On Birch Bark Peeling

In the cold far northern reaches of our planet, where most trees begin to reach the limits of survivability, only a few species find a niche to thrive. Under such harsh conditions, it might seem that the tremendous strength of a tree like an oak or hickory is needed, but they cannot make it here. Surprisingly, one tree that can survive in these conditions is the humble white birch. The birch’s success is not in the solidity of its wood but is more about the vulnerability of its being.

In northern climates, temperatures can fluctuate from well above freezing in the day to well below zero degrees Fahrenheit at night. Exposed to these dramatic ups and downs, trees are subject to splitting open as the sap inside of them expands and contracts. The bark of all trees is in some way designed to help regulate environmental conditions such as this, but here the white birch truly excels.

In the same way that we are likely to wear light colors on a hot summer day to avoid absorbing so much heat from the sun, the birch is able to maintain a lower internal temperature while baking in the intense solar rays at midday. This has the critical effect of reducing its internal temperature swings, as the relatively warmer days meet the vast temperature drops of the long cold nights.

The strength of the birch comes from its ability to keep shedding its protective outer layers in order to survive. Over time, as happens to us all, the birch builds up layers and layers that obstruct its true nature. For the birch, this comes in the form of moss and lichens that cover and darken the lighter coloring of its bark. The birch that can no longer reflect heat from its original bark will overheat, overcool, freeze, crack, and succumb to the elements.

For us humans, the accumulation of layers on our original self is also from external sources. We hear and repeat stories from our families and society that obscure the truth of our innate light and goodness. Like the moss and lichen on the birch, these stories are not inherently bad, but they can cause more injuries. Over the years, as we seek to defend ourselves from life’s assaults, we add our own stories and more layers of armor, hoping to feel safe. This is a very understandable response given that so much of our patterning begins when we are young, with less understanding of other options.

As adults, though, we might learn from the birch’s vulnerable act of shedding, how we too can return to our own true nature. Written into its DNA is the intelligence to peel back the outer layers that do not serve it. Without animosity, blame, or judgment, it simply lets go, dropping the moss and lichen by shedding outer layers of bark and returning again and again to itself. We, too, can stand still for a time and look into our own hearts, minds, and bodies to recognize what doesn’t feel genuine, and then shed those things. We, too, can allow ourselves to feel rooted in the earth and trust in our innate abilities to live and respond wisely.

Try: Meet a tree! Go outside and look deeply at tree bark. The bark of every tree is part of its essence. Go up to a tree. Look at the overall patterns in the bark. How does it change from the base to high up the trunk? Look at the texture and color: how is it different from other trees around it? Now look closely—who else is living in and on the bark that are parts of the tree’s community? Now feel the bark. Does the visual texture match the tactile texture? Is the bark flaky, spongy, hard? Now smell the bark. What chemical clues are present regarding the tree’s identity? Close your eyes and get to know that tree and its bark deeply. Reach around the tree and feel its diameter. Even if you do not know the name of this tree, you are developing a relationship with this being that is much deeper than what you had before. Threads of connection become ropes connecting us to the natural world.

Now, take a seat at the base of your new tree friend. Close your eyes and perhaps feel the sway of the tree in the wind as you lean against it. Tune into the feel of your body against the earth below and the tree behind you. Close your eyes and notice your own breathing. In your body and your mind’s eye, let yourself merge with this tree. Feel your roots go down into the ground and mingle with the roots of the other trees. The earth nurtures you and grounds you. Your body reaches to the sun, bringing in light and life.

Now, look at your coverings, your protective layers, your metaphorical psychological bark. What parts are serving you? Are there any layers that no longer serve you that could be shed like the birch? Imagine those layers peeling back, falling to the earth, and you better equipped to absorb all the light that is shining on you.