As the year draws to a close, we are all looking forward to the Christmas retreat and reunion with relatives and family. Those that still have parents will be reconnecting with their source. It is times like these that throw me to the many discussions I have had with my father. A nature loving person, a great teacher through metaphors, and a sage in his own right.
He would turn any discussion on nature into a teaching moment, and I realised later when the lesson manifested itself in real life experience. Most of his lessons were about being impactful without being conspicuous, being great without suffocating the capacity of others to be big in your greatness, and being simple in your complexity. Delivered through the medium of his vernacular his wisdom could draw from the indigenous philosophy captured through his impeccable relationship with nature and all its healing properties.
The conversation was about the plant that covers the most ground wherever it has grown. He was teaching me about grass, and we were busy cutting it at our small garden in Mamelodi ko Pitori. He showed me the biggest tree, the longest tree, and the fruitful trees around.
On the tallest tree he told me of its relationship with the winds that blow it on its top sections. He explained to me the sanctuary it give to birds and other species that can live inside it, especially where the wind blows the most. He described how such a tree grows to its upward length, and how many years it took it to be there. In many instances, he would explain, how intriguing it was that the tree would end up being upright and symmetrical.
What he would be quick to explain to me is to observe the many uses of the tree, and notably its shade providing one. He would show the ground it covered as a tree, and the reach of its roots where we can see. He would draw a relationship between the size and tallness of the tree with the possible depth and reach of its root system. In this lesson he would show how such a tree has to allow only the weak to grow around it, and on it. I marvelled at how he told the stories of these trees fighting for territory and yet growing in a harmony that exudes only peace.
The crux of his lesson would be centred on the ground that the tree covers as it grows upwards. Whilst the root system stretches wider to find balance of what it carries, it does so by being in the ground and not covering it. What would be saddest of this interaction is when Papa explained how quick this tall tree could be taken down. He would tell that a tree that took more than fifty years to reach its ultimate potential could be cut to size in less than three hours. It could be uprooted by other natural occurrences in few minutes, and once it is down it is out as part of its natural environment.
He taught that it would take an equal number of years to grow another one, and those that lived in the shadow of a cut or fallen tree will take more time to get the exact shadow, if they come to what is close to what it could give as shade, their time as humanity to exit the natural environment might be up. The next uses of the tree would depend on who finds it in its no-life form, if a sculptor arrives first it would exist as what come of it as the sculptor imagined, if an artist saw it before it went down it will exist as an image into posterity, if energy as fire dependent person arrives first it will be converted into energy form for the time it takes it to burn, and if a carpenter arrives first it will become furniture and shelter.
Yet, my father would repeat, the tree covers a tiny circumference of the ground it has grown on. He would then pause and greet passing neighbours, and drink some beverage or water, whistling as he takes a pause or break during the lesson. After a while he would draw my attention to the grass.
He showed me how short a plant it is. How shallow its root system is. How meshed the roots are to keep its consistency of continued growth. How cutting it to its shortest size is important for its beauty to be seen and enjoyed. How cutting it requires walking or trampling on it. How what is cut of it is a key fertiliser to it. As a life form, grass covers the widest ground, it holds together the most of what it covers.
In this swing of my on-the-grass whilst cutting it lesson, he tells me of how grass replenishes itself faster when it is cut, how organised it grows when it is cut, how the continuous cutting grass guarantees its feed role to other animals. The trees that cover the little circumference find greater importance if grass is covering the ground around them for their shade gets to be of amusement use. Its capacity to become its original self after watering and cleaning makes it one of the shortest and yet resilient plants.
At the end of the discussion he would say, whilst it is important to grow into a tall tree, and be able to be seen from far, to be known for the shade you are or can be, to be the image that could be drawn and curated as art, or be transformed into elegant furniture, you should work hard to be more of grass as a person. As grass your pieces will cover more ground in further places, your waste is food to others in ways you tree nature might not be able to. He would then conclude by emphatically saying, be like grass as you tree yourself for the world. Touch all as you cover territory. Be available for grazing by herds that are destined for the abattoir, be the park for amusement, be the playing ground for the great to shine and be cheered, and be the compost for others when thrown out of the garden. Be the grass for the many insects that live inside you. If well maintained all will come to, onto, by, and on you in order to leave you the quiet green and fresh you, you will always be.
Now you understand why, I remember this sage and teacher of mine. He is still the grass that he said I should be in my mind. Nature has become my greatest school because of him. Rest in honour Madyatshamile.
🤷🏽♂️that was khalanga
🤷🏽♂️a ndzo ti tsundzukela va Papa, motswari
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