A few years back, not far removed from my first stay at a mental-health facility, I found myself chanting these words – “roots in ground, body in trunk, spirit in sky” – over and over while under the crown of a huge sugar maple in my favorite local cemetery. The air was still and oppressive. I sat there in my silly cycling attire in a meditative pose.
Trying to come to grips with my recent experience, I sought solace in the trees. A lifelong tree guy, I had always been a confident fellow, a necessary trait for any aspiring aerial worker. I now found myself shaken to my foundations, unclear how to move forward.
Mental health continues to be a huge problem in the workplace. Depression is ranked among the top workplace problems for human-resource professionals. Approximately 16.2 million American adults have had at least one major episode in a given year. More than 10 million experience an episode that results in severe impairment. Hello!
The stigma of depression still persists. Oftentimes, an individual will not seek treatment for fear of the effect it may have on their job, or concerns about confidentiality. Depression is a strange animal. Those suffering often appear to have it all together, while chaos ensues within.
Five common signs of depression are:
- persistent low mood;
- loss of interest in things you once enjoyed;
- feelings of worthlessness;
- poor concentration; and
- thoughts of harming yourself.
None of these conditions are exactly recipes for success in life, and all are potentially lethal in the business of tree care.
Fortunately, our culture is finally recognizing the seriousness of this issue. If you are or someone close to you is experiencing the above symptoms, organizations such as NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) are there to help.
Reading Peter Wohlleben’s Hidden Life of Trees was both affirmative and mind opening. Trees communicate, feel, react and plan. It’s just waaay slower. Think the “Ents” in Lord of the Rings. Tolkien understood.
The air in the forest is often healthier. As much as 20,000 tons of particulates per square mile are removed by leaves and needles. Particulates from human activities are the most harmful, and much of that is filtered out by trees. They also emit their own materials, exchanging phytoncides and scent “messages.” Phytoncide (phyton = plant, cide = exterminate), or the “aroma of the forest,” is emitted to help protect against insects and disease.
Recent studies in forest therapy validate what many longtime woodland trekkers have long known; time spent in the forest is beneficial to one’s health. A study in Japan compared health indicators of 280 adults on days spent in forest versus urban settings. Lower blood pressure and heart rate, increased parasympathetic nerve rates (relaxation) and lower sympathetic rates (fight or flight) were observed during time spent in the forest. Lower blood-sugar levels, better concentration and diminished pain also have been reported.
In a study on immunity, researchers found that woodland walking decreased the level of stress hormones and increased the number of anti-cancer proteins in the body. Essential oils released from trees are believed to be at least partially responsible for the benefits gained.
In studies performed in the Netherlands and Japan, trees were found to enhance mood and improve self-esteem.
None of this surprised me. An avid camper in my youth, I’ve spent many a moon under the protection of tree canopies, from giant sequoia to alpine-stunted spruce, towering white pine to elegant live oak. While a few forests definitely felt unwelcoming, or even malevolent, the majority exuded a vibe that would “sing me sweet and sleepy, all the way back home” (Brokedown Palace, Garcia/Hunter).
I sat quietly under the maple’s speckled canopy, channeling the solid, extensive root system. Life teemed quietly below with myriad of living, breathing life forms. A handful of soil may contain more living organisms than there are people on earth. The roots explore, share information and maintain direct relations with the soil fungi and other fauna.
Impressive buttress roots join the above- and below-ground parts. The solid trunk rises to meet the challenge of supporting an enormous, dynamic load. A new skin of conductive tissue forms annually, and stressed areas are identified and reinforced.
Scaffold limbs cantilever outward, defying gravity and extending to lengths beyond our engineering capabilities. The crown fluctuates from light-gathering, photosynthetic marvel to aerodynamic shapeshifter in high winds, minimizing the harmonic sway of the trunk that can lead to failure.
Based on signals from its foundation (the roots), cytokines travel upward and stimulate apical growth. The tree continues to grow and explore new frontiers and spaces. Auxins (produced in the tree crown) will stymie shoot growth and promote root growth as environmental conditions dictate.
Trees: Strong, not rigid. Rooted, not sedentary. Secure, not repressed. All efforts are centered on symmetry. No one part is more essential than another. They do not act irrationally or without intent. Deliberate in their communications within and without their physical realm, they learn from experience, live in the present and plan for the future. They suffer without regret and thrive without arrogance. As I myself descend into senescence, I take solace in their integrity and am forever grateful for their unspoken words of wisdom.
I sat under the shade and tried to take it in. My mental health was still tenuous, but I seemed to have come to some kind of agreement or acceptance. I would rely on my foundation to hold me in space. I would support my trunk as needed to weather the stresses. I would extend my shoots when conditions were favorable and strengthen my roots in times of turmoil.
I am fortunate to have come out the other side of an unbearable darkness, and am grateful for the unspoken lessons accessible from the silent witnesses to our human foibles. They are sentient beings, and we have much to learn.
Howard Gaffin, BCMA, RCA and Massachusetts Certified Arborist, is owner of Gaffin Tree & Landscaping, a 10-year TCIA member company located in Rowley, Massachusetts.
