Trees That Shaped Our Lives: Stories of Healing, Belonging, and Wild Wisdom

Trees don’t just decorate our lives, they shape them. We start with a simple question that turns out to be huge: can you name a tree that carried you through a hard season? From childhood tree houses and scraped knees to the quiet relief of hiding in leaves when home feels tense, we follow the ways trees become sanctuary, perspective, and a kind of wordless companionship that asks nothing from us.

We also talk about healing in a more literal sense. Andrea Beaman shares how illness and recovery pulled her back into nature, into herbs as medicine, and into forest bathing. We explore why time among trees can lower blood pressure, lift mood, and support immunity, then go deeper into the felt experience of sitting with your back against a trunk and breathing until something shifts. Andrea describes a moment of connecting with what her teacher names “tree spirit,” and how that encounter changed her relationship to the living world.

Then the stories widen into community and grief. Christina Passanisi writes about fighting for a tree on her land and finding a breakthrough with the town engineer. Gina Bruno shares daily winter walks during her husband’s cancer treatment, where the woods absorb heavy emotion and return calm. And in a powerful plant-medicine story, Andrea recounts an ayahuasca ceremony in Brazil where a tree’s blunt instruction helps her release years of rage by giving it to the earth. We close with Linda Helms and the Eagle Tree that becomes the Dragon Tree, plus a reminder that caring for forests, water, birds, and bees is personal because we are nature too.

If these stories sparked a memory, we want to hear it. Subscribe to Wize Woman STORIES, share this with a friend who needs a breath of green, and find more at deliaquigley.substack.com.

Transcript

Prologue Among Ancient Trees

SPEAKER_02 0:11

Before there were roads, before there were cities, before there were clocks telling us where to be and when to be there, there were trees. They stood witness to our beginnings. They sheltered us, warmed us, fed us, and quietly held the stories of the earth. Long before we learned to write our histories, the trees were already keeping them. When I think about the trees I've known and loved, I don't just remember their branches or their leaves. I remember the comfort they offered during difficult times. I remember the forest that restored my spirit. I remember the solitary trees that seemed to call me closer, inviting me to sit beneath them and just listen. Welcome to Wise Women's Stories. I'm your host, Delia Quigley. In today's episode, Trees That Shaped Our Lives, I want to share some of those stories with you. Stories of companionship, healing, resilience, ah, and wonder. Stories of the way trees shape not only the landscapes around us, but the landscapes within us. And perhaps as you listen to my stories and the stories of my guests, you'll remember a tree of your own. A tree that stood beside you during a turning point in your life. A tree that offered shelter. One that offered a new perspective, or even peace, peace of mind. So settle in, take a breath, and join me as we wander among the trees.

Childhood Freedom In The Branches

SPEAKER_02 2:13

As a child, trees were simply where life happened. I was a tomboy, growing up with four brothers. I climbed trees, hung from branches, came home dirty with leaves in my hair and grass stains on my jeans. I was six, maybe seven years old. I remember one day my brothers heading off to meet their friends in the woods. We had a tree house back there, but built among the forest, and I naturally assumed I was going too. But that day, my mom stopped me. No, you're going to a party with the girls. It's time you started acting like one. I can still remember the horror. The women dressed me in a fancy dress with stiff crinoline slip underneath. They put me in shiny black patent leather Mary Janes with white socks. They even put makeup on me. Then one by one, we girls had to walk out in front of the mothers and what amounted to a children's fashion show. The shoes pinched my feet. I hated the dress. And all I could think about was the tree house waiting in the woods. I wanted my plaid shirt, my blue jeans, and my red sneakers. I wanted bark beneath my hands and wind in my face. When I got home, something had changed. The boys treated me differently. I was a girl now. Soon after, one of the neighborhood boys fell from a tree and broke his arm. That became one more reason why I wasn't supposed to climb. But I did anyway. If a branch was low enough for me to jump up, grab hold, and swing a leg over, I was climbing. I would go as high as I dared and look out over the neighborhood, seeing the world from perspective few adults ever experience. In Pennsylvania, there are cherry trees, heavy with ripe fruit. A few neighborhood boys and I would sit on the branches eating cherries and holding contests to see who could spit the pits the farthest. I must have been eight years old then. Trees also became my hiding places. With a growing family of boys, my mom was often overwhelmed. Her moods could be unpredictable. When I needed peace, I climbed a tree. Above the ground, surrounded by leaves, I could escape both her temper and my brother's endless teasing. You know, the trees never demanded anything of me. They simply held me.

SPEAKER_01 5:03

I

Losing And Reclaiming Tree Connection

SPEAKER_01 5:04

remember when I was growing up, I used to do a lot of things out with the trees. The trees were a place to play. We used to climb trees, we would put a swing on a tree and swing all day. We used to play, uh, you know, where you'd wrap your arms around a tree, all the kids would get together and hold hands and wrap an arm wrap our arms around the trees. And I lost sight of my connection to the trees up until the time that I became an adult. And I got into the regular world of go to work and get on the subway and you know make sure that you're doing all the things that you do as an adult. And I forgot to bring my love of the trees into my adulthood with me. But it came back, and it came back strong after I got sick and I healed myself naturally using food and herbs as medicine and nature. And when I was studying about macrobiotics, this is all the way back in the 90s, it had to be 90s, early 2000s. I was studying macrobiotics and I was at the Kushi Institute in Massachusetts, and I had learned about this Japanese forest bathing. Right? It was to help people heal and to help you have a closer connection to nature to boost your immunity and heal naturally. So I had uh learned about this, and then I said, okay, let me step into the forest and see what happens. So I go into the back of the Kushi Institute and I get on this trail and I start walking into the forest by myself, and I'm having a really good time, and then I heard a little twig snap behind me. And I was like, oh my god, I'm in the forest by myself. There's something in there that's gonna kill me. And I hightailed it out of the woods, and I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran until I ended up in the middle of the street. Now, I don't know if you know this, but more people die on streets in any city USA than they do in forests. So it was an unnatural fear of the forest. I mean, there could have been something there, of course. Could have been a bear, could have been something, could have been anything. But the fear of being in the forest was definitely there. And I don't know how it got there. Um, maybe from watching too much television, who knows? But it was there. And once I moved beyond that fear, I saw just how very important it is to get back amongst the trees. So that's when I started getting back into hiking, which I used to do as a kid with my mom and my dad. And it's also when I uh when I was uh in my 40s, I started to learn about herbs as medicine, and there was a teacher, and she took us into Central Park and she said, Listen, I want you to find a tree, and I want you to sit with your back against the tree and just take some deep breaths and meditate. Now, scientifically, I understand that trees contain natural elements that boost our immunity, they make us feel good, they lift depression, they lower blood pressure. All of this happens with trees and the chemicals that we they release and that we take into our human body. But to sit against a tree and just meditate with the tree and breathe with the tree was a totally different experience. So I put my back against the tree, I closed my eyes, and I felt a surge of energy come up my back, and then in my mind's eye, I saw what like you know those things that you see in, you know, like a car sales lot, it's like one of those wavy, puffy uh balloon things that looks like a person, but it's like a long, lean person blowing in the wind. So in my mind's eye, this blowy, it was like an orange-colored, um blowy, flowy kind of energy thing came out of the tree and was dancing in front of me, attached to the tree, but lowered down in front of me and was dancing, you know, and it was waving back and forth and it was happy. Oh my gosh, it was so happy. And I started smiling in my meditation. I started smiling and laughing because this tree was dancing in front of me. When it was time to go back and share our experience about what happened when we sat with her back against a tree and just breathed with the tree, I told the teacher what happened, and the teacher looked at me. Her name was Robin Rose Bennett. She looked at me and she goes, Oh, you connected with the tree spirit. Now, anybody else would have said, Oh, you've lost your mind, you're crazy, you're insane. So you need to go to the hospital and take medication. But the herbalist who is connected to the plants and the trees and the other elements on the earth that we have long forgotten, the herbalist knew that there is an energy within the tree that we don't have necessarily scientific information about, but that I could energetically see and feel in my experience. So I have a whole new respect and admiration for trees. These quiet, happy plants that give us oxygen. Without the trees, we wouldn't be able to be here, right? They give us oxygen and um it's a wonderful symbiotic uh relationship. We give them carbon, they take in the carbon, they give us oxygen. We are together with each other here on the planet. So for me, I have a huge reverence and respect for these trees and the tree spirit. And like I said, I understand scientifically that being around the trees is good for us. But I also know in my whole body, mind, and spirit, the whole thing that is me contained within this little body, I really understand more deeply that the trees are much more than we have been ever taught about them. They have their own little beings and their own little energies. I'd have to say big energies. I'm not gonna say little. They have big energies. And when we connect with them more deeply, they can literally help us to be happier while we're here. Right? Happy, healthy, boosted immune system. They help us breathe better. So if you can, take some time, go out, and sit among the trees and maybe put your back up against a tree or climb a tree, connect with a tree. Love a tree and let it love you right back. Let it give you some good, happy vibes.

Why Trees Heal Body And Mind

SPEAKER_02 12:22

Women have been sending me their stories. I put the call out to my tribe, and stories about trees have been arriving. You just heard Andrea Beaman reflect on her early experiences with trees, and she'll have more to share. But what's so important about trees? Well, first of all, they're the oldest, the wisest, the largest, the heaviest creations on this planet. And their energy, their frequency, their vibrations, the roots, they extend further even than their multiple branches. And for you to know, just being in the presence of trees can literally reduce blood pressure. In one large-scale study, scientists found that a single tree by the front door improves health and well-being. And get this. Today in Japan, a doctor can write a prescription for a walk in the woods, like a sick note. One that gives you permission to take the day off and go spend time meditating in the forest sitting by a tree. Here in our country we call it forest bathing. Here, let me share a few of the stories I received from the women who love trees.

Listener Stories Of Trees As Allies

SPEAKER_02 13:48

This one from Christina. She had read my Substack post between Earth and Sky, and so she wrote, I really enjoyed your reflection on the trees and their presence in our lives. I've been in communication with a very special tree. My husband Abi and I have been involved in a very interesting intersection on our land between the town's water easement and the trees they want to remove for it. Being with the trees at the threshold of life or death brought presence, voice, and listening into sharp, soft focus. Yesterday, a breakthrough realization happened with the town engineer which birthed a new solution previously not in our awareness. The tree in question will now be saved, and its mission will continue. The creative solution was birthed through the feminine and her silent tears flowing. We are living personal mythologies, are we not? And here's one from Gina Bruno. She writes, When my husband was receiving cancer treatment during one exceptionally cold, snowy, lonely winter more than a decade ago, I could not have made it through as easily without the friendship of the woodland trees near our home. I could actually feel the heavy emotions I carried into my walk, being accepted, absorbed, and maybe even mulched by all these generous beings, so many of them familiar and known, ash, beech, birch, hickory. I could distinctly feel that the energy shifted for me at somewhere past the midpoint of the walk, when I'd begin to experience a sense of relief, calm, and inner refreshment. I actually did experience a kind of lightness. I could go back home and meet all that faced me with greater equanimity, with greater energy, thanks to the trees, who came to feel like friends. This was a daily practice that offered a sense of grounding and greater resilience during that intense three-month period. And I have often reflected on the great support I received then, which I have cherished. I still recall the sense of peace and even loving presence that was offered to me every single day of those difficult months.

SPEAKER_01 17:02

I was

Plant Medicine And A Tree’s Command

SPEAKER_01 17:03

having some struggles with my meditation. I was having struggles getting staying in a really bad relationship that wasn't working. And someone had recommended to me to take ayahuasca. And I had no idea what ayahuasca was. But I'm I'm an adventurous spirit. And as long as it's um some form of plant medicine, I'm okay with that. So I flew down to Brazil and I participated in an ayahuasca ceremony. And the shamans would told the women, you know, you girls go out and you pick the leaves from this specific uh bush, and the men would go out and they would uh dig up the vines of another plant. And then these two plants were combined to make what we know as ayahuasca, the medicinal drink. So I'm in this ceremony and I'm picking the leaves and I'm you know connecting with everyone, and and then we take the ayahuasca, and as we take the ayahuasca, um I started to get into a hallucinatory, uh hallucinating state. But you know, like the floor was moving, I could see that the floor was no longer solid, the walls were no longer solid. It was a different frame of mind to be in. Um, things that I thought were solid were no longer solid. It's it's like the ayahuasca had opened up the doorway to seeing beyond our solid linear experience. So uh as I'm having this experience, I noticed that a tremendous amount of anger comes up inside my system. Like this rage that I had been feeling for years that I had suppressed into my system had risen up to the surface, and I started walking around the circle, and you know, people were having their own experiences. There were a total of about 15 people there in this ceremony, including uh four of the shamans. And I started walking around the circle, and all I kept feeling was this intense rage and anger, and I had to get out of this circle, I had to get away from this experience that I was having. But you're not allowed to leave. You're not allowed to leave the circle. That's a no-no that goes against um all of the um protocols, right? You're not allowed to leave, it's a sacred circle, but I had to get away. So as the shamans are tending to the other people, I'm literally circling around them, and my circle, um, my perimeter is getting wider and wider and wider, and the anger is getting more and more intense, and I'm infuriated, and I feel this rage building and building, and finally I'm like, I gotta get the fuck out of here. Away from these fucking drug addicts. Look at them, drug addicts in the middle of the middle of the forest doing drugs, you know, like what the F is going on? I mean, I was dropping F-bombs, like it couldn't, you couldn't even believe it. I had so much anger and rage coming up. So I finally, my perimeter gets wide enough, and the shamans are tending to the other people who are having their experience. I finally am able to escape. I'm in the middle of the in the middle of the South American jungle by sitting by myself in the middle of the night. Right? I didn't even have a flashlight, and I had to walk two miles to the road to get back to the house. And here I am in the jungle. I finally escaped from the shamans, and I'm in the jungle and I'm cursing my head off, and I'm screaming, and rage is coming up, and then all of a sudden, out of the blue, a tree slaps me in the face. Now remember, I'm no longer in my experience of um solid uh experience as a human being. I'm now in a more expanded state of mind due to the ayahuasca. So uh the tree literally slaps me in the face and it stops me, and it says to me, I can hear the tree speaking to me, it says to me, Give your anger to the earth, she'll take it. And I look at this tree and I say, What? You're a tree. Who are you to tell me what to do? You're a tree, and the tree. He said, just give your anger to the earth. She'll take it. And I said, Fine, fine, I'll give my anger to the earth. So I start stamping my feet on the ground. I'm stamping, I'm kicking rocks, I'm stamping, I'm letting all of this anger drain out of my system. I'm stamping and going through the jungle and cursing like a banshee. I don't know what this cursing like a truck driver on steroids. And I'm going through the jungle and stamping and stamping and still going, going finally. I get down to the road two miles down of me cursing through the jungle. And I get down to the road and I stop. And I felt so light and I felt so free. And I felt so happy and so joyful. And I knew that I had transformed and released that anger that had been inside my body. And the way that I did it was by listening to the tree. The tree had the wisdom. The tree had the wisdom that I needed. The tree that has been here for I don't know how many thousands or hundreds of years, way beyond my existence here on the planet as a human being. This tree spoke to me and gave me exactly what I needed. And I took that information and I still use it today. When I am angry and I feel rageful and I feel that something is not right, I will go for a run. I will stamp my feet into the ground. I will give my anger to the earth, and she takes it from me.

Forest Lessons On Survival And Support

SPEAKER_02 24:04

Looking. I noticed the trees that took a sharp bend to the right and then reach upward, trying, trying to find the light. I marveled at the ones growing together, side by side, and then separating off in different directions. I saw the trees that have curved over completely, as if the tip knew it wasn't going to reach the sun. So it bent, made a natural arch, and came down on the other side. A little fairy arch. And then I noticed the trees that couldn't make it. They couldn't find enough light, couldn't pull enough nutrients, they couldn't climb high enough. So they stood there naked and devoid of leaves and branches, just like a thick stalk among the others. I steered clear of the trees that have been taken over by vines, poison ivy, or is it English ivy? Oh, and there was the one standing inside a smaller tree, but not the same type of tree. A pine tree with an oak attached at the bottom, clinging together as they rose towards the sun, bound for the rest of their life. And then something caught my eye. A vine that connected the two trees. Everywhere you look, life is moving, circulating, attaching itself, reaching up for survival. In this one small wooded area, every plant was finding its way. Some were climbing, some leaning, some wrapping themselves around another, some being pulled down or smothered by a stronger vine. And as I stood there watching, I couldn't help but think how much it resembles us. How we attach ourselves to others, how we climb, sometimes using another person as our ladder. We get tangled up, we get pulled down, and sometimes we are lifted higher because someone else helped us reach the light. The art of survival is here in the woods. And if you want to see how life unfolds, then walk amongst the trees and notice. Not just the good feeling they give you, yes, but notice how the trees and vines and bushes and tiny new growth find their way. Pushing up, pushing past, pushing around each other. And then they're the ones who make it. The ones who push through and reach the sun. Their trunks are strong and powerful. Their roots travel down into the earth and outward through the forest, feeding other trees, sharing nutrients, supporting life around them. These are the mother trees, the wise elders of the forest, the catalysts of life spanning years and years and sometimes centuries. In places like the Sequoia Forest, thousands of years they have stood. They've endured storms, droughts, fires, changing seasons, and the passing of many generations. They made it. They lasted that long. And then we come along and chop them down, build a house from them, or burn them. Because that's what we do. In our ignorance, that's what we do.

The Eagle Tree Becomes A Dragon

SPEAKER_00 28:34

It's now called the Dragon Tree. For years, my father called it the Eagle Tree. I remember the first time I drove down Hood Canal and I was coming to see the house that they were buying. I was 17 years old. It was a beautiful Alaskan fir that stood out among all the other deciduous trees along the waterside. I remember looking for it, finding it, and then finding the property that they eventually bought. For many years, especially in the last decade, my father would sit in his chair and call out any time there was an eagle that would land in the tree, and so we called it the eagle tree for a long time. Actually, decade, I should say half a century, because for years that's what he would do. Recently, though, within the last eight years, I have seen the tree in a different light. I was sitting one morning in my reading chair and I looked out, and for the very first time I saw the tree actually was structured and looked exactly like the head of a dragon with its talons coming out. I was just blown away when I saw that, and it just gave me such hope. I was in the middle of an emotional crisis, and when I saw that, I realized that yes, it had always been the eagle tree, higher perspective, a tree of support and um fantasy, really, because every time you see an eagle, there's just this magical quality that happens, especially that close up. But now the tree, along with being the eagle tree, had transformed into a new being. And I knew that everything was going to be alright. It was just one of those incredible synchronistic moments.

SPEAKER_02 30:57

The eagle tree to her father became the dragon tree to Linda Helms. And she's built an incredible sound studio around that exact energy the tree has brought to her land.

Mother Earth Series And Closing Thanks

SPEAKER_02 31:14

Today's episode is part of a larger series of stories exploring our relationship with Mother Earth. Over the coming months, we'll wander through forests and fields, listening to rivers, standing beside ancient stones, meeting the creatures who share this planet with us, and hearing the stories of women whose lives have been shaped by the natural world. As we travel together, I hope you'll come to understand that the warming of this planet is not something happening somewhere else, to someone else. It is personal. The earth provides all the things that are precious to us, not only food, water, shelter, and medicine, but comfort, beauty, wonder, and a sense of belonging. To walk into a forest and stand among the trees, to sit beside a river and listen to the water moving over stone, to hear birds song in the morning, to watch bees moving from flower to flower. These are not small things. These are the experiences that connect us to life itself. And when we lose the forest, it is personal. When clean water disappears, it is personal. When birds fall silent, it is personal. And when the bees disappear, it's personal. Not simply because they provide something useful to us, but because they share this existence with us, all of life is interconnected. The trees, the rivers, the birds, the bees, the animals, the soil beneath our feet and us. We are not separate from nature. We are nature. The earth is not just the place where we live. She is our first home. And if we are willing to listen, she still has so much to teach us. You've been listening to Wise Woman's Stories. I'm your host, Delia Quigley. I want to thank my guests Andrea Beaman, Gina Bruno, Christina Pasanisi, and Linda Helms for their shared stories and to the many, many, many trees that have shaped my life and always for the better. You can find me on DeliaQuigley.com to listen and read at your leisure. Until next time.