Ginkgo Trees & Communal Seasonality

Ginkgo trees have been inviting me to be in a practice of noticing and trusting in cycles and seasons. It’s a practice of resisting the American capitalist culture of non-stop productivity and instead attuning to the various phases needed to sustain life and commitment. 

The leaves of ginkgo trees around Lake Merritt in Oakland are well into yellowing and losing their leaves as we transition into winter. This stage of their annual cycle used to conjure melancholy in me because it meant the disappearance of the whale tale-shaped leaves that I adore but as my love of the tree has grown, so has my love of its cycle.

Without its leaves, the ginkgo tree is still a ginkgo tree. Losing leaves in the winter is a strategy, an opportunity to expend less energy and conserve moisture. What would be possible if we embodied a practice of losing our leaves? What if we allowed ourselves to lose our leaves, and conserve energy, for a season? 

A healthy ecosystem consists of many species that are individual yet move in cooperative cycles. In Oakland, while the ginkgo leaves are falling, persimmons are ripening and pomegranates are reddening and ready to be harvested. Could we align ourselves in such a way that we are in seasonal rhythms with our movement counterparts? Can we adopt a communal flow that allows some rest while others are in their season of production and harvest? 

The ginkgo makes me wonder: How can supporting and celebrating communal seasonality make the movement for liberation and dignity more sustainable? Could we mitigate burnout by adopting communal seasonality amongst ourselves? Could we align ourselves in a way that we are in seasonal rhythms with our movement counterparts?

Mariame Kaba reminds us, “Nothing that we do that is worthwhile is done alone”. We must concern ourselves with the collective, we must move in a way that serves that whole. Inviting a seasonal approach to the collective allows some to rest while others are active. Would we rest easier and allow ourselves to lose our leaves at times if we knew others were in their season of activity? 

I’m headed into this season and new year with more questions than answers, but what I do know is that the times we are in, and the ones to come will continue to demand our deepest and most steadfast acts of love, resistance, organizing, dignity, and, joy, imagination. I also know that the road to collective liberation is long and not one that we can walk alone or at constant full speed. Communal seasonality and attuning are strategies that can steady and sustain us. It offers us an opportunity to know each other deeper and to trust in the rest that moving in collective alignment can allow us.