we uncover material truths about the world through a scientific lens, the closer we are to resurfacing the wisdom within those very knowledge systems. Simard writes in Finding the Mother Tree that elder trees act as the “majestic hubs at the centre of forest communication, protection, and sentience", and that when they die, "they pass their wisdom to their kin, generation after generation, sharing the knowledge of what helps and what harms, who is friend or foe, and how to adapt and survive in an ever-changing landscape. It’s what all parents do”.
Ancient wisdom from our human and more-than-human ancestors whispers similar knowledge to us - we only have to quiet down enough to listen. As Abigail Rose Clarke urges in her book, Returning Home to Our Bodies, “Look up, look around, there are teachings all around us”. And thus, we return to the locus of this ancient conversation. The ecosystem holds indisputable wisdom that can teach us about the living world, but also our own lives. If we look at the somatics of trees, we see that our own entire anatomy is a reflection of the forest - and vice versa.
Let us turn, now, to the trees. Here are six examples of how trees teach us about relationships:
Light
Trees teach us that, just as different species absorb thermal energy from the sun differently through photosynthesis, we all require our own unique conditions to thrive. We were taught to think of the trees as competing for the pinnacle of the canopy, yet some trees rely on shaded light to photosynthesize with their trunks.
Pace
Trees show us that there is strength in passing time. Faster-growing trees are more vulnerable as they are made up of more pockets of air and water rather than wood. Wood cells become more resilient when they take time to pack-in the wood fibres and cells. Rooted in this, there is a growing social movement which encourages people to slow down.
Space
Trees show us that we must give ourselves and others room to grow. Indeed, there is a phenomenon known as crown shyness, whereby forest trees respect each other’s space, leaving slender winding gaps between the end of one tree’s outermost leaves and the start of another’s.
Protection
Trees show us that aid is always mutual. Forests are full of symbiosis and reciprocity. Older trees that make up the forest canopy provide protection to young trees for survival. This is also seen across species, like with mycelium, and reinforces the notion that we must not only protect our personal relationships but also those with the outer human and more-than-human world.
Communication
Tending to and caring for others improves the resilience of our personal and societal relationships. This is seen in trees, which use water and other nutrient networks to communicate messages to care across the forest. They send distress signals about drought, diseases, or insect attacks to others so they may alter their behaviour and help the collective well-being of the entire ecosystem.
Rest
Trees teach us that there is beauty in accepting times of stagnancy. Different parts of the forest grow at different times of the year. Foliage growth happens in the spring, followed by trunk growth in the summer and root growth in the fall and winter.