Natural Reflections: Beithe
I skipped writing a Natural Reflections piece last month. Although it was a potent time with the winter solstice and I thought I had lots to say, I simultaneously felt the pull to rest and withdraw. Though that was a challenge in December as there was much to draw me to the outer world of socialising and celebration.
It would have been such an irony to write about rest and withdrawal whilst over extending in order to meet some idea that I should send a newsletter each and every month. Do you know the pull of your own ‘shoulds’? It’s one to watch, often an introjected, or internalised idea or attitude that has come from elsewhere (parents, idealised others, society) and worthy of chewing over its actual importance and value to you. Sometimes leaning in to the discomfort of not following shoulds can be revealing about what is driving them.
The real rest for me came after the Christmas celebrations were complete and I entered the in-between days which, as I dropped in, became increasingly liminal. With the absence of almost all commitment to others, I was able to feel more deeply in my being and bones what was being called for.
We were blessed in London with many bright, cold days post Yuletide. The ground, well and truly frozen, and the water in the bird bath needing twice daily defrosting. My wanderings in the neighbourhood and on Hampstead Heath allowed me to get close to Birch. With her luminous trunk, and in the older trees, pendulous boughs drawing my eye and then my body toward her. I noticed the difference between younger and older trees in a way I hadn’t before. The bark on younger trees, tissue like in the way it peels away, the older trees shedding thicker paperboard like sheets on the surrounding earth. The fallen Birch I spent time with had begun to decompose and the bark loosened from the trunk in rings.
As I pondered the busyness of 2025, and luxuriated in the spaciousness of the in-between days, perhaps inspired by my proximity to Birch, I had a strong sense of needing to let go of some of what has so fully occupied me over this last year - and recognised equally just how difficult I find this.
The spaciousness of the days only shored up this feeling, and a transition that I had begun to vaguely sense in the early Autumn began to feel a little more tangible to me.
There is much to learn from the qualities of Birch, and my time with her is allowing me to understand in ways that aren’t yet well articulated but are nevertheless felt in my body. How Birch lets go of her silvery bark, both tissue thin and paper thick, and continues to produce more layers of luminosity that include the scars of life.
Birch is a pioneer (or pathfinder) tree; it colonises cleared ground and is thought to be the first tree to populate the northern parts of this island after the last ice-age. It has an open canopy which encourages flowers and fungi and lower layers of a forest to establish. Birch is hardy, liking a cold climate and is relatively short lived (70 years) after which it rapidly decomposes, enriching the humus in which other flora can take root and grow. Ancient oak forests grew on the ground previously colonised by Birch.
Humans have a tendency to hang on to things, whether that’s relationships, beliefs or possessions that no longer serve us or the ecology of which we are a part. We become attached and their familiarity is itself a comfort - but attachment is not the same as love. And over time some of the things we hold on to can weigh us down rather than nourish us. The process of letting go is rarely straightforward though and requires us to confront emotions such as guilt and fear, and ideas about obligation and perseverance. It can also take us to a place of not knowing.
My own process of letting go is underway - perhaps not in ways that I might have expected (such as with clarity and milestones). This more an embodied knowing that my grip is helpfully loosening, and the process of letting go is beginning. I am drawn to the warmth of home and hearth in-between my long walks, to reflection and dreaming. And I’m curious about how this will unfold, what will come in the new beginnings of Spring, and how fertile the ground will be for new growth to unfurl.
Beithe (pronounced Bey) is the Celtic word for Birch, signifying renewal and new beginnings. It’s the tree for this time of the year, the first tree in the Celtic calendar and is the first letter of the Ogham alphabet. The root of the word gives us beauty and balance, which I hold along with the Birch twig I gathered to remind me of letting go - that one gives rise to the other.
Warmest of hearthside wishes.
Practices
Get to know Birch
On your walks (even in the city as she is a popular street tree) look out for Birch. Her silver/white luminous bark reflects light so is often easy to spot even at a distance
You might find one particular tree close to you that you can frequent through the year, say hello, and watch her cycle unfold. (You’ll notice that her buds are amongst the first to form in the early Spring). Notice what you are drawn to in her as the seasons turn and consider what qualities might be relevant in your own life.
You can collect her already shedded bark and use the young bark as a firelighter or create a ritual for yourself by making a fire with the thicker bark and symbolically burn what you are letting go of to create space for new beginnings.
Decluttering
Decluttering your physical space can be a helpful precursor to letting go of less tangible assets. Getting rid of ‘stuff’ can be both symbolic and a powerful act of letting go in and of itself.
Start with something small, like a drawer, or desk and remove items that no longer serve a practical purpose or bring you joy. This process is more than simply tidying up.
Start with practical things - do they serve a purpose, are they duplicated? Then move on to objects that have some other attachment associated with them. Letting go of these sorts of possessions is about releasing attachments and emotional baggage. The sort of emotional baggage that likely hinders your movement or growth.
If you find yourself getting stuck, ask for support from a trusted friend or therapist.
As your physical space becomes clearer and more organised you will likely feel more clarity and spaciousness within which may make it easier to let go of other aspects of your life such as beliefs or patterns that no longer serve you or the ecology of which you are a part.
Resources
To Speak for the Trees: My Life's Journey from Ancient Celtic Wisdom to a Healing Vision of the Forest, Diane Beresford-Kroeger https://www.abebooks.co.uk/Speak-Trees-Lifes-Journey-Ancient-Celtic/32342127477/bd
Finding the Mother Tree; Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest, Suzanne Simard https://www.worldofbooks.com/en-gb/products/finding-the-mother-tree-book-suzanne-simard-9780141990286?sku=NGR9780141990286
Year Compass; Year Compass is a free digital or printable booklet that helps you reflect on the year past and look towards the year ahead. Think less goal setting and more dreaming and intuiting. Year Compass