Altered reality

I don’t drink very much and since I have been on keto, I have even less.

Maybe a glass of wine here and there to be sociable.

Yesterday, Stephen and I started the day off with a walk down the beach, intending to visit the hall afterwards, where a Matariki market day was taking place. However, after the walk, I felt tired and unwell and instead, settled onto the couch to relax.

The morning was gloomy which turned to heavy rain in the afternoon. It felt nice being able to remain inside and not having to battle the elements for any reason.

It was later that Stephen produced a bottle of wine and I thought, why not? I don’t have to be anywhere or do anything. Why not have a glass? Or two, or three.

When one doesn’t have a lot of alcohol, the effects are felt so much more intensely and it wasn’t long before I was drunk, with this realisation coming in waves between totally out of it periods. It was time to solve the mysteries of the world.

As I lay on the couch, I observed four trees on the neighbour’s far boundary, trees I had noticed, but not really seen before. They were, I assumed, of the yuka family, with long slender trunks supporting a busy outcrop of leaves.

But as I looked at these trees, I saw they were connected to the trees on my deck - cabbage and ponga ones. Although I couldn’t actually see the stands joining them together, I knew they were there. Suddenly I became aware of the connectiveness of all the trees outside, seeing these neighbour’s ones as part of a huge amphitheatre that included every tree in the vicinity.

I was now viewing life through the eyes and perspective of the trees, rather through my own eyes. I saw our house as an inconvenient blip coming between these trees; in their way. Often, we feel a tree needs to be removed because it is blocking our sun or view or whatever, but what I saw at this time was that we do the same to the trees; block their sun, block their view or their connections to their fellow trees. In this moment, I saw the trees as the ones that belonged, and we as the intruders.

I have planted my own garden with things I enjoy – lots of hibiscus for their colour for example. I guess many of the surrounding trees were placed there in the same way; planted for enjoyment, shelter or privacy or perhaps self-sown with the aid of the birds or winds.

Once created though, these are alive, and connect with each other, joining in their own community, that we as humans, cohabit.

Waking up this morning, without a hangover I must add, I look out at the olive tree that caught so much of my attention yesterday. It was through its eyes that I saw our house as interfering in its life. Today it is just the same olive tree it has always been. I look over at the yuka type trees on the neighbour’s boundary and they are just as they always are too. But somehow there is a new awareness, that was not there before. I have always enjoyed being in nature. Now, when I cross a path between one tree and the next, I will endeavour to feel what is between them because they have shown me their secret. And I know, that they know, that I know. No excuse now.