Tree planting: Tree of Memory

by Mario Dieringer

Here you can read the speech that Mario Dieringer wrote and delivered independently of the Museum of Sepulchral Culture for the tree planting!

„Seit ich am 31.März 2018 mein früheres Leben endgültig hinter mir gelassen habe und mit TREES of MEMORY begonnen habe durch Deutschland, als erste Station um die Welt zu laufen, gab es sehr viele herausragende Momente. Jeder Tag, den ich neu erlebt habe wurde zu einem außergewöhnlichen Ereignis, dem ich wie ein kleiner Junge auf dem Jahrmarkt, mit großen Augen begegne. 

Today, four years after my first step out into the world and five years after the emergence of my vision of TREES of MEMORY, to stand here in the Museum for Sepulchral Culture and to become a permanent part of the museum as part of the special exhibition “Suicide – Let’s talk about it” is a great honor. 

An honor that deeply obliges all of us involved in this unique project – the run around the world, the planting of the memorial trees, and the associated non-profit organization. A gratitude I will, exceptionally, put into words on this special occasion. First of all, a huge thank you to all the initiators, those responsible, the organizers from the museum, and the museum management who supported our participation, made it possible, and implemented everything so wonderfully. 

Then a special greeting and thanks to Professor Schneider from Cologne, who is also the curator of this exhibition. In 2018, I had the opportunity to work with her on a cool, multi-part video project in which I was able to talk about suicidality and all its interconnections across various areas of the psyche. These videos have since been used in academic teaching, offering young people, aspiring psychologists, and physicians new perspectives and changed viewpoints on the topic of suicide, which is otherwise rarely discussed publicly. In this way, TREES of MEMORY can perhaps also set important precedents for therapists and caregivers, contributing to a compassionate and respectful approach that enables positive treatment. Thank you very much for that, and I sincerely hope—and I say this with a twinkle in my eye—that in class I'm only referred to as "crazy," meaning someone who's been moved to a new place in life, and not as some particularly curious, pathological case that everyone has to see. 

My deepest and most heartfelt thanks go to Iris Pfister, who is not only the third board member of the association, but also, in a way, its very soul. Iris shares a key character trait with me: she's proactive, she gets things done, she acts on intuition, and she knows what bereaved people need and what will do them good. She was the first person to write to me and say, "Your project is so amazing, it simply has to be supported. How can I help you?" Today, she helps so many people and carries on what has also taken shape in my heart, but which I, for various reasons, cannot do myself because I'm busy running and planting trees. Without Iris, I certainly wouldn't be standing here today. 

Shortly thereafter, the first chairman, Gunter Huhn, joined the team. He probably still thinks I'm completely crazy, but on our first meeting, he sensed deep in his soul how serious I was about TREES of MEMORY. Gunter has never lost anyone to suicide, so I'm all the more touched and proud that the vision of a green ribbon of hope and remembrance around the earth has stayed with him and driven him to take new steps, to make a statement, to inspire courage and hope, and to guide the association through the legal maze with great dedication and even more time. A huge thank you to you as well.

And a final thank you goes to all the people who dedicate their energy to making TREES of MEMORY a reliable and helpful institution in the field of suicide aftercare and suicide prevention. This naturally includes our second board member, Mario Kelter, who, together with his wife Sandra, supports bereaved families as patrons of the first point of contact in Saarland.

Thanks also to Sonja Hofrichter and Ildi Wittner, who have taken over the organization of the tree plantings in the meantime, which takes up a lot of time.  

And of course, a huge thank you to every single sponsor of the initial support centers of the TREES of MEMORY e.V. association, who help build bridges back to life, who actively help in the first weeks and months when a suicide has shattered a life into a million pieces, and who have often themselves experienced the drama and tragedy of a suicide that divided their lives into a normal before and a terrible after. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart, as well as the many members of the association who make its existence and work possible. Without you, my vision and the run around the world would not be half as valuable. Without you, the great safety net that will one day catch people from all over the world cannot be spun. 

Part of this very special support, which can enable an emotional new beginning for those left behind after a suicide, are the Trees of Memory. This medlar tree is one such example, and I have the honor of planting it today as the 37th Tree of Memory here in Kassel. 

This tree symbolizes all suicide victims, to whom we would like to give a piece of remembrance and to whom we would also like to say thank you for having been in our lives, enriching them and contributing in a variety of ways to shaping each of us – both during our lifetime and afterwards. 

Every 40 seconds, someone on this planet takes their own life. That's over a million people who had to choose the uncertainty of death over the continuation of a hopeless present. 

The vast majority of you fell victim to the final symptom of various mental illnesses: anxiety, panic attacks, and severe depressive crises. You not only became victims of various illnesses without a future, but you also lost sight of it because, in most societies around the world, there is still no space to talk about suicide or to get help when dark thoughts arise. Thoughts that initially frighten. Thoughts that one eventually comes to terms with. Thoughts that, in the third stage, become friends. Thoughts that are ultimately accepted as a possible way out. 

But those who have suicidal thoughts are ostracized, lose reputation, friends, sometimes their partner, family, and occasionally even their job. Religions condemn those who have taken their own lives because they have squandered God's gift and, according to their doctrine, committed a mortal sin. Suicide is one of the great intercultural taboos. It is perhaps the most misunderstood tragedy of our time. 

The person who dies by suicide is still wrongly referred to as a murderer – a suicide victim. Yet murder is a treacherous act motivated by base motives, such as greed, jealousy, or the concealment of a previous crime. What is treacherous about bringing about one's own end? Are hopelessness, persistent pain, endless sadness, or the final "End it now" from a sick, commanding mind against which one cannot defend oneself base motives and the mark of treachery? Suicide is not murder. This is also what the Trees of Remembrance symbolize, transforming the stigmatized and criminalized "suicides" back into people who were loved. 

A Tree of Memory is also a symbol of dignity, strength, and compassion. Suicide is a tragedy, sometimes preceded not even by a cry for help. 

It is the result of ignorance, bad advice, the thought "nothing will happen", treatment that comes too late, and a chain of many unfortunate circumstances that ultimately turn the suicidal person no longer into an agent of their own life, but into a driven victim.

I experienced this firsthand. I survived a suicide attempt, only being resuscitated, and as if that weren't enough, two years later my partner took his own life. At a certain point, long before we were together, he was beyond help – partly because he refused it. Was he still the one in control? No, in the end, the mutually reinforcing circumstances led to his death as well.

With TREES of MEMORY, I set out to raise awareness of the increasing number of suicides worldwide. I don't want to stand by and watch, but rather offer help to those left behind and be a source of encouragement to suicidal people. I want to give what was so often denied to me. I was at rock bottom, I was a victim, I was dead, there was no future left. 

Nevertheless, or perhaps precisely because of this, I stand here again today. Not entirely free from my depression, which is barely noticeable anymore, but without any suicidal thoughts, which, thank God, have become as absurd as they were back when depression hadn't yet taken hold of me. Suicidal thoughts are not my friends; they are not a lifeline, and for me personally, they don't represent a legitimate way out of any situation, because after every rain comes sunshine, no matter how long the rainy season lasts.

The last four years have taught me a great deal about life and our existence. Death has taught me the most important lessons about life. Dying shows me anew each day how we must not treat people who have lost their partner, child, spouse, parent, or friend to suicide. It is death that makes life possible and, now and then, shows us all a bright future when the grayness of life threatens to tip into the hopeless blackness of night. 

Every tree that has been planted shines like a candle in the darkness, powered by memories, a beacon of hope for all those who harbor doubt and fear, whose lives resemble hell more than lives valued by compassion and respect. Every tree says: Don't give up. 

Your strength, your hope, and your future are not extinguished, even if it feels that way. I am living proof of that. All the bereaved people I have met have shown me that only unconditional acceptance of what has happened and of the present paves the way to a future that will never be the same as it once was. But it will be—even though someone will always be missing. It will be fulfilling and happy again. Just a different kind of happiness. Those who do not accept remain trapped in perpetual suffering and the cry of "Why?"

Accepting what cannot be changed also taught me to reconsider hope, which we so often see as a wish-fulfillment machine. But hope is simply the trust that we can always overcome whatever the universe or our karma throws our way. Hope is the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out – as Václav Havel said. Hope means enduring the meaninglessness of a tragedy, accepting it, finding meaning in it, or developing a purpose for life from it. Those who hope trust solely in their own inner strength and in their ability not to be broken by blows of fate and afflictions of any kind. 

The more I run, the clearer it becomes that only a life lived in being promises a sustainable future, while a life lived in having comes to an end when having is swept away in life's storms. Being can never be taken from anyone—ever. The answer to the question "who am I?" could perhaps even become the most important antidepressant and, moreover, a shield that preserves happiness. The separation of the self from having often brings mental illness and death. Meanwhile, the self, together with being, forms an inseparable connection that can be used to give one's life a new and fulfilling meaning, even after the worst blows of fate. TREES of MEMORY is one such example of this. 

"Who am I?" is the guiding thread in life, enabling each individual to achieve incredible things and providing a sense of purpose that is perhaps even greater than one's own ego. This path, which I have been walking for four years now, has also taught me a fundamental trust in life. I have relearned to listen to the connection between mind, heart, and gut feeling—in other words, to my intuition. It was always there, really, but in the noise of life and the many "you must do this and that," I often ignored it. That was a mistake, because intuition always shows us the right path—regardless of the many arguments for or against something. I follow my heart unconditionally, and from this has emerged a life that, despite loss, pain, endless grief, and the many moments when I long for my partner and my old life, has led to an incredible life that brings new surprises every day. A life that is open to everything that comes its way.

I have learned humility and much for which I have no words in the face of the great movement in which our lives are embedded. I have come to understand that the soul knows neither "I" nor "mine," because there is something much greater and shared—something most of us cannot see. Above all, each of us is one thing: pure soul.

Therefore, TREES of MEMORY is not mine, not yours, not yours, not ours. TREES of MEMORY is the endeavor of all involved to serve life in their own personal way and to set a sign of love, hope, courage, strength, and remembrance. 

All these trees represent individual journeys that are far from over, in life as well as in death. Journeys that may be beginning anew at this very moment. This medlar tree represents millions of people who did not make it. It represents millions of bereaved families, for whom it is meant to offer a new beginning. It represents the courage to take the first step towards a new beginning, for all those who face only darkness. 

And she represents the 28 people and individual fates who have taken their own lives in the past minutes of my speech, and whose innocent individual fate becomes the unintended trigger of unimaginable suffering, crying out loudly for help, which is often not heard and in many places denied. 

For all these people, for your loved ones and everyone who is personally dear to you, let us now plant this medlar tree, to whose roots we add the TREES of MEMORY box, which you have all filled with your personal words and memories. 

Ich danke Ihnen dafür, dass Sie Teil dieses Momentes werden und Damit auch Anteil an TREES of MEMORY nehmen.“