Reclaiming The 'No Pain' State Of Homeostasis

The beautiful Beech Tree that blessed me and I it.

On my morning walk I breathed with the trees. I particularly feel deep peace in my body when I look upwards into their branches, their canopies, and into the blue sky beyond. Deep peace. The 'No Pain' State Of Homeostasis. (That experience (not just human) when needs are acknowledged and understood.) Re-membering my belonging to the wild things where there is no separation. Reclamation of the interconnectedness that was ruptured in my childhood. When standing under the canopy of this tree I heard the phrase "We are Regal". And this resonated with something majestic powerful and healing in the experience. And then I heard a request; "Tell them we are Regal", so here I am telling you. The body of this tree, it's bare branches were lit up by the sun and I was filled with inner warmth. And when I touched it's bark, it's body was warm. When I walked out from under the canopy of this tree and continued my walk, I felt other trees call me, and so I stood under and drank in their beautiful peace. Perhaps they need me to meet them as much as I need to be with them? The earth is longing for our wholehearted presence.

Is this the gift of life in return for the softening of and compassionately warming through and integration of my nervous system? Easing the ancient protective ancestral reactivity and allowing myself to feel, and to be fully human in that moment. Is my ancestral line asking this of me? Perhaps this is a gift received through my willingness to trust the call of my body, to meet the ground of my reality, how ever painful that descent into grief and loss may be?

And next to this experience, an adult pushing a child in a pram looks at their phone while they do so. I fear we are truly lost, and wonder about when the point of return will happen, if it will happen in my life time (don't think so) or if we have passed it even? Have we moved so far away from our sensitivity, that we must now discover love through arrival into ourselves, that perhaps all the human outer exploration (including putting our machinery on Mars!) has alienated us from our own species, our humanity, and destroyed most of what we touch as a result?

I wonder how I can continue to live through and with the gracious gift of this sensitivity and survive human contact in the culture I live in with its black and white, good and bad, positive and negative, fixing, judging, advice giving, power over modality. I don't know, and yet, I will continue to reclaim my homeostasis in whatever ways I can, even as it separates me at times from some of my fellow humans. And so I take my walks without my glasses on, my eyes seeing as they were made to see, and wait patiently at this threshold for the revelation.

I leave you with a poem 'Lost' by David Wagoner, I have loved this a long time, heard it first recited by David Whyte. It helps me to enter a state of holy resignation, and gives me a true sense of the order of things, i.e. that humans come last. He based this poem on teachings the North West Coast Indian Elders gave their children if they got lost in the forest. The trees in those parts reach heights so that when you stand among them you can no longer see the sky to find your direction.

The Oak Tree I am in love with.


Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you. If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here. No two trees are the same to Raven. No two branches are the same to Wren. If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you, You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows Where you are. You must let it find you.

Clare O'Sullivan


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