L'Arbre à Plumes

The ephemeral tree. 

 

According to an Indian legend,  in the beginning the Great Spirit slumbered in nothingness. In him the dream awoke and in the night he dreamed the light. 

This was the very first dream. 

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Dreams beget other dreams. In turn, the light began to dream. She was ether, she dreamed of matter. This is how the Earth appeared. Mother Earth. 

This was the second dream. 

For centuries, the Earth shaped the landscape, creating mountains and ores. Gold and crystal appeared. Then they too began to dream. They were so pure, so hard that they dreamed of tenderness, suppleness and fragility. Thus appeared the flower.

This was the third dream. 

But the flower grows. She gave birth to berries, fruits, trees. Of course, trees are dreamy. They, so rooted in the Earth, dreamed of running free.

This was the fourth dream. [1]

 

Trees are the memory of our ancestors, they carry within them the songs and legends of the world.  Trees are made of the sap of dreams, drawing strength from their roots in each of our actions . They are the carriers of seeds so that here and now our story begins. 

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“True friends are like trees

They reach out their arms, don't bend

They climb towards the light

That's what makes them happy."

True friends are like trees— Julos Beaucarne

 

The trees of our countries are healers, bearers of hope. As far as my memories take me, as far as the wind tells me, in every village square, often in front of the church, stands a tree. This is where we gather, where we love each other, where we offer our first kisses. It is under the tree that we render justice or announce the great moments of life. A palaver tree in Africa, it becomes a place of sages. 

 

If you walk towards Mons, near the Chêne du Pouilleux, or if a lime tree near Liège is covered with nails, it means that somewhere, towards the end of the Middle Ages, in our country, in Belgium, there were nail trees. They healed you from harm, if you rubbed the nail on the diseased part and stuck it in the trunk.  Thanks to its roots going so deep into the earth, the tree had the power to send evil back to hell.

 

Closer to home, in Walloon Brabant, we had swapped nails for rags and the landscape was made up of “Tree-tree”. These shaman trees, surrounded by threads and fabrics, streaked with colors and prayers, had the mission of healing, of transforming ailments. 

 

Trees have always prayed. 

It's their job. 

 

Once upon a time, not so long ago, very close to here, in Tourinnes-la-Grosse, there was a majestic chestnut tree. It sat enthroned like all the trees of this presence on the forecourt facing the church, the school and the cemetery. It was decided it was time to cut it. For what ? I don't know, that's not the point. What I remember however, is that all the friends, all the neighbors protested, to save the tree. Nothing helped, the fate of the chestnut tree was sealed ! 

 

During the last days of the tree, people came from all over to celebrate, honor and thank him. The chestnut tree, moved by so much solicitude, began to pray, to dream.

He asked Mother Earth to help him transform this beautiful energy. Since he could not survive, may he, like a phoenix, rise from the ashes. Mother Earth tells the tree to speak to the fairies. 

 

Surely you no longer believe in fairies? Yet they exist ! Of course, not in the form of a pink dragonfly, equipped with a magic wand and decked out in a ridiculous skirt made of leaves.

 

Fairies dwell in our hearts. Although invisible, they awaken each time we call them by their first name. They are called courage, benevolence, hope, solidarity. It is pointless to count them as there are so many. They realize only the wishes of the heart and to fulfill them, they fly away. It's important to let go : a trapped fairy will be of no use to you ! Obviously, since they have a character of their own, they only do it their way and wishes sometimes take unexpected forms ! Something always changes when you sincerely want it. The Tree of Tourinnes begged the fairies to come back to tell its stories, to always be a bearer of love and healing. On the morning of December 19, 2007, the fairies flew away as the tree fell. of their beloved tree. 

 

 

"Even cut trees pray" Julos

 

This is how my friends, the tree came back ! 

There are on Earth,  short-lived flowers that grow and bear fruit in a day. The mischievous fairies  had decided to answer the tree in this way :  it could each year, around the beginning of autumn come back for 5 days.  The time to bloom, to give its seeds and its legends, before disappearing again.

 

The wind rose. 

We heard singing : 

Was it the fairies, the tree itself?

“5 days to listen and understand, 

5 days to bud and come together again,

5 days to turn into fruits bursting with hope, 

5 days to receive the seeds, collect them and replant them, 

5 days to give everyone the energy for a new start. »

 

The wind carried this song to the other trees, which in turn transmitted it to the birds, then to the children, then to the sages. Legends and tales are transmitted in this way. This is why it was announced that on September 19 (hey, another 19), all the wise men and the bearers of dreams would gather around the tree that came out of the open ground. 

 

Autumn was coming. It was September 19. 

 

On the first day at sunrise sun, the sky was adorned with yellow.

The earth opened up and the tree  grew.

 

We saw coming from the 4 horizons, those who had heard the call of the wind. Came on foot, on horseback, by bicycle or aboard new means of locomotion, they mounted their yurts, their tipis tiny houses all different, light as feathers, streaked with colors. The travelers were so happy to meet again, to share their knowledge. They discussed their way of living, of moving, of dressing.  They learned so much from each other. They wanted to continue the journey so as not to forget what they had learned. They had a big party that night around the tree to make a promise. Everyone, in memory of the color of dawn, tied a yellow fabric to a branch , symbol of their commitment. 

In a big book of promises, everyone wrote what they promised to do. 

 

In the night, we saw the fairies se tinterde jaune. 

 

On the second day at sunrise sun, the sky was adorned with bleu. 

The tree sprouted. 

 

Children and elders mingled in the party. They talked about what they dreamed of for themselves and their loved ones, for their health, of the need to transform oneself internally. They invented new technologies and ways to communicate in a human, sustainable and harmonious way. It was unclear which of the young or the wise had learned the most, but in the evening, near the big tree, they celebrated. 

 

So as not to forget what they had learned, to keep dreaming, in memory of this blue dawn, everyone tied a piece of fabric bleu to a branch, symbol of their commitment._cc781905-5cde-3194- bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ 

In the big book of promises, they all wrote down what they promised to do. 

 

In the night, we saw the fairies ringing de bleu. 

 

On the third day, at sunrise , the sky turned red. 

The tree is blooming.

 

All those who had worked hard during the week in the offices, companies and in the houses found themselves to rest and also begin to dream of a liberated company, of a world of work of another paradigm. They discussed what they had already discovered, the circular economy, self-governance and many other things. The most important thing was to discover that they could be partners rather than competitors. They learned so much from each other. They wanted to keep dreaming. Not to lose anything, they too had a big party in the evening around the tree, with all those who were already there to make a promise. So everyone, in memory of the red dawn, tied a red cloth to one of the branches, a symbol of their commitment. 

In the big book of promises, they all wrote down what they promised to do. 

 

In the night, we saw the fairies se tinterde rouge. 

 

On the fourth day, at sunrise  the sky turned green. 

The tree bore fruit. 

 

Together, they wanted to share a huge picnic around the lake. The men of the earth who had heard the trees speak joined the party to pass on their practice of a living  diet and in harmony with the Earth. There are so many innovative ways to eat while respecting our planet. It was a festival of flavors and happiness. Never in the memory of a tree have so many joys and songs been known. When evening came, they too had learned so much that they wanted to continue dreaming, so as not to forget. Around the tree, with all those who were already there, in memory of the dawn so green, everyone tied a green cloth to a branch.

In the big book of promises, everyone wrote down what they promised to do. 

 

In the night, we saw the fairies se tinterde vert. 

 

On the last day, at sunrise  the sky was golden. 

The tree was ready.

 

This last day was to be a new beginning. The tree itself, which had been celebrated, which had witnessed so many beautiful impulses, so many initiatives, wanted to offer its sap, a little of its knowledge. 

All around him, new energy vibrated, all had eyes full of stars. 

The ledger of promises had recorded all the actions to be performed. 

 

One by one, reconciled men and women, in homage of love, offered the tree a golden fabric, symbol of this new energy.

On the last page of the ledger of promises, all pledged to return each year. 

 

And in the night, we saw the fairies  tinkle with gold. 

 

Finally to all, gathered around him, the tree, before disappearing, gave its seeds to reinvent the new society. He left happy to have offered everyone a break to discuss, reflect and act in conscience, thanks to the creative force of their common transition. He prayed that tomorrow would be a witness to their actions, and that it would all begin now

 

ÓThe Feathered Tree

Written by Barbara Dauwe

For the Festival Now !

Thanks to the inspiration of each and everyone. 

 

 

 

[1](Freely inspired by 5erêve- Patrice Van Eersel)