The Queen of the Forest

What I learned in the Forest--what a single, majestic Tree taught me

I think it is fair to say, I am in school once again. After having completed work and obtaining degrees in university, Grad School, Seminary and Divinity school, I am finding myself back in school. My greening is continuing—now inviting me to learn and study and dig deeper.

I signed up last week for a course called, “Writing in the Wilderness.” The picture you see is an AI generated picture, the PhD course teacher created and pretty much shows the setting of my seminar. Fascinating isn’t it—what AI offers us?

We went into the woods and sat by a waterfall, two miles from my house, surrounded by the trees of the forest and a few forest critters. There, we were taught and coached to become very, very, very still. We were instructed to find one element of nature that seemed to draw us—if not, beg us—for our attention—devotion even, if you will. It took me five seconds, at most, to be captured by a massive tree—the largest in the forest.

If you’re familiar with the story of Moses in Exodus 3 “seeing” the burning bush—well, maybe it was kind of like his experience—an experience I often have talked about and written about in coaching others how to become curious. This time, I was the one being coached. I was the one invited to take my shoes off when I felt like I was on the “holy ground”.

I sat down by the tree. Opened my writing pad, along with the instructions and I began to write. Without hesitation, I wrote the first line: “Your Majesty.” I could not help it. It just came out and I chose not to edit myself nor edit any line that followed.

Here’s my setting—this is the image I took:

She was the Mother Tree, the life-giver of many of the smaller trees around her trunk. She was huge. Glorious and filled with splendor.

So, here is what I saw… The Queen of the Forest.

Can you see her?

Do you sense her Majesty?

We had one hour to write and then we came back together and each of us read what we had been invited to write. The teacher called upon me to be the first to read. I took a deep breath—read, slowly, every so slowly to make sure of the words I was given to write. One of the fellow students looked at me and asked, “Did that all just flow out of you as you sat before that tree?” I said “Yes." When I read the last line of the poem, there was an audible groan from my collective classmates. They all felt like—that last line simply said it all and said it best. See what you think…

Perhaps her roots are reaching you—asking you to be cherished by going outside today and observing her way in the world with one of her tree children. Maybe—just maybe, her seeds have been taken to you by the wind or a bird or opossum.

---

To prepare me for this one day of class in the forest, I read two books which I’d highly recommend to you:

The Hidden Life of Trees and his sequel: The Hidden Life of Trees both by Peter Wohllenben.

READ ABOUT My New Web Based Cohort beginning in September-May 2025.

Here’s some news: In the fall, I plan on inviting you, as Subscribers to my Substack, to join me in a monthly “class”—a monthly time of learning. I’ve asked my dear friend, Peter Ivey to join me in Co-Leading our Zoom time. 90 minutes once a month. In this time, we will use a poem from a book, which all participants will be asked to order and have and use this one poem in a Lectio—slow reading way—to open our ears and hearts to the wisdom we can gain together. Together, we will be a learning “co-hort”. Peter Ivey and I co-authored our book, “Solo: Creating Space with God” and we also together created the online tool, “The State of My Soul”-an easy tool to discern the health of your soul. Peter lives in Asheville, a few mountains away from me. He’s young, emerging and a gifted spiritual director and leader of an wilderness ministry called, THRIVE.

There will be some caring.

There will be some curiosity.

There will be a cohort together of learning and exploring.

I’m going to call it “3 C Group: Caring, Curiosity and Cohort”.

This will be a soul care group and one needed as we live through and in turbulent times together.

Stay tuned. Registration will open next week. It will be limited to 25 people. As the Substack community, you’ll be given first dibs on signing up for your space. We’ll meet every month for nine months—at the same time every month. 90 minutes. More details and registration will be offered next week on my Substack. There will be a fee to be in the 9 monthly sessions of the cohort. The price will be $249. The required text will be an additional fee and you will order this one book on your own and it will be the only text we use. Articles we use together will be emailed to you ahead of each months online session. The time of our 3C Group will be set and fixed so people in differeing time zones can make a plan to make it a priority of their month and since it’s on Zoom, you can do this anywhere.

If you feel initially drawn to this, leave a comment saying, “I’m interested.” so I can judge the interest level of the Substack community. That way, Peter and I will know how to plan.

I’m very excited about offering this. I’m ready to invite you to take a step in with me—a little bit further and a little bit deeper.

---

Welcome to the New Subscribers. I’m so glad to have some new folks among us. This is place where I’m inviting you to join me on my own journey of bringing my own collective wisdom; my new greening of my soul and my efforts to write poetry, along with some prose to set my poems up for you in a way that you might enjoy and I might also enjoy in building our little on-line community. To read the poems though, it requires a step further inside. It’s a “Paid Subscription”—a $5 monthly coffee time so to speak with me to read. If you’re not in a place to do the $5 thing, I’ll comp you, if you just ask. Email me at info@pottersinn.com. But your taking the time to subscribe is perhaps the best way for me to get the wind in my sail to keep on keeping on. I take your comments seriously and read every one. People I don’t know—but only know here, have become dear companions and somehow—through the internet, there is a little connection for which I’m very, very glad.