Hi, everyone

Holidays are over and it's time for me to get back to writing. I feel reluctant to re-engage, and unsure what to write. So I thought I’d start with an entry about a passion that’s occupied quite a bit of my holiday.

The main reason for burning fuel to get from northern Scotland to southern England and back was to visit my mother. At 93, she lives in a Nursing Home, largely confined to her room, and alternately lying in bed or sitting in her chair. She was in good health, being very well cared for, but drifting through the days, and slowly becoming more confused.

The real joy of the journey, however, was visiting and photographing remnants of old forests and ancient trees. This has become a passion, and we're still finding places we haven't been before. One of the better-known sites on this trip was Sherwood Forest, haunt of the legendary Robin Hood. About a square mile of ancient oak forest still stands much as it would have been centuries ago if you close your eyes to the gravelled paths for a million visitors a year. We found a similar area of ancient oak woodland in Dalkeith Country Park, just south of Edinburgh. And we met many other old trees in the grounds of several mansions and castles.

Every time we leave our peaceful haven in the north of Scotland and venture into England we are overwhelmed by the crazy mainstream world. The rushing, impatient, endless streams of traffic on the motorways (freeways). The congestion. The focus on consumption and money. ...

And then we diverge to visit ancient trees. The energy changes. A timeless quality takes over. Or at least a time beyond human concerns. There is a peace and healing in the ancient trees. A place to slow down and go inwards. To discover what it is to BE rather than DO.

I’ve always loved trees.

I spent most of my adult life in Western Australia. There, I fell in love with the patchy-peely grey and orange bark of the Karri – second or third tallest tree in the world. With the knobbly, twisted forms of Marri laden with honey-sweet flowers and woody ‘honky’ nuts. With grey-white Wandoo as hard and heavy as iron. With stringy-bark Jarrah whose blocks once paved the streets of London and supported the underground railway. With the huge creamy-yellow conical flower cones of Bull Banksia. With weeping, aromatic peppermint trees. With pungent heath, ablaze with colour in spring. With all these ancient beings, survivors of fire and drought, rent by storm and lightning bolts, bloody but unbowed.

Yes, I’ve always loved trees.

In Australia, you can watch a tree grow to young maturity in a few short years. Yet it was in Scotland, where far greater patience is needed, that I really learned to communicate with them; to tune in to their spirit and be truly captivated by them. The Scottish Highlands are crying out for trees. Only a few percent of the native forests are left, and without their shelter the bare hills are washing away. From a distance, the mountain landscape is amongst the most beautiful in the world. But the closer we get, the more that beauty fades and the more we are left with images of exposed peat soils collapsing before our eyes. One of the most exciting things for me is to see the forest returning through fencing, control of grazing, and replanting. As the seedlings raise their heads above the heather, the landscape starts to transform.

Several years ago, I watched, fascinated, as someone bent old fence wire into rough divining rods, and demonstrated the human energy field. I found my own bits of wire, and discovered that I could sense it too. Then, I wondered if I could sense the energies of earth, trees and smaller plants. I could. And I found that what I sensed depended on where my mind was focused. One day, when tracing an energy line through the local hills, the rods began repeatedly to swing outwards and then point forwards again as I walked. It dawned on me that this was a response to the avenue of trees I was following, and that my attention had slipped from the earth beneath to the trees.

In time, I lost interest in the rods although I still have a lovely copper pair given me by a friend. But my ability to attune to trees remained. If I’m not too distracted, I can feel the shift in ‘energy’ as a physical sensation when I walk beneath the canopy. Sometimes, when I’m inattentive, a tree will literally stop me in my tracks, asking me to say ‘hello’. The energy is particularly strong in old yews. These are perhaps the longest living trees on earth, one in Scotland being thought to be at least 7,000 years old. And different trees have different ‘energies’. The beech feels feminine; the oak masculine. Yews exude a loving, caring feeling. The old apple trees in the orchard where we work seem to enjoy being cared for and collaborating with humans.

Later, my wife and I began to see and photograph beings in the forms of trees and the patterns of bark. Gradually we came to see them everywhere: in the foliage and in rocks as well as tree trunks. Often, we catch a fleeting glimpse from the corner of an eye, gone as soon as looked at. Another world communicating with us? Many of these beings cannot be captured with the lens, but many can. Mostly they’re just faces, but some are whole creatures. Animals, birds, strange gargoyles. Graceful dancers are common. Tall Ents – if you know Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings”. Beings who beckon, or give blessings. Messengers who lean forward to whisper in my ear ...

My favourites are the ancient ones. Bloody but unbowed. Survivors. Often half dead, hollowed ... hallowed. Their stories written in their forms. Oak, ash, beech, chestnut, yew, lime, alder, elm (yes there are still some elms in Britain despite Dutch elm disease) ... .

Pure anthropomorphism, perhaps. A dirty word in these days of scientific rationality. And yet, why not? Poets, philosophers and mystics down through the ages have sung the praises of trees; sung of their beauty, wisdom, love, spirit. Mythology in many cultures is full of tree beings: green men, tree spirits, fairies devas ... And trees are amongst the most ancient and enduring of spiritual symbols. The Bodhi tree under which the Buddha was enlightened. The tree on which Christ was crucified. The tree of life in the Kabbala. The sacred groves of the Druids. The Green Man. Native American traditions. 

In a more pragmatic vein, trees are important to the planet and our future in many, many ways. Regulating the atmosphere, climate, and hydrological cycle; controlling soil and coastal erosion; providing habitat for myriad other species, and stabilising many ecosystems; giving us shelter, food, timber and energy; nurturing us with their beauty, healing powers, love and wisdom; inspiring great works of literature and art.

We have learned and can learn so much from trees if only we will look and listen. Here are a few one-liners:

A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
Verily by beauty it is that we come to wisdom.
Be still, my heart, these great trees are prayers.
Love flows most through ancient trees

My tree photographs are unashamedly anthropomorphic. But not anthropocentric. They are a celebration of trees. An inducement to deeper connection, greater love. And, through this, a path to living more lightly on the Earth.

I use my favourite photo of a Green Man as my self-portrait on Zaadz. And there are a few of my other tree photos in my album. A number of Zaadsters have told me how much they like these photos, and some have encouraged me to turn them into a book. A few months ago, I created a slide show of about 40 images on DVD and showed it to about 200 people in the Universal Hall here at Findhorn. They loved it. And just before we went on holiday, 8 of these images formed part of an exhibition of Christine’s textile art – also focused on trees. They proved to be one of the biggest attractions. So now I’m wanting to make a slim volume of pictures and poetry about tree spirits. A very different project to my usual intellectual writings, but one that I hope may also contribute to creating a better future.

What is the message of the trees? The ancient ones? It is about what is important in life. About what we need – and don’t need. About Being rather than Doing. About the wisdom of the past, and building for the future. About slowing down and taking time. About growth and maturity; death, decay and renewal.

Our forebears cared for their trees, as shown by ancient coppices, pollards and other practices. And so should we. Lets step beyond utility into the faery world of the trees.

Introduction

The theory of evolution has set scientists against conservative Christians ever since Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species in 1859. Recent skirmishes reported in New Scientist magazine include:
•    A US Federal Court ruling in 2005 that the alternative theory of intelligent design, put forward by believers in creation by God, is a religious belief and should not be taught in Pennsylvania schools;
•    The distribution less than a year later of intelligent design resource packs to all secondary schools in Britain; and
•    The convening by the Pope last year of a seminar to resolve growing divisions on evolution within the Catholic Church.
This on-going war of attrition prompts several questions: Why is evolution so controversial? What is the theory of evolution, and how is it changing in the light of recent research? Is the theory really incompatible with religious belief? Or is there a middle-ground in which science and spirituality can live harmoniously together?

Why is evolution such a hot issue?

To fundamentalist Christians, the Bible is the inspired Word of God which should be interpreted literally. It tells us that God created the universe in 6 days, and some analyses of biblical texts suggest that this happened just several thousand years ago. These ‘truths’ are challenged by the idea that the cosmos and life have evolved in a continuous creative process over billions of years. Worse, most scientists seek to explain existence and life without reference to a designer or creator, thus undermining faith in God. Less directly, the religious backlash may reflect rejection of the scientific doctrine that life is a meaningless, purposeless accident. In the face of this nihilism, fundamentalism provides reassuringly certain answers to life’s big questions.

To scientists, evolution has become the final battleground on which they must defend the freedom from religious dogmatism, bigotry and intellectual repression that they have fought so hard to win over the last few centuries. There is fear of a return to the dark days when truth was determined by priestly authority rather than reason and experiment, and even, perhaps, of renewed persecution by a modern Inquisition. Sadly, in their crusading zeal scientists such as Richard Dawkins – author of The Selfish Gene and The God Delusion - often mount the platform of dogma and authority from which religion has so recently been displaced.
At one level, then, this is a turf war between rival High Priests. At another level, it’s a debate about life’s greatest questions: Who am I? Where did I come from? and Why am I here?

Evolution and Intelligent Design

As our scientific understanding grows, it seems more and more evident that evolution is a fundamental principle of the cosmos – but not necessarily in the way we currently think of it. The term is actually used in two different senses. The first refers to a gradual process of development or growth that leads to a more advanced or complex form. Thus, the universe is said to have evolved to its current state from the intense energy of the Big Bang. The second meaning relates to the biological process first described by Darwin by which species of living things change from generation to generation, leading to the emergence of new species.
In the last few decades, systems sciences have revealed that many quite simple non-living systems have the ability to organize themselves into new structures and processes. Good examples are mixtures of chemical reagents which develop spatial patterns of concentration, or ‘chemical clocks’ in which the concentration varies rhythmically over time. In such systems, tiny disturbances may be sufficient to trigger evolution to a new, but unpredictable, stable state. At the cosmic scale, self-organization led to the emergence of matter, stars and galaxies, life and consciousness in a process of continuous creation. Many scientists now believe this reflects an as-yet undiscovered ‘law of complexification’ that drives cosmic evolution.

Most controversy, however, centers on the evolution of living things, which Darwinian theory portrays as a two-stage process. First, random genetic mutations create variations amongst the organisms in a species. Second, natural selection weeds out those variants which are less well suited to their environment. In this way, new traits arise by chance that either die out or spread through the population. Individual organisms and species are powerless victims of this process.

This picture of evolution is being challenged from within science as well as by creationists. Research is revealing that organisms have considerable influence over their destiny, and continually strive to transcend their current forms and environmental constraints. It has been demonstrated that not all mutations are chance events, many arising from ‘experiments’ in which the organism switches specific genes on or off, or even modifies its own genes. And some learned behaviours actually may become encoded in the genes and be inherited by offspring – an idea that was branded as rank heresy until recently.

Similar challenges are emerging with regards to natural selection. It is now clear that, rather than being passive victims of environmental conditions, organisms actively modify their environments and pass on those changes to their offspring just as human parents may pass on the house they have built to their children. For example, countless generations of earthworms created the soil which now forms a perfect habitat for earthworms.
Further, studies of development from single cell to maturity are showing that the process is not controlled by master genes as current theory suggests, but is coordinated by self-organising processes that involve the organism’s structure, biochemistry, electromagnetic fields and environment as well as its genes and gene expression. Thus natural selection is not an all-powerful creative force as it is usually portrayed. Rather, it can do no more than select from a menu of alternatives made possible by self-organization, and then fine-tune these structures and processes.

Darwinian theory also represents natural selection as a fierce competition for survival between organisms. But organisms depend totally for their survival on being part of a harmoniously cooperative ecosystem – the interactive whole that provides their nutrition, shelter from harsh weather, conditions for reproduction and so on. From this perspective it is the most cooperative, or symbiotic, that survive, not the most competitive.

Intelligent Design theory challenges Darwinian evolution on different grounds. It focuses on characteristics of organisms that appear to be too complex to have evolved by chance, and hence require the involvement of an intelligent designer. This ‘God of the gaps’ strategy has been used by supporters of divine creation ever since Darwin’s day. And it is a story of forced retreat, step by step, as science’s understanding has increased.
Intelligent Design gains indirect support from a number of mainstream studies that have concluded there has not been enough time for random mutations and natural selection to produce life as we know it today. However, as we have seen, the emerging evolutionary science does not rely on chance and necessity but includes the active involvement of organisms themselves. It seems likely that, in time, science will be able to explain all aspects of the evolution of life – but the explanation will be very different to the simplistic Darwinian theory.

So where does this leave us? To me at least, the evidence is overwhelming that evolution is a fundamental property of the cosmos; that life has evolved, and is still evolving, in a continuing creative process; and that, far from being at the mercy of blind forces, life is substantially master of its own destiny. Does this mean that there is no room for belief in a creative God or Spirit? Far from it. By combining ancient spiritual wisdom with the insights of modern science, we can reveal a far richer and more complete picture of the cosmos.

The Ultimate Mystery and Gnostic Cosmology

In their book Jesus and the Goddess, Timothy Freke and Peter Gandy describe Gnostic beliefs about creation. The Gnostics, who were contemporaneous with the early Christians, recognised that there is a Mystery at the heart of existence; that, no matter how far back scientists trace cause and effect, there will always remain the questions: “Why is there something rather than nothing?” and “Where did that come from?”

Gnostics believed that the ultimate Mystery is One; an undivided whole that is pregnant with potential consciousness. In some indefinable way, this Mystery wanted to know itself, to become self-aware. But consciousness and self-awareness require both a knower and what is known, an observer and what is observed, a subject and object, a witness and experience. Hence, in order to know itself, the Mystery had to split into two, thus introducing duality into the primal Oneness. This has variously been described as the split between God and Goddess, Spirit and soul, One and many, Being and becoming, Eternal Perfection and evolution. This first split was followed by a cascade of further divisions through which Cosmic Consciousness brought the universe into existence, shaping the potential of the mysterious One into energy, matter, life and consciousness as we know it.

This myth suggests that the purpose of the universe is to achieve full self-awareness. What this means can be illustrated by analogy with a wheel that has a central hub connected by spokes to many separate segments of rim. Cosmic Consciousness is fully aware of itself as the hub at the centre, and of all the conscious beings in the universe represented by the segments of the rim to which it is connected by the spokes. But each segment of the rim, each separate being, is aware only of itself and the hub to which it is linked by a spoke. Complete self-knowledge would require all parts of the rim, all beings, to awaken to their true nature as integral parts of the one wheel.

The exact way in which this evolutionary goal will be achieved was left undefined by the One at creation because true self-awareness would not be possible if the nature of spirituality and the path to this cosmic goal were predetermined. There are many possible forms that cosmic self-knowledge can take, and the One left us with creative freedom to choose our own ways. 
From this Gnostic perspective, the universe is in continual creation. Rather than making the universe according to a fixed and final design, the One set in motion an exploratory, experimental process. Not only is the outcome of this process unknown, but also we and all other evolving creatures are co-creators with the One, and all matter is imbued with the Spirit and Consciousness of the One.

Conclusion

As far as we can tell, evolution is one of the most fundamental characteristics of our universe. It is a process of continual, creative change, development and transformation; a continual striving of matter and life to transcend its present state, to become something more than it is – more complex, more diverse, more conscious.

How is it that such a wonderful, creative process has come to be seen as anti-religious, non-spiritual? Evolution is a beautiful, mystical process that, for me, reveals all the wonder and power and creativity of Spirit. It is a way of creating that leaves us genuine freedom to understand the universe, and to co-create it by working with the processes and laws of nature. It reveals the hand and mind of God, whilst leaving us free to create our own myths and metaphors of the ineffable Mystery.

Over the months since I joined Zaadz, quite a few people have commented on my Green Man photo and the other tree spirits in my album. Several have suggested that I make them into a book. A few months ago I made a DVD slide show with them and showed it to about 200 Community members here at Findhorn. They loved it. Then in September my wife had an exhibition of her textile art that included some of my tree pictures. A few people on leaving said "I'll never see a tree the same again." And now, since my post about trees a couple of weeks ago, I've had more encouraging messages.

To cut a long story short, I've finally been persuaded to take the book idea seriously. The concept I'm working on is a slim, cheap but high quality volume with 20-30 photos illustrating a poem. Each opening will have a photo on one page and a line or two of the poem on the other. I hope to inspire a deeper connection with nature, and with trees in particular. If it sells, I have ideas for a series of such books.

So ... in the last little while, instead of writing more serious blog articles I've been composing the poem for this book. And I'm writing a proposal to organisations that conserve and regenerate woodlands in the UK hoping that they will support publication and marketing in return for a share of the proceeds.

I'd like to share my draft poem with you all. I haven't yet chosen the photos for inclusion in the book, and have just stuck a few in here to show the idea. Please let me know what you think. Suggestions for improvement are very welcome!



Ode to Pan

Great Pan
Green Man
Inspiration of the woods!



You reveal yourself to few
yet touch the hearts of many
with Pantheistic awe
and Panic fear
and love in a Panegyric.



Your touch is immortalised
in story and art
in ritual and in worship.
Christians buried you under the weight
of their churches and of sin
yet like the Son of God
you rose again.

Your face
long forgotten
in church and cathedral
looks down
on new pilgrims
seeking your groves.

Great Pan!
You touch my shoulder
and beckon me to your woods
where ancient trees
bespeak me as I wander.



The Deva of each species
has a quality all its own
that flows from secret places
deeper far than genes.
The maternal beech
The kingly oak
The graceful birch
The loving yew
Loving you.



Within the devic aura
dwell the spirits of each tree
taking many guises
if you’ve heart and eye to see.

Their shapes are formed by life
their features marked by time.



Watch for them in hollow boles
and the scars of boughs long gone
in swirling burls
and lightning slashes
in the texture of peeling bark.

Search them out
in pattern and colour
and lichens’ abstract art.

Or catch a glimpse
from the corner of an eye
in the play of dappling light.



These beings invite us
and incite us
to join their joyful dance
to commune and reflect
and deeply connect
with their nature spirit realm.

So with open eyes
and loving hearts
and gentle caressing hands
let’s step through the veil
of our unbelief
and meet their motley band.

I shall be at a 10 day training run by the Institute for the Study of Peak States from 26 October to 5 November. So this will be my last post until I get back. I hope by then there'll be lots of discussion on our Pod “On the Wisdom Trail" for me to respond to. Take care!

In my entry of 4th September, I wrote about strategies for creating a better future. In this one, I want to focus more on what Humanly Possible (aka Rachel) calls “the small sensible, rapidly achievable adjustments we can all make in our day to day lives that will take us, as individuals, as well as humanity as a whole, further along the wisdom trail.” Once again, I invite and challenge you to share your ideas in our Pod.

Those small, sensible changes ...

The focus of my writing tends always to be on the big picture; on strategies rather than little personal actions. But in our daily lives, Christine and I do our best to contribute in myriad little ways. There’s still plenty of room for improvement. We’re far from consistent or models of perfect Earth citizenship. We’re still, inevitably, creatures of our time and society, even if we’re on the edge in many ways.

But I don’t want to write about my personal actions. That would invite comparisons, and, as I was taught as a child, “Comparisons are odious.” And there are hundreds of web sites where you can get information and practical suggestions on what you can do, much of it repetitive and overlapping. Want to reduce your carbon footprint? Save energy? Save forests? Save indigenous peoples? Support ethical businesses? Support local organic food production? End exploitation of majority-world workers? End sex slavery? Make peace? No problem. Just follow these lists of actions ...

I don’t think I need to give examples here – I’m sure every Zaadster is aware of the possibilities and is already doing their bit. But just for completeness, here’s a sample you can skip if you wish:

•    Travel less and when you do:

o    Walk and cycle for local trips; use bus or train for longer ones.
o    Trade the SUV for a mini-Honda.
o    Holiday at home instead of flying abroad.

•    When at home:

o    Turn off lights and stand-by power.
o    Turn down the thermostat in winter and put on a sweater
o    Turn up the thermostat in summer
o    Install more insulation, and energy efficient lights and appliances
o    Wash clothes and yourself less often.
o    Get a smaller house

•    When you ‘need’ things:

o    Reuse, reduce, recycle, repair, resist advertising, and other ‘R’ words before reluctantly arriving at retail.
o    Leave excess packaging at the supermarket.
o    Watch food miles; buy at the farmers’ market or join a box scheme.
o    Compost organic wastes.

These are all vitally important, and could make a huge difference. Not only because of the impact of these particular actions, but also because of their flow-on effect to other similar actions and to our attitudes of mind. Every person who does these things becomes a model, a trendsetter, a fashion leader; helps to make it cool. 100,000 Zaadsters are a pool of cool for Gaia.

And the more our actions become visible to family, friends, neighbours and colleagues, the more powerful that lead becomes. Kids hassling parents, and peer pressure are two of the most powerful motivating forces for change.

Community Action

All the things listed above are individual actions, or family things at best. Much more is possible when we cooperate with each other, finding community solutions to common issues.

One of my favourite examples is the walking school bus, first dreamed up in Australia but now in many places. All over the rich world the dangers of road traffic and strangers have led parents to take their children to school by car. This creates congestion at school rush-hours, reduces the children’s fitness compared with walking or cycling, costs the parents a lot of time and money, creates urban pollution, and wastes a huge amount of energy.

One community alternative is the Walking School Bus. This is a group of children who are supervised by parents or adult volunteers. The adults, dressed in identifiable clothing, walk a predetermined route making stops along the way at set pick-up times. The bus can run daily or less frequently depending on the needs of the community. It is a way of building community by bringing parents and children together whilst reducing several social and environmental problems. All it takes is leadership and organization.

Where the distances are greater, parents can jointly purchase a mini-bus carrying, say, 15 children per vehicle instead of 2 or 3. Again this can greatly reduce congestion and pollution and save parents time and money, especially if it removes the need for a second or third car for some families. This is similar to the many car- and van-pooling schemes for commuters that emerged in the energy crisis of the 1970’s, but which have been largely forgotten since. Now that so many people are linked via the internet, organizing such pools is relatively simple, although there may still be legal issues in some countries around ownership and insurance. One of the most popular arrangements is for one person to be the driver in return for use of the van at other times.

Another simple way to save money and the environment is to get together with neighbours for shopping trips, especially the longer ones to out-of-town malls. If each car had four shoppers, suddenly that congested parking lot would be almost empty. And think of the fun. You’d get to know your neighbours. Instead of being stressed by the traffic, you could be talking with friends. There could be a good cup of coffee together after the shopping’s done ... And again, all it takes is organization.

What else can communities do? The potential is limited only by our imagination. A key here is ways to share ideas. Are you a computer whiz? How about organising an interactive community website and discussion forum for the locality where you live?

Important skills in building community initiatives include communication (listening as well as telling!), organisation, meeting facilitation, and conflict management. So other great ways to contribute as an individual are to:
•    Get trained in these skills, and/or
•    Lobby your local government to employ a professional community facilitator to work with neighbourhoods to help them identify and resolve issues.

Cohousing communities

This is just scratching the surface of what community cooperation can do. Perhaps the next step is cohousing, but this requires a larger commitment than organising people in a traditional neighbourhood. If you don’t already know about cohousing, take a look at the website of the Cohousing Association of the United States, or leave a comment asking me to write more about it. 

Cohousing residents actively participate in the design and operation of their own neighborhoods, and are committed to living as a community. Most are custom built, but others are created by adapting existing buildings or residences in urban settings.

Cohousing communities are usually 20 – 40 homes along one or more pedestrian streets or clustered around a courtyard. Regardless of the size of the community, such designs provide many opportunities for casual meetings between neighbors, as well as for deliberate gatherings such as celebrations, clubs and business meetings.

The common house is the social center, where optional shared meals are served at least two or three times a week. The common house usually has a large dining room and kitchen, lounge, recreational facilities, children’s spaces, and frequently a guest room, workshop and laundry room. These common facilities reduce the need for every home to have them, and so houses are typically smaller than normal and individual ownership of appliances, machines and tools is less.

“The need for community members to take care of common property builds a sense of working together, trust and support. Because neighbors hold a commitment to a relationship with one another, almost all cohousing communities use consensus as the basis for group decision-making.

In a cohousing community, you know who lives six houses down because you eat common meals with them, decide how to allocate homeowners dues and gratefully accept a ride from them when your car’s in the shop. You begin to trust them enough to leave your 4-year-old with them. You listen to what they have to say, even if you don’t agree with them at first, and you sense that you, too, are being heard.”
(Quote from the Cohousing Association of the United States website)

******

I think we would all be amazed how fast the world would change if more of us got together like this. All it takes is the willingness to talk to family, friends and neighbours, and to start organizing.

Please share your ideas on our Pod.