Take a walk, Talk to a tree

By Avani Anil Gudi

Education, at its core, is meant to be the nurturing of a human being—the mind, the heart, and the soul. With the evolution of its meaning in today’s time, education seems to have been reduced to a formula for earning a livelihood. It’s more or less basically a linear progression—grades, college, job, salary—one after the other, with no time to pause or sigh. And it is this perspective that has stripped education of off its deeper purpose. Of course, the obvious fear of survival is natural, and while it is valid, there is also a certain fear that modern society has cultivated and wrapped around itself, that masks any sort of creativity and self-reflection.

What education should really be about is going beyond acquiring skills or knowledge; It should open doors to understanding, curiosity, connection, and help us engage substantially with the world. It is not about preparation for an exam or a career – that’s called mugging up. It is in fact a preparation for life itself, and it begins with understanding ourselves. As kids, in schools, all we did was attend classes from 9 to 3, teachers read out of prescribed textbooks, made us copy notes and answers, appear for exams with a need for good grades, while what we really needed was a holistic environment.

Luckily enough, I had the opportunity to experience such type of schooling and receive that kind of education where I grew as a person, and not just as a student. When I was in the 6th grade in Rishi Valley School (KFI), we had an unusual homework in the module of ‘living organisms’ given to us by our science teacher: to choose a tree anywhere around the valley, sit with it every day for an hour or longer if we wished to, and become friends with it. In the vast green campus that we had, I decided to choose the Krishnamurti Banyan Tree, in short, the KBT. Each day, I would sit under its shade, noticing its rough bark, the ants crawling up its trunk, and seeing it sway with the wind. At first, it seemed a bit silly- how does one even become friends with a TREE. Puzzler. But eventually I think I came around to understand it. I gave it a shot by starting to talk to the tree. I would tell it about my day, share my thoughts that I would never share with anyone, and sometimes just sit quietly, listening to it rustle. Overtime, what started as a homework, began feeling like a friendship – a quiet grounded friendship. I felt a connection and an attachment that was as comforting as a warm hug.

It’s been 10 years now, and I still somewhat grapple with the purpose of this assignment. To get some clarity, I called up my teacher to ask what the purpose was. She said that it was to understand that learning does not have to be something technical, academic, and something that merely books can give. It is this spiritual learning that is also required, which helps us connect with nature, and be with another being. It wasn’t just about observing the physical aspects of the tree, rather also about having a relationship with it. A friend of mine had her own profound experience with her tree. Struggling with homesickness at a boarding school, she sought solace beneath her tree. There, she wept for an hour, and in the quiet embrace of the tree, she found a strange kind of comfort—a soothing presence that seemed to heal her in ways words cannot describe.

We always see the world very materialistically, as members so used to this urban society. A PhD in Agriculture might be one of the highest degrees, but it’s the farmer who is far more knowledgeable, because he is the one who has lived-connected with the earth.

And this is what I would call holistic growth. This exercise taught me patience, empathy, and how to pay attention. Education like this goes beyond academics. It teaches us how to live fully, to question with curiosity, to care for the world deeply, and it took me nine schools to understand this.

This connection with nature is one of the fundamentals of right education. We are all aware of the ways of the world and the way life becomes so frenetic, that you have no time to pause and think. For this, I think nature has a remarkable ability to clear the mind, allowing us to see things more clearly, and to be more in contact with yourself.

Moolikavana, conceptual garden at Agastya

Agastya here, has made that possible by building a sustainable space for learning rooted in local biodiversity of Kuppam. Its conceptual garden like the Moolikavana is thoughtfully designed to establish an “umbilical connection with human anatomy” as observed by Dr. Yelappa Reddy. The unique design of Moolikavana intertwines science and spirituality. By aligning each medicinal plant with the corresponding part of the human body it heals, the garden serves the fact of our interdependence with the natural world. It reinforces how the body and nature are intrinsically linked.