Peace Tree Connects Us

PEACE COMES WHEN WE CONNECT

On Friday August 8, 2025 I was in Amsterdam to attend the first ever Peace Tree planting ceremony on the east side of this beautiful city in the country of my birth.

I think we can all agree that our world is in a mess, a huge human-made mess. From wars to lawlessness, Acid Rain to climate change, pollution, avarice, greed, selfishness, autocracies, atrocities, to homelessness, human trafficking, domestic violence — these are but a few examples. The sadness, harm, anger, anxiety and hopelessness continue to grow as our planet slowly withers away towards oblivion AND human populations dwindle. 

An amazing group of conscientious believers in an awakening of all people, organized this well attended peace tree planting ceremony. It is a real Sequoia tree, a tree that stands tall and proud, with strong roots embedded into the earth. Its long, far reaching seeded branches metaphorically welcome and encourage all to stand up, be aware, be alert, become earth nurturers, with feet embedded onto the fertile earth. The participation and commitment become the metaphor of the power of the tree and each person personifies the power of the seeds that they sow in the name of a new peaceful beginning to life and living.

I do know some mainstream thinking people cannot get their heads around connecting human reality with Nature. With a little effort to realise the planet was formed by a magical or mysterious process that enabled humans, plants and animals to exist here with each other and because of each other, the ability to save our planet for many more future generations to enjoy is within our hands.

So what does any of this have to do with peace? To me peace isn’t just limited to ending the war or the heinous human mentality to problem solving. 

Evidently war is an atrocity I need not explain. The war to end all wars failed for many reasons including avarice and greed, selfishness, jealousy, envy, hatred, disrespect, and disconnection. By “disconnection” I mean refusing to remember the Earth is for humans, plants and animals to coexist, not only within their unique identities but with each identity together connected as one peaceful grouping on planet Earth. 

War has clearly done more to increase worldly problems than to decrease them. Heinous crimes are no different. We need to stop moving forward along the same path.

So this brings me back to the international Peace Tree initiative. In a way, for me as a lifelong mainstreamer,  August 8, 2025 has been like a “born again” awakening. 

A new tree is ready to grow anew. The goal is to get new trees planted as Peace Trees all over the world in the hopes that their symbolic power will positively impact our Earth enabling many more generations to exist here in peace as was originally intended.

I kind of got my first feeling about the mysterious power of the tree world, for example, whenever I would walk or cycle within forests, stop, stand still and listen. Then I would meditate, talk out my anger, disappointments, challenges, and accomplishments, and feel feedback for as long as I stood there or sat there, and beyond. It was magical forest therapy and I kept it to myself.

In my many years of living near, and interacting with, indigenous people and attending indigenous events, it took me a very long time to agree that there really is something real about a human connection with Nature but, also, with animals. All pet owners will agree. 

Indigenous people take it to a similar level with their firm beliefs in actual communication with animals in the wildlife kingdom. Initially that concept was very hard to understand for this white woman. But, I gave that a try once when I was noticing a community of bald eagles often hovering over my house in Maple Ridge. I would often stop what I was doing to welcome them with my arms raised. If I had something heavy on my mind I would release it, kind of throw it upwards, and felt some kind of guidance come back. It was weird but effective. I have never shared that with anyone until now.

Why now? Well this Peace Tree initiative included a fabulous story from an elder about the power of the Eagle. It confirmed my personal experience. Now I am ready to tell the world: peace comes when we connect. 

To extend that concept of connectivity to more down to earth unpeaceful examples, consider the life of a spouse subjected to a life of misery due to domestic violence. Their existence is by no means peaceful; but, when we connect with them, offer them counselling, housing, food, career planning etc, we help to bring peace to their lives. That is the power of connectivity.

Similarly, when we bring injured animals to a veterinarian or wildlife sanctuary, we connect with the injured animal world to bring peace to their existence on this Earth. That is the power of connectivity. 

We impact Nature in our actions and deeds. Nature impacts us. We impact animals and animals impact us. Through peaceful connectivity, we learn to get along. That is the power of connectivity.

So back to the symbol of the tree as an altar or gathering place, a restorer of growth and courage, with its roots holding it steady and firmly in the ground and its top growing high up into SkyWorld, its branches reaching out and swaying, spreading seeds and standing alongside other trees, all animals and all people, in unity — one mind, one heart, one spirit: that is the true power of connectivity.

We can emerge from the errors of our ways. Be they homebased human mishaps, mistakes, misunderstandings, or within communities, governments and nations, fresh starts are the answer.

At the root of it all, together, when connected, we can grow anew.

Waving in Rotterdam

 

WAVING ON 👋 

Many years ago, I travelled to Rotterdam, the city of my birth. I visited the neighbourhood in which I was born and saw the house on Duivenvordestraat. The area was fenced off and something was happening there. It was either a demolition or a refit. Either way I accepted it sadly as the end of era of sorts. My history was about to be wiped off the map. 51A would soon no longer be. It was a tough day.

So recently I was back in Rotterdam and I felt no desire to go see Duivenvoordestraat. I did, however, have another reason to be there. My last surviving aunt and uncle still live there on the Gordelweg. They are in their mid-eighties and  have lived in that same third floor flat for decades. No elevator. No air conditioning. 

My aunt had a hip replacement several years back and my uncle had a brain aneurism incident not long ago. Never a thought has gone into finding a more suitable place to live. The Gordelweg is their home, and with every effort possible, they are not planning to move.

As I sat in their living room, with an outdoor temperature of 32C (100F) and an indoor temperature of more than that, liquid was spewing from many skin pores from every limb of my body. I had to ask my aunt for a wet handdoek to dry myself. My uncle offered me a drink and, despite the many offerings he listed, all I wanted was WATER!  

We chit-chatted a lot about family and I did feel tall and proud about my seemingly understandable Dutch. I hardly used an English word, but did do a bit of Pictionary or Charades to clarify when I felt stuck.

My uncle told me they had done double grocery shopping that week to be sure they had enough of what they thought I would enjoy for lunch. I do love people like that! My aunt prepared a dish of organic strawberries while my uncle made beef croquettes in an Air fryer. I was totally amazed. 85 years old and he has an Air fryer! 

The croquettes were perfectly done and so very delicious on a slice of healthy bread. The meal included a krentebroed bun filled with currents …fresh and oh so good. The issue of heat escaped me during that delicious meal.

After lunch, we descended the three floors of stairs to embark on a walk to their other “home-like” setting in a private garden home area less than a half kilometer away. 

I remember that place so well from previous visits. Small, but delightfully pleasant within a tiny forest. Their area is filled with green plants, the birds are always chirping, and you would never know you have about 75 neighbours. 

We sat outside, under cover, to enjoy a cup of tea and another surprise: an authentic Dutch pastry delicacy called ‘Tompoussen’ topped with high quality whipped cream! I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. I could hear my mom up in SkyWorld saying “I wish I could have one!” They were her favourite.

So that was it for my visit. It lasted about three hours. We walked back to the flat and said our farewells. 

As I walked away, I remembered a Dutch expectation: I had to turn around frequently to wave goodbye until we were completely out of sight of each other. It’s a behaviour I secretly grew to love growing up, and now I feel ready to do the same with my Dutch and non-Dutch friends!

Hopefully they will reciprocate…are they ready? 👋 

Hail to the Rails

 

Raising “Rails” to Rotterdam

During my recent travels to the Netherlands, I included a stop in the port City of Rotterdam, my birthplace.

I took the 9:15 slow train from Amsterdam to collect my thoughts about my beginnings and my new beginnings, and remembered there have been more than a few such occasions in this 68 year lifespan. 

In a sense life has a beginning and it eventually comes to an end; but, in between there are many beginnings and ends, dead ends, bad ends, wonderful ends, and then the door remains open for whatever intrigue shows up! I call it an upgrade, a refresh, a new journey to journalese — quasi fictionally, to create and share.

So on this slow train journey, I travelled through vast areas of countryside, on a beautiful August day, seeing cows in pastures, many tiny forests, green spaces, farms, industrial buildings, villages and towns, waterways and windmills — the iconic symbol of the Netherlands.

Yes, windmills — an engineering marvel of the Dutch, with a lifespan from which the entire world still learns.

Just like in a human life, the windmills have evolved and their uses diversified, still useful, still appreciated, effective and efficient; and, despite being minimalized, sometimes shunned and dismissed as archaic, they still stand tall and proud. 

Just writing that sentence made me think of a correlation. “Tall and proud” is how I describe my feelings about my diversified life from baby in the Netherlands, to child in a hamlet of 300 people, to my first taste of city life as a teenager. I learned my best English and French in grade school and Universities, and my worst from the streets.

I joined the movement to support French and English bilingualism as a sign of respect to the two countries that abruptly invaded the Canadian part of Turtle Island. I deemed it to be such a great idea, with enormous potential. I endured the related scorn and prejudices, and never walked away from trying to make it work, while at the same time showing respect and honour to all indigenous peoples — the original “windmills” of our world. They have never given up either and now the reconciliation movement has created an awakening which I fully support. It, like windmills, has great potential and I’m glad more people are catching on.

I joined a political party in the hopes of bridging the gap in the quest to form an officially bilingual country. That noble mission, much like the windmill, is still real, and, despite the scorn and negativity thrown my way, I have never backed away. It, too, will likely come to pass long after I am off this train of life. As a frequent traveller, I know the value of being functional in more than one language. I will never give up hope! The potential is enormous.

I could go on but I think I have made my point. Cheers to my birthright! Cheers to the survival of the windmill. Cheers to people who stand up for harmless ideas that have great potential.

As I journey onwards to Rotterdam Centraal, and journey on in this remarkable actual and metaphoric train ride of life, with ongoing station stops of learning spurts, new tastes, sights, smells, and feelings at the forefront of my mind  — this train ride and the survival of the windmill technology of the Netherlands around the world, speaks to the reality and metaphor of life moving forward. Believe and it can happen.

For all of the above, I stand tall and proud, as a Dutchie, a bilingual Canadian, with one heart, one mind, one mission:  for as long as the train travels forward and I breathe, eat, sleep and love, my passions, my beliefs and my efforts to grease the squeaky wheels will never end.

I raise a “rail” 🍷 to my trip to Rotterdam. The 50 minute slow ride was enlightening and enriching. It enabled me to play with correlation and connection— two concepts that are often ignored or dismissed as silly or non-sensical all too often.