This year, I have fallen in love.
Not with a man. But with the trees. More specifically, I have fallen in love with the ancient and veteran oaks that live in large numbers, in the Windsor Great Park, near my home.
As I write, I feel some of you rolling your eyes at this idea of being in love with the trees. At one time, I might have done the same.
After all, how can you compare loving a tree with loving a human, especially one that stands by you through the significant challenges and joys of life? With a human, you can share conversation and common experiences. You can raise children together, or travel to exotic places. You can build a home or sit by each other’s sides when needed. You can put your arms around each other. Or hold hands as you walk along a beach.
None of this is possible with a tree. At least in the way humans do things.
I know that thus far in my life, I have been less than successful in my attempts to create a partnership, or marriage.
But just as I know that I have fallen in love with the oaks, I also understand WHY I have failed in human love. (Except, of course, for my daughter. She has a huge piece of my heart and always will.)
Over the years, as I learned more about the nervous system and the effects of chronic stress, I came to understand that we cannot love fully, completely and open-heartedly when we are chronically stressed. As much as I wanted loving partnerships in my life, I lived 30+ years chronically stressed, fighting against life, and love.
Stress is where we go when something inside us believes there is something to fear. Stress is where we go when our brains believe that some part of our current life is unsafe. When we are unsafe, we feel fear. The opposite of love is fear. I have lived the opposite of love for so long.
Living the opposite of love literally shapes us and our hearts. When we fear, our hearts shut down and retreat. They hide away in the fortification of the ribcage, blanketed deep within the lungs. Our fear shapes us so that we lead from our heads, not our hearts.
Over the last many years, I did the work that I call Moving Well. (The work that I offer to my clients.) The more I did the work, the more I eased myself out of my own perpetually stressed existence. I moved into a way of living that felt more peaceful, joyful and present.
As I shed my patterns, my heart moved out of its hiding place. It took up residence front and centre, just behind the top of my breastbone. Slowly, I learned to stand available in life. I learned to lead myself from my open and vulnerable heart — safe enough within myself not to need the old defences.
For many years, as I walked in the fields, the oak trees have been sentinels for my living. Now that my heart is free, they have come to claim it.
I find myself enchanted by these trees and all that they offer and represent. I am learning tree facts and fables. I am spending time with individual oaks — Getting to know them as friends and listening to the wisdom they have to share. For they do have wisdom. And they do want to share it.
So this Valentine’s day, I am in love.
It is a love that won’t be offended if I don’t bring roses, or prepare a meal.
Instead, all it wants is for me to offer my presence and time.
How lucky am I?