We are only beginning to understand what plants truly are and what they’re capable of.
Today I sat on the terrace, watching the magnificent spectacle of a massive thunderstorm raging over Banderas Bay. It was pouring. Just two days ago, after six months of almost no rain, the rainy season finally began.
The palm tree in front of the terrace was moving in the rain—it was practically writhing with pleasure, twisting to catch the water from every direction. Its movements couldn’t be explained by the wind alone. Whoever wants to prove me wrong: that palm was stretching in delight.
One of my course participants once shared that she heard the plants in her garden sigh when it finally rained in Germany after weeks of drought.
Can plants sigh? Or stretch? If you’re willing to see and listen—why not?
Life becomes so much more fascinating when you view it from a place of curiosity instead of feeling the need to have the right answer for everything. When you allow the wonder and magic to unfold—which is nothing more than that which can’t (yet) be explained by current means.
All of these reflections reminded me of a text from my collection about the brilliant abilities of plants:
Plants harvest light with almost perfect efficiency—which, according to classical physics, should be impossible. On its way to the photosynthetic nucleus, the photon should collide with countless particles—but it doesn’t. The odds of a photon reaching the nucleus are the same as if you sprinted blindfolded through a dense forest and somehow hit the exact center without crashing into a single tree.
Plants perform a kind of miracle: they place the photon into a state of quantum superposition and multiply it across every possible path it could take. Imagine you’re running blindly through a forest and are duplicated onto each of the billions of possible routes. If one of those versions is observed crashing into a tree, the superposition collapses, and that becomes the final outcome.
But the plant stubbornly refuses to observe any of those collisions.
In its nucleus, it continues to sing: LET THERE BE LIGHT!
When one of the versions finally reaches the nucleus, only that “winner” is observed. All other possibilities vanish. The winner is sent back through time from the future and becomes the only version that EVER EXISTED.
This is how photons reach the nucleus—with impossible precision.
This is how you, and every living being, overcome the overwhelming improbabilities of life.
This is how we come from the future.
This is how you will become the light of the world as we call forth, together, the sacred imperative:
LET THERE BE LIGHT!
Source: Garret John, 2014 on YouTube
29.06.2023