In Your Skin

Lifehouse

The Man Who Planted Trees

In a gentle way you can shake the world.

Gandhi

I saw an extraordinary film about the life of Elzeard Bouffier, a humble shepherd who turned a wilderness into a lush forest. In a lifetime spanning two World Wars, while madmen killed each other for worldly power, this individual quietly and anonymously brought his world back to life, planting one acorn at a time. He not only created natural beauty, but contributed to healing an entire town that had fallen into despair?one man, working gently, living day to day seeding love wherever he went.

Each of us has a forest we can plant to bring our world back to life. Our trees may not be spruces; they may be children, songs, art, ideas, massage, repairs, writing, or any other gift that comes to us and through us.

What impressed me most about Elzeard Bouffier was the humility with which he conducted his forestry ministry. He was silent most of the time, he did not seek acknowledgment and never asked anyone to follow him. He simply knew what he had to do and went about the business of doing it.

I met Scott and Helen Nearing, the famous couple who initiated the back-to-the-land movement in the 1930s. Although the Nearings had well-paying jobs and comfortable city lives, they moved to the mountains of Vermont, grew organic food, heated with wood, and nurtured their land. At the time, they were laughed at and criticized. Now they are considered pioneers and virtual saints. I asked Helen, “How do you feel now that so many are doing what you began? ”

“It’s wonderful, ” Helen answered, “but that’s not why we did it. We did what we had to because it was right for us. If no one else ever followed, it would have been just as right. ”

What is your forest? How can you bring your world back to life? Begin today, one acorn at a time.

I pray to restore my world with color and beauty.

I bring my world to life.

This meditation is an excerpt from Alan Cohen's meditation book, "A Deep Breath of Life".

Where The Sidewalk Ends

 There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins,

And there the grass grows soft and white,

And there the sun burns crimson bright,

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

And the dark street winds and bends.

Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow

We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And watch where the chalk-white arrows go

To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,

For the children, they mark, and the children, they know

The place where the sidewalk ends.

Shel Silverstein



Street Song Serenade