As I walked past the cemetery, I saw two trees.
Above the ground they looked like enemies —
leaning away from each other,
branches turning in opposite directions,
as if each was saying,
“You go your way, and I’ll go mine.”
To any casual eye, they were separate.
Opposed.
Divided.
But I know what the soil knows:
their roots are one system.
Below the surface, where truth lives,
those two trees are intertwined,
sharing nutrients, sharing strength,
holding each other through wind and winter
without ever being seen doing so.
This is the perfect parable of humanity.
We may grow in different directions.
We may develop different energies, beliefs, cultures, and expressions.
We may even appear to “fuck off” from one another
as we assert independence, identity, and personal sovereignty.
But beneath every disagreement, every cultural divide, every political border,
there is the same root system:
the one family of humanity.
We are connected whether we like it or not.
We draw from the same ancient soil.
We rise from the same unseen foundation.
When one branch breaks, the roots feel it.
When one tree grows weak, the other carries more weight.
When storms come, it is the shared root network that determines survival.
This is the truth the world forgets:
individuality does not cancel connection.
Difference does not erase unity.
Sovereignty does not mean isolation.
And conflict above ground does not sever the roots below.
The parable teaches:
• We can grow our own way without cutting others down.
• We can diverge without becoming enemies.
• We can honour our uniqueness while remembering our interdependence.
• And we can stand tall without losing the humility of shared origins.
Humanity is a forest pretending to be trees.
The moment we remember the root system beneath our divisions,
the world’s frequency shifts.