Are You Dying Inside?

You should be doing something, shouldn’t you? Fixing that problem you’ve had for awhile or maybe attending to the needs, the ever-present needs of others? Isn’t there a lingering issue with your mother, father, brother, sister, lawn jockey that you OUGHT to be addressing? Hmm? The answer is yes. The answer is always yes and it will forever be yes and here’s why.

On April 3rd I made a discovery. I was chained to a desk while I scribbled away at some ancient scrolls for the gnomes, who are decent enough employers but tend to get agitated when you look them straight in the eye. Anyway, gnome work is tedious work and they expect you to get it all done and quickly with no help whatsoever while they walk by every third hour and yell “EFFICIENCY” at the top of their lungs. All this to say, I desperately needed a podcast to keep me company and so I chose one about deadwood.

“Stumps rotting and decaying in the forest, Leah? Are you okay??” No and neither are you but that’s why we’re here so let’s keep at it. I put on a podcast about stumps (which are deadwood in the forest) because I was curious. We see stumps fairly often in the woods and there’s nothing particularly extraordinary about them right off the bat. Generally speaking, as a casual hiker, I’d always considered them to be a bad thing. A tree fell in the woods and is now dead, oh no! And in front of all of this friends too! Now it’s just a little stump in the woods, rotting away while everyone waits for it to be gone so a new tree can grow. That’s accurate right? Wrong. Deadwood is not only a non-issue, it is an essential part of a forest’s health.

Back to the gnomes. The Gnomes are always upset that something isn’t quite right. They like to have meetings where they call everyone in together to talk about perfection as a fixed point and we’re all just working on getting there. “Don’t worry!” They say. “You’re all so sad in your little imperfectionist ways but we believe in you. You can pull it together. At least, you’d better pull it together by Q3 or else. Ahahaha, we’re joking!” And then they stare you down like they are absolutely not joking. The gnomes would have us believe that everything we are currently doing, have done, and will do is to serve the Greater Purpose of Perfection. As if the mere thought of anything rotting is a thought to be packed up and cleaned away, much like I used to think deadwood ought to be. But they are wrong and so was I.

Now back to deadwood. Deadwood includes stumps, fallen trees, and generally anything wood that is dying in the forest. (Waited forever for that shoe to drop didn’t you?) This can include fallen trees in creeks and rivers, standing stumps, branches that have fallen, and even stacks and piles of wood made by forest managers. Deadwood isn’t just something that nature is carefully trying to sweep away like nail clippings. These pieces of the forest are actually life giving. They provide habitats for fish, mammals, and birds. They are a source of nutrients for a variety of critters and encourage the growth of mushrooms, mosses, and other living things. According to the podcast, a forest needs as much as 30% of its ecosystem to be deadwood in order to thrive.

Think about that, the living things that keep the forest in a cycle of health have to have the deadwood in order to perpetuate life. What I looked at as a thing to be removed is the very thing that is contributing to the overall health and wellness of the forest. Can you imagine if we went around plucking those necessary microhabitats from where they ought to be? We’d have lawns, that’s what. And lawns don’t breed alot of life. They look nice, but they are not living like a forest.

A forest is complex. It’s not seeking perfection, in fact, it is imperative that “perfection” not exist in order for the forest to go on existing. Where on earth would the bats, beetles, and other bugs go if not for the things that lay dying? How would the mycelium, that are so essential to biodiversity, grow without the death of a living thing? If we swept up all the deadwood and whisked it away, pronouncing these forests “Cleaned up and ready to go!” we would be signing the long term death warrant for an ecosystem that could, thus far, support itself. Which brings me to my next point.

All over the digital world there are tips and tricks and trials by fire for achieving perfection. Even the healing community has taken hold of this radical accountability, this striving for improvement, this forced cleaning of our forest floors. “Nobody wants to see your deadwood!” They say. “Don’t hold onto it, set it free! Clean it up and let it go!” This mentality has been in books and pamphlets before, but has recently been made popular by algorithms. Because of those algorithms, it’s now seeping out of the mouths of people I love and people I overhear at breakfast bars and even, dare I say it, the goddamn gas station where the tiny TVs are selling you on leveling up. All of these messages are funneling into one thing: The old dead thing is bad and we ought not to hold onto it, talk about it, or acknowledge it. I think that’s a load of shit. I think, and have experienced firsthand, the necessity of deadwood in the bones, in the brain, in the soul. Why are we trying to hurry the dying? There is so much life happening there. Why are you ashamed of the stumps and the fallen trees in your creek? They’re housing little fishes, their homes to a wealth of strongly interconnected mycelium, they’re an essential source of nutrients for worms. What on earth are you apologizing for? The deadwood is there for a reason, let it sit. It’s doing essential work that keeps your forest alive. Without it you’d never be as rich and full of life. You don’t have to make it your focal point, after all, 30% is not a majority. The forest is still blooming and beautiful above you. But god I wish we could all stop pretending like perfection is the goal and that your deadwood is something to be ashamed of.

The gnomes want lawns because they think they thrive there. They’ve forgotten they used to live in hollowed out trees and are now instead made of plastic and forced to sit for the neighbors. And that’s fine for them. They can deny their origin all they want to but you and I? You and I are forests. You and I are deserts. You and I are ecosystems and we need deadwood to thrive. There are certainly areas of my life I’d love to sweep up in a maintenance truck and haul away. “Look at these beautiful azaleas!” I could tell people instead of apologizing for the problem of fallen trees they have to step over or stumps that used to be something but are not now. But that’s also the point. They used to be something and they are something still, just something different. They used to be trees that were homes to birds, now they are stumps that are homes to critters and breath cycles (and sometimes, still birds! You really ought to listen to the episode.)

So yes, there is something wrong with you, something dead and dying, but there always will be and that’s exactly as it should be. In order for your forest to thrive things have to die and in order for those dying things to give you the benefit of their nutrients, you must leave them to their natural process. So the next time someone has the nerve to say something silly like, “I see your deadwood and something ought to be done about that!” I hope you have the courage to smile and say, “Something is being done about it and frankly, it’s none of your business.”

This blog is an excerpt from the Little Magick Things Substack. Facts about deadwood were researched via RadioLab’s Stumpisode & The Heart of England Forest. I don’t pretend to be a scientist. This correlation was researched lightly to be used in the poetic sense. Frankly, I liked the way the words tumbled around in my mouth before I said them. For a more detailed look at deadwood, checkout this study about Ecological Indicators.