How Can You Live Without Trees?

on my ever-deepening connection to the forest and carrying hope that others will find their way home to nature too

One of my favourite movies growing up was FernGully, an animated 1992 Disney film about nature, fairies, and the balance between destruction and creation. I was entranced by the way this movie brought the forest to life — full of magic and tiny creatures, vibrant colours and an entire world beyond what we think we know. My heart broke when the humans came in with their trucks and machines, their endless expansion and construction, and began to destroy this magical world. 

Growing up where I did, there was always an emphasis on spending time outside. We played amongst the forests, spent our summers swimming and riding bikes and horseback riding, spent the winters skiing and tobogganing. All this time outside, I was surrounded by wild forests and majestic mountains, it’s an upbringing I am endlessly grateful for. I have been connected to nature my entire life, though it’s interesting when I think back, I was connected, yet I held very little true appreciation for it, the connection ran only surface-level.

As one who has spent their entire life in one place, I think it’s natural to take it for granted. It’s all I knew, and for a long time, I had no concept that others didn’t experience the same things I did.

As time went on and I became a teenager, I spent less and less time outside. I was no longer playing in the forest, instead, I was occupied by the trials of high school, navigating the challenges of growing into myself, balancing the drama and anxiety that come with those messy teenage years.

Nature and I grew further apart as I entered adulthood. I was preoccupied, as so many of us are at that age, and had no time for slow wanders and tiny magic. Sure, my first job was as a horseback trail guide and I was outside all day every day. I went camping often, slept in tents, woke up to the sound of birds. I was still surrounded by nature, but the connection was muted.

I remember having moments, when I felt this twinge deep within, when I felt this emotion starting to rise at the beauty of it all, but it was never given the time and space to express itself, never nurtured and embraced. The distractions were plenty, and boy, were they loud enough to stomp on that little spark of connection that was trying to reignite.

In 2015, my precariously built life came crashing down — burnout arrived, and everything changed — my job, my living situation, my friends, my boyfriend, my health both emotional and physical — it all flipped on its head, some of it screeching to a whiplash-inducing halt.

And as I pulled myself from the rubble, I wandered someplace new and began to construct a more sturdy foundation upon which the rest of my life would be rebuilt.

I was 30 when I finally found my way back to nature — seeking something different than what I had ever known before. No longer was nature the background, it became the star. This time, it was not about the activities, it was not simply where I went to do other things, going out into the forest became the sole and most important purpose. To just be there.

And my connection to nature, to the woods and ponds and streams, to the mountains and clouds and cliffs, to the creatures, to the magic and tiny wonders, flourished and became one of the strongest pillars supporting me as I recovered and healed from the burnout and despair I had fallen into.

Crysta: But how can you live without trees?

Zak: Easy.

Crysta: But trees give life. They make the clouds, the water, the air.

FernGully: The Last Rainforest

I went for a walk the other day, on a trail I hadn’t explored before. It’s a well-known trail, more heavily used than the ones I’m used to wandering. One of those trails that gets you into nature, but you never feel that far from civilization.

On one side of the trail, a majestic and powerfully flowing river cascaded through the forest. When most people envision what British Columbia looks like, I imagine this is part of that image.

On the other side… destruction. A swath of forest clearcut, old growth trees gone, moss replaced by dusty dirt, filled with a cacophony of machines, hammers and saws — a construction zone for new apartment buildings, and many of them.

I could feel the sadness fill me and I tried to focus on the beauty to my left, but it was too hard to escape the emptiness on my right. I walked further, hoping to get past these new builds, and eventually, I did, but it took so long, and I couldn’t help but think of all that beautiful forest that was taken away. 

Crysta: But just think. Humans back in the forest!

Batty Koda: Yep. There goes the neighbourhood.

Crysta: Be nice, Batty.

Batty Koda: First thing, all these trees go. Then come your highways, then come your shopping malls, and your parking lots, and your convenience stores...

FernGully: The Last Rainforest

I spent too many years with a bleak outlook on life, depressed and always seeing the worst in any given situation. As I rebuilt my life after burnout, I spent so much time learning about myself and retraining my unconscious habits and tendencies. This shift, along with finding gratitude and more balanced and neutral ways of thinking, changed the way I lived entirely. 

In situations like I experienced the other day, it can be hard to see that tiny shine of a silver lining — in truth, I recognize that some situations don’t have them, and it’s okay to simply be upset by what I’ve seen, to let every feeling have the moment it needs.

But I can’t help but carry that small feeling of hope with me. Hope that people will form those deeper connections to the wild world that needs to be protected. Hope that people will experience the beauty, the peace, and the healing that can come from time spent in nature. Hope that things may change, that we may recognize the destruction we’re causing, that we’ll stop trying to continually expand and take over the spaces that should just be left alone, or cherished and explored with gentleness and compassion.

A part of me also hopes that by sharing the tiny magic that I come across out in the forest, more will awaken to that connection to the earth and to nature.

♡ Whitney

We have too long forgotten the magic powers of nature. The time has come to call on them again. Remember: all the magic of creation exists within a single tiny seed.

FernGully: The Last Rainforest

If this piece resonated with you, I do hope you’ll take a moment to share it, it helps my little space here enormously.

---