Tree Tunnels & The Art of Noticing
What grew from learning to slow down, listen, and create
A few weeks ago, I was driving with several people in the car when we passed beneath one of my favorite things on planet Earth: a tree tunnel.
The place where the trees on either side of the road have grown toward one another until their branches meet, and for a few seconds, the road becomes a green, living passageway.
Every time I drive beneath one, I say aloud — “Treeeee Tunnnnellll!”
I cannot help it. They bring me joy.
Well, a few weeks ago this happened, and someone in the car said, “Oh. I’ve never noticed them before.”
I have been thinking about that ever since.
Not as a judgment. We all notice different things, and we all move through parts of our lives without seeing what is right in front of us. But it made me wonder what becomes visible when we slow down enough to pay attention.
A tree tunnel is a small thing. It does not demand anything from us. It simply offers a few seconds of green shade and beauty over an ordinary road, but maybe noticing something that small is a kind of practice.
Maybe it helps us become more available to the other things we might also pass by: the feeling in our own bodies, the person who needs to be heard, the beauty tucked inside an ordinary day, the quiet movement of God.
This question sits beneath so much of my work.
My Doctor of Ministry project, Artful Awakening, explored art, poetry, and lyric as invitations to embodied spirituality. At the heart of it was a growing conviction that transformation requires more than information.
We can understand something without being changed by it. We can read about rest while remaining exhausted. We can talk about compassion without becoming more attentive. We can study the incarnation while continuing to live as though our bodies have very little to do with our spiritual lives.
Jesus did not only give people something to know. He invited them into a new way of being. He noticed people. He noticed bodies, hunger, grief, longing, beauty, and interruption. He was present to the person in front of him.
That is the kind of transformation I want to participate in. I want people to feel whole and loved and alive. I want us to become more present in our bodies, more awake to one another, and more capable of recognizing the grace already at work in our lives.
So, I wanted to do more!
I asked myself, how?! How can I use this work to create something that others might want to use — as individuals or in groups? Two offerings were birthed: the Artful Awakening Deck and Loose Words.
Explore the Artful Awakening Deck
The deck includes creative reflection cards organized around four movements: Arrive, Explore, Create, and Reflect. It can be used for journaling, prayer, spiritual direction, retreats, or simply as a tool to help us slow down and listen.
Learn More About Loose Words
Loose Words is a collection of words for collage, poetry, prayer, journaling, and play. Sometimes we know what we need to say but cannot find the language. Sometimes the words find us.
I created both because I wanted the practices at the heart of Artful Awakening to live beyond a doctoral paper or a six-week gathering.
I hope they help us notice.
The body trying to tell the truth.
The neighbor who needs our attention.
The beauty hidden inside an ordinary day.
The quiet movement of God.
The tree tunnel waiting just ahead.
You can learn more about the Artful Awakening Deck and Loose Words at www.amberleagray.com.