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The Tree That Taught Me Boundaries

  • 3 days ago
  • 2 min read

I was in kindergarten when I first met a nature spirit — though at the time, I didn’t have words for it. Right outside our little school in my hometown, there was a tree. A beautiful, sprawling tree that we children played around, climbed on, and sometimes leaned against as if it were part of our playground.


At first, it felt magical — a silent friend, tall and wise. But then something strange began to happen. Every time I passed near it, a heavy, prickly sense of negativity started pressing down on me. I couldn’t explain it, but it scared me. Slowly, I learned to keep my distance. That was my first conscious encounter with the idea that not every tree wants to be hugged, not every living being welcomes our touch without invitation.



It’s funny how we sometimes call ourselves “tree huggers” as a badge of connection to nature. And sure — hugging a tree can feel like recharging and connection, no doubt about that. But let's not forget that authentic nature-based spirituality isn’t about the performative act. It’s about resonance, respect, and listening. It’s about feeling when a tree, a plant, or a stream welcomes your attention — and noticing when it doesn’t.


Even if you live in the heart of the city, you don’t need a forest to practice this kind of respectful connection. A small tree by your apartment, a stubborn plant growing through a sidewalk crack, or even the potted greenery on your balcony can teach you the same lesson: notice, feel, and honor the life around you.


Nature-based spirituality isn’t about grand gestures or photo-worthy rituals. It’s about presence, awareness, and reciprocity. You can be a city dweller and still tune in to the subtle energies of your surroundings. You can listen, sense, and learn — without forcing a connection, without overstepping.


And here’s the most beautiful part: when you approach life this way, everything starts to resonate differently. You notice the small gifts — the way a leaf quivers in the wind, the soft hum of a street tree at dusk, the quiet welcome of a plant that truly invites your touch. You realize that connection isn’t measured by the number of trees you hug, but by the respect, attention, and attunement you bring to the world around you.


So hug a tree if it feels right. Sit quietly by a plant. Listen. Feel. Learn. And remember: true connection is always mutual (not just when it comes to befriending trees).

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Hi, thanks for stopping by!

I’m Nicole—urban by choice, mystic by nature. I love black cats, good chai or matcha, and conversations that start late and end with epiphanies. Somewhere between spreadsheets and spellwork, I found my calling: helping people make sense of the mess, the magic, and even the Mondays.

This is my cauldron—a place where modern life meets modern mysticism, stirred with curiosity, a dash of rebellion, and a whole lot of heart. Pull up a chair, pour yourself something warm, and let’s see what kind of magic we can discover together.

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