Oh, and one more thing... as you lived in Montréal, you can relate. Our house on Pine Ave W is a stone’s throw from the Mountain, where I love to walk on my own, along the snake up to the chalet/lookout. Never have these walks not been therapeutic in that I have never felt alone, or unaccompanied. I always return full, and by that i mean completely satiated. Because I sometimes head out with a full head...full of thoughts engaged in a scuffle of sorts, but it doesn’t take but a few moments on the path with trees on both sides, before the scuffle quiets, and thoughts retreat, and listening commences. Perhaps because of the proximity of the mountain (literally across the street, therefore, always available) and the demands of caregiving (my mother) and work, I would awake in the morning with every intention to “go for a walk on the mountain!” but never end up following through. Weeks would go by and each night I’d promise, tomorrow I’ll walk.
This past February, I fell coming off a 6pp chairlift in Vail and suffered a painful TPF (didn’t even know what this was until then!) and for the next three months, not only could I not even entertain the notion of going for a mountain walk, I couldn’t even make it from the bed to the bathroom without crutches or a walker. Silver linings (yes, you know I’ll always find them!) were many but none quite as impactful as the realization that I had taken for granted the greatest gift right outside my door: Mount Royal. I had always praised myself for being able to live in the moment (like our cats), going with the flow, listening for the day’s direction and following along. But the balance was off. Unless on deadline, discipline and structure evaded me - or rather, i avoided both like enemies. But let’s call it what it was: procrastination.
Sorry, this comment has a life of its own... all this to say, I will never take walking, or the Mountain across the street, for granted again. I never thought I had done, but obv that’s exactly what I’d been doing.
At just over four months in recovery, I am at last able to walk for about twenty minutes before using a cane for extra support. The other day, I went as far as the lower part of the snake (paid the price of a swollen/stuff knee yesterday) but today, I will go again. And the next day, I’ll aim to do the same, and so on. (Daily walking is crucial exercise if i want to ski again!)
Today though, I will also go with the express intention of seeking out a tree with which to converse...or, is it dialog?
Update: I did go walking the next day and was telling my Mike about your post and Herve...and the trees. At one point early on, I paused for a bit and knew exactly which of the dozens of trees had something to say -- to me. I looked up. It was broken. On one side was the stump of a huge branch that had been mechanically severed. We counted two steel bolts drilled into its massive girth of the main trunk. Above it soared...amid several canopies of green maple leaves. I felt an immediate connection, I could relate. And so I approached and for the first time in my entire life, i hugged a tree. It was the start of what I hope will be a long relationship. 🥰
Omg how much did I LOVE reading this?! Of course, that alone tells you how much I feel aligned with Hervé’s thinking. I extracted two quotes, which I thought might have ended up in the comments section here but I don’t see them. When I find them, I’ll try to post as comments here. Regardless, thank you for sharing this interview 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻❤️
Oh, and one more thing... as you lived in Montréal, you can relate. Our house on Pine Ave W is a stone’s throw from the Mountain, where I love to walk on my own, along the snake up to the chalet/lookout. Never have these walks not been therapeutic in that I have never felt alone, or unaccompanied. I always return full, and by that i mean completely satiated. Because I sometimes head out with a full head...full of thoughts engaged in a scuffle of sorts, but it doesn’t take but a few moments on the path with trees on both sides, before the scuffle quiets, and thoughts retreat, and listening commences. Perhaps because of the proximity of the mountain (literally across the street, therefore, always available) and the demands of caregiving (my mother) and work, I would awake in the morning with every intention to “go for a walk on the mountain!” but never end up following through. Weeks would go by and each night I’d promise, tomorrow I’ll walk.
This past February, I fell coming off a 6pp chairlift in Vail and suffered a painful TPF (didn’t even know what this was until then!) and for the next three months, not only could I not even entertain the notion of going for a mountain walk, I couldn’t even make it from the bed to the bathroom without crutches or a walker. Silver linings (yes, you know I’ll always find them!) were many but none quite as impactful as the realization that I had taken for granted the greatest gift right outside my door: Mount Royal. I had always praised myself for being able to live in the moment (like our cats), going with the flow, listening for the day’s direction and following along. But the balance was off. Unless on deadline, discipline and structure evaded me - or rather, i avoided both like enemies. But let’s call it what it was: procrastination.
Sorry, this comment has a life of its own... all this to say, I will never take walking, or the Mountain across the street, for granted again. I never thought I had done, but obv that’s exactly what I’d been doing.
At just over four months in recovery, I am at last able to walk for about twenty minutes before using a cane for extra support. The other day, I went as far as the lower part of the snake (paid the price of a swollen/stuff knee yesterday) but today, I will go again. And the next day, I’ll aim to do the same, and so on. (Daily walking is crucial exercise if i want to ski again!)
Today though, I will also go with the express intention of seeking out a tree with which to converse...or, is it dialog?
Again, thank you!
Update: I did go walking the next day and was telling my Mike about your post and Herve...and the trees. At one point early on, I paused for a bit and knew exactly which of the dozens of trees had something to say -- to me. I looked up. It was broken. On one side was the stump of a huge branch that had been mechanically severed. We counted two steel bolts drilled into its massive girth of the main trunk. Above it soared...amid several canopies of green maple leaves. I felt an immediate connection, I could relate. And so I approached and for the first time in my entire life, i hugged a tree. It was the start of what I hope will be a long relationship. 🥰
How delicious to read this Anthea. I am currently in New York, feeling very urban AND feeling the need for Earth and Trees.
It’s amazing how nature — and animals — can remind us of the power of being present.
Omg how much did I LOVE reading this?! Of course, that alone tells you how much I feel aligned with Hervé’s thinking. I extracted two quotes, which I thought might have ended up in the comments section here but I don’t see them. When I find them, I’ll try to post as comments here. Regardless, thank you for sharing this interview 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻❤️
I can’t wait to read this. Thank you!
It's a long one, but lots of nuggets within!