The language of trees, water, and earth

As a child, I spoke with plants, trees, and nature.

Every blade of grass had something to say. I spent whole days talking with nature — what it brought, how it worked, how everything was connected. As I grew older, I hid this communication beneath a layer of “being normal.” Being “not normal” had made me a target for rejection, and that hurt.

The pain didn’t make me forget.

I just stopped talking about it.

During one of the first recordings of The Sixth Sense, I was so nervous that I forgot to hide my “strangeness.” I spoke with a tree and found the girl who had been hidden in several hectares of parkland. And just like that, it was revealed to millions of people: Tessa talks to trees!

By now, it no longer matters much to me what people think of me.

That’s why I posted a video on Instagram and YouTube in which I communicated with a snail, another in which I communicated with an octopus, and one with an injured fish.

I know that nature helps you recharge.

And also helps you release — as I often do at the beach.

Nature helps you slow down.

To step away from everything for a moment.

But you can also connect with nature and her creations on a much deeper level.

Not with words.

Not with explanations.

But with presence.

The language of trees, water, and earth

Trees, water, earth, and animals carry consciousness information.

Not as ideas, but as living intelligence.

A tree does not think the way we do.

It is.

It stands.

It receives.

It responds.

It remembers.

A tree has a personality, but a very different kind of consciousness. Recently, a tree told me that it does not experience a storm as unpleasant. It is present in the storm. It does not resist. It simply is.

When you stand next to a tree and truly remain there — long enough for your own restlessness to settle — something remarkable happens.

Your thoughts slow down.

Your breath deepens.

Your body becomes heavier.

Your consciousness begins to merge with the tree.

As if, for a moment… you become a tree.

Not literally.

But energetically.

Becoming nature requires slowing down

Humans want to understand by analyzing.

Nature invites us to understand by being.

That requires:

slowing down

becoming quiet

not needing to do anything

Nature communicates through energetic contact. Through vibration. Through consciousness. This goes beyond telepathy.

Today, I was speaking harshly to my computer because it wouldn’t do what I wanted. A little later, I gave my plant some water — and I felt something. I apologized to the plant. I had made the energy in the room quite unpleasant. I apologize inwardly, in connection with the plant. I feel its consciousness and mine coming together. And yet…

Whoever is in a hurry misses her language.

Whoever has expectations hears noise.

Whoever keeps explaining who they are cannot listen.

“Becoming a tree”

There are moments when I sit in nature and notice how difficult this actually is.

Not moving.

Not searching for meaning.

Not immediately trying to get something.

I remember a morning when I stood beside an old tree.

I had questions — about direction, about work, about the next step.

I waited.

And waited.

And there was… nothing.

Until I felt it:

I was still standing there as a human with an agenda.

Not attuned to all that is.

Not as a being fully present.

When I opened my consciousness and let go of my questions (demands — oops, slight embarrassment), something shifted.

My body relaxed.

My attention sank.

And suddenly there was no question anymore — only connection.

The Earth Masters call this: allowing your identity to dissolve for a moment.

Not disappearing.

But pausing.

Communicating with nature requires letting go of identity

To communicate with nature requires:

time

presence

letting go of who you think you are

As long as you are “someone” — a seeker, a healer, a mother, a professional — something stands between you and nature.

Nature does not speak to roles.

She speaks to the consciousness beneath those roles.

“The Earth does not communicate with your story, but with your state of being.”

When you no longer need to be anything, exchange becomes possible.

We are children of the Earth, not its managers. We are one with the Earth.

Humans are used to using nature, explaining it, or trying to improve it.

But the Earth asks for something else.

Not: “What can I do?”

But: “I am one with you.”

Trees, water, and animals carry memories of millions of years.

They know how consciousness works.

And perhaps that is exactly what is being asked of us now:

not more knowledge,

but deeper attunement.

The invitation of the Earth Masters

The Earth Masters do not invite us to return to a primitive life.

Nor do they ask us to abandon what makes us human.

They invite us to become part again.

To slow down sometimes.

To be silent sometimes.

To become a tree sometimes.

Not because nature needs us —

but because we remember ourselves there again.