2012. május 9., szerda

Hitch-hiking, Budapest, Trees

A Canadian hitch-hiker reads the Trees by Béla Hamvas while traveling

I get out a book I bought in Hungary by Béla Hamvas, Fák (Trees).  I feel good with my back on the dirt and my head nestling in tangled roots. The light that is managing to filter through the branches above me is very weak, and I can only make out a few paragraphs; they are somehow stunning, their authenticity immediate in my environment: 
The surging growth of the tree as it wells up from the deep is without cease, for it has grown to be one with its nourishment. It is in unceasing contact with its nutriment. Its growth is unceasing. It is nourished by the earth. The tree ingests the earth, reaching ever more deeply into its soil. Yet the tree is no parasite. It does not destroy the earth, but offers it, rather, the chance to make a gift of itself. The binding tie is mutual: the roots drill deep into the soil for gain, while the earth draws the roots into itself, so that it may give. The fact that something exists does not by itself make it meaningful; everything that exists gains meaning through its being given away. This is the basis of every relationship and in this particular relationship the one who gives is more profoundly obliged than the one who receives, because the obligation arises not out of need but out of plenitude. One is never truly compelled to fill in gaps and items lacked by others; what is compelling is the giving away of what one does not oneself need. The giver is more in the debt of the receiver than vice versa. His appreciation is also more profound, being in addition a triumph and a matter for pride. The unsung noblesse of giving is just like that of the earth.
 Source here