maybe we are all one tree

when i sit beneath a tree, i sometimes feel as though its branches are extensions of my own mind — like my neuronal pathways stretching beyond my skull and into the physical world. it’s as if, in that moment, i am bootstrapping my consciousness to something vast, a natural VR device that expands my sense of self beyond the usual boundaries.

but what, exactly, is a tree? it’s a lifeform that exists both above and below the ground, fractal-like in its structure, always growing in all directions it can. like life’s many possibilities — the avenues we might take, the directions we could grow in if we choose to.

look closely at any tree, and you’ll notice not only the twigs and stems pushing steadily outward but also the small nooks and scars where branches once tried to grow but didn’t. in spring, new growth seems to emerge with divine randomness, yet always in harmony with the tree’s inherent design — sprouting outward from the very tips.

to me, this is deeply reassuring. it reminds me that there’s no need to dwell on paths that didn’t unfold or opportunities that led to dead ends. like a tree, life continues to branch out in infinite directions, always moving forward.

and though we don’t see the roots beneath, we know they mirror the growth above, supporting the branches as they reach for the sky. the tree’s underground network nourishes its visible form, just as the leaves and branches feed the roots by producing flowers, fruit, and seeds that return to the earth, creating new life in turn.

in a way, what we call a tree is really just another branch of the vast, interconnected system of roots below. perhaps all of life is one great tree, with visible and hidden aspects, each supporting the whole. i like to think of myself as a part of this overground tree, with an unseen network growing within me. even this act of writing might simply be another sprout at the budding edge of the tree’s thought.

maybe we are all one tree. i’d be okay with that. maybe that’s why sitting beneath a tree feels so peaceful — because in grounding ourselves between earth and sky, we reconnect with what we truly are: a branch of life’s infinite unfolding.