Chapter 1

There were three men sitting in a circle tending to a flower. But they weren’t around it, they sat in line with it. The young man next to the flower, a middle aged man behind him… and on the edge is an old man, relaxing into the dirt.

I stopped when I saw them and waited by the edge of the clearing. Elemi, the young man, was talking to the flower. And as he did the flower opened and closed. Behind him sat a father figure, his name Benzoin, and he helped guide the young man’s connection. On the edge, the old man’s name was Labdanum. Sitting on the earthen floor propped up against a log – covered in dirt – enjoying the sensations of being alive… He sorta seemed like he was doing his own thing. But when he spoke, Elemi and Benzoin listened.

I saw Labdanum and joined him by the tree stump. He greeted me with a gentle but vibrant smile – he was radiant, almost like he was glowing. And he patted the ground next to him. I sat down, and he threw some dirt in my lap. I looked at him shocked but his joy dispelled my confusion – his smile told me it was right – and it was. He tapped on the log behind us and pointed to a tree by our side. He pointed to the other trees and then went to rest. I sat with the trees.

As I sat in the clearing – watching Benzoin and Elemi, seated next to Labdanum I noticed… the tree we’re next to is surrounded by others – a vast ecosystem, and when I touched her I felt her roots. I followed them, in all directions they spread. I sat crosslegged by the log, by Labdanum, and felt the ground, I traced the roots and I got scared – what I saw was a massive mother tree, standing high above the ground, her roots like umbilicus spreading and tapping other trees – she drinks the life-force from those around her – I see it – like she’s drawing their blood for her own – taking it – taking what they made for herself. I disconnected from her and looked at Labdanum – horror. Horrified at how something can reach so deep just to find her neighbors and take what they make for her own. This beautiful tree I saw as majestic is nothing but a thief – a parasite – taking from the community around her – robbing the other trees – keeping them small. I couldn’t understand why she would do that – why wouldn’t she just make her own? Why does she take so much? And what does she have to give? How do these other trees handle someone in the community who takes and takes and takes? How do we justify her size against the trees she dwarfs when they can’t feed themselves because of her? HOW IS THIS RIGHT?

Labdanum, without words, knew what I saw. He sat on the same ground, but he was relaxed, and I’m tense. I’m mad, I’m mad at mother tree – for the beauty she showed me and for the destruction she causes. And Labdanum placed his gentle hand on my knee. The shock, the confusion, the anger, it settled. And he pointed at the trees again, but I couldn’t understand. “Yes I know – they’re there, and even if they give she shouldn’t take!”

Labdanum slowly stood up, brushing the dust off his clothes – the powder glowing around him – like a mushroom cap releasing spores to the crisp morning air as the first sun bounces off the flesh and bathes the world in glowing yellow. Each piece of dust enlivened, sacred, intentional. He reached out his hand to me, the light catching him majestically and I took it. He lifted me up and I felt weightless, he walked me to the tree but I felt I was gliding. He put my hand on the tree bark – the skin of this evil mother and placed his hand on the back of mine, gently pressing, connecting me to her.

Her name was Sandalwood. And through her brown skin, the wooden interior I found the clear liquid she brews inside… but it wasn’t a gentle brew… she was in pain – I could feel the grit, the sharpness, the bites, the burning. I could feel deep inside her was a hollow – filled with anguish and suffering. Labdanum pressed my hand into the tree more firm – he wanted me to see the truth. And I did. She was sick – dis-eased… Something was growing inside her, feeding off her, and she was allowing it. She was nurturing the parasite, because their burning, and their eating, and their use of her gave her the fuel she needs to create her oil: The divine tears of maternity. The sacrifice – that she feeds her own body so she can make something to give to the world. THAT is maternity – letting the baby eat you, feeding it with your own body – and what comes out is an oil – an experience, that teaches us that there is no parasite. The baby eats from the mom – the mom sacrifices her body, mind, spirit, life, for this baby, and in doing so it teaches her to produce the essence of motherhood. And she does so because she was once a baby, and her baby will one day be a mother.

I opened my eyes and looked at Labdanum. His expression – neutral – it just is. And that’s what this is… this is what he wanted me to see… The baby feeds from the mom, the mom sacrifices for her baby, through that she teaches us maternity – what it is to give up our own body to nurture the ones we love? This is woman – that is her plight, her blessing, her story. And then I understood. She’s not taking from the other trees, the eucalyptus, the acacia, the casuarina… they’re GIVING what they have to her, she is taking from them, so she can play her divine role as mother – a role no other can play. They support her because they know it IS her. And she sacrifices herself to give to us.

I felt Labdanum’s hand lift, and when I turned around Elemi was a boy, handing me a small vial. Benzoin, a young man now, approached and with a smooth voice he told me: “This is Sandalwood – the tears of divine motherhood – the spirit of creation itself. The sacrifice. She does this because this is who she is. Prasūna Vikāsa.”

Like the dust glowing in the light, when Labdanum stood up the world started breaking into fractal pieces. Dissolving into the particles that once built it – the energy scattering in beautiful and dazzling arrays of color. Glowing strands dissolved into seeds and spores that float away in the drafts and currents of life – potentials waiting to be planted. The ground swirled away with the trees, the men, and flower. Everything twirled like a sandstorm of colors – a whirlwind I couldn’t see through. The hypnotic windstorm began to settle. The colors faded to a beige sand, and when I tried to look out my eyes squinted as they met the harsh desert sun.

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