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The Earth doesn’t ‘want’ for this tree to survive, for whether it grows upwards or dissolves into her, the tree is the earth. She doesn’t want or wish the conditions of herself to be different to what they are - she evolves in surrender, reincarnating into her shifted timelines with grace. Her drama is a creative expression - whether ice or fire, she has no preference - she is it all.
There is a persistent silence that precedes all sound. The still void holds each sound as a wave that passes through it. You can’t get behind the silent canvas. In the same way, it is our consciousness that holds space for every thought, every experience, and every emotion to pass through. Our pure being, this background containing self, is the first and last instance to any circumstance. We can’t get behind it. When you sink far back enough or become still in that deepest of places, you’ll find no boundary to it - no time, no point in space it occupies, for it is space itself.
