Treewalker: Mario Dieringer

A portrait of the man behind Trees of Memory

I was twenty years old when I first heard of Mario Dieringer in my local newspaper. On a Sunday morning, still deeply submerged in traumatic grief after having lost a significant other to suicide, my mother placed an odd article on the kitchen table in front of me: a man was coming to town to plant a tree and talk about surviving the unsurvivable. Trapped in traumatic memories, I couldn’t have imagined that this stranger’s visit would plant something in me too: a seed of hope.

Years later, I would meet Mario again. We would sit in a book cafe in Berlin, I would take his portrait, and I too would have survived the unsurvivable. His face now weathered by thousands of kilometres on foot, his eyes carrying both the weight of loss and an unmistakable spark of purpose. A German journalist who sold everything he owned, packed a custom hiking wagon with 100 kilograms of gear and set out to walk around the world with his dog Tyrion, planting dozens of trees for suicide victims along the way.

But Mario Dieringer's story doesn't begin with hope. It begins, like so many stories about transformation, in the absolute depths of despair.

Until 2011, Mario lived what appeared to be a charmed life as a TV journalist for German and international broadcasters, the perpetual optimist whose life was "basically one big celebration." No assignment was too adventurous, no journey too far-flung.

Then, at 46, he collapsed. What seemed like burnout was severe depression. Terrified by his own suicidal thoughts, he checked himself into a psychiatric facility for six months. Mario survived and rebuilt his life. He fell in love with José, who also struggled with depression but refused treatment. In December 2014, Mario attempted suicide and was clinically dead for five minutes before being resuscitated. José found him and saved his life. Eighteen months later, after an argument about treatment, José took his own life. "That I, of all people, would trigger his suicide will forever remain a dark shadow," Mario says.

His depression returned with crushing force. "When I had no more energy to continue," he recalls, "the thought of Trees of Memory came flying in and changed everything." The concept came to him in the shower: walk around the world and plant trees in memory of those lost to suicide. "At first, I thought I'd really lost my mind," Mario admits. "But hours later, it was clear: either you do this or you'll be dead in four weeks." In 2017, he founded Trees of Memory as a nonprofit organization, providing suicide prevention work and support for bereaved families.

That evening four years ago, when I first heard Mario speak, something inside of me shifted. I was so tormented by survivor’s guilt and regret that I thought I had been condemned to a lifetime of sorrow. I did not see a way out of the hole I was living in, and just like him, I felt haunted by the thought of death. At the end of that night, Mario pulled me in for a hug and spoke with profound sincerity and conviction:”It will get better.”

In 2018, on the second anniversary of José's death, Mario officially begins his walk around the world. He sets out from Cologne to Frankfurt and plants the first Tree of Memory. Leaving everything behind, what remains fits into his custom-built hiking wagon: tent, sleeping gear, cooking equipment, technical equipment, batteries, clothes. One hundred kilograms total.

But he wouldn't be making this journey alone.

His four-legged friend Tyrion is a dog rescued from a Bulgarian animal shelter, a gift from friends who knew Mario needed a companion for the road ahead. Together, Mario and Tyrion set out, creating an unusual sight: a middle-aged man and his shelter dog, pulling a wagon topped with a sign reading "I'm walking around the world and planting trees of memory for suicide victims," the Trees of Memory logo displayed prominently alongside the website address.

They sleep in a tent or under the stars. Their route is determined by tree planting requests and invitations to give talks. Mario has no fixed schedule, no rigid itinerary, just an unwavering commitment to show up wherever he's needed.

Mario and Tyrion have walked almost twenty-thousand kilometres through Europe, planting over 70 trees. From Germany, the journey has expanded through Austria, Slovenia and other European countries. Each tree planting is a ceremony, often attended by the families of those being remembered. Mario doesn't just plant a tree and move on, he stays, he listens, he shares his own story. He offers something that few others can: the perspective of someone who has stood on both sides of suicide, as both a survivor of attempts and as someone bereaved by loss.

"I can explain, I can perhaps answer some of the tormenting questions that haunt those left behind and I show that you can get back up again."

While the tree plantings form the heart of the project, Trees of Memory has expanded beyond Mario's footsteps. The organization operates "first contact points" in twelve regions across Germany, pairing bereaved families with volunteer mentors who have experienced suicide loss themselves.

Mario's journey has drawn significant media attention, appearances on German television, countless newspaper articles, over 10,000 Instagram followers tracking his progress. But the real impact lives in the people moved by Mario’s impact, people like myself.

When I met Mario in Berlin, years after that first tree planting in my town, I was struck by how the same qualities that made him gleam as a young journalist still shine through, now tempered with a groundedness, a hard-won wisdom that comes from having wandered to the darkest places the human psyche can go and finding a way back.

The journey remains a work in progress. Mario walks during warmer months, taking winter breaks to rest and plan. Each spring, he and Tyrion hit the road again, following invitations and tree requests.

For someone who once believed he had no alternative but death, Mario Dieringer has become a living embodiment of another path: transformation through purpose, healing through helping others, and the radical act of putting one foot in front of the other, even when you can't see where it leads.

One of the first things Mario said to me when he sat down across from me in that cafe in Berlin was: “You are shining, and you look so much happier”.

Somewhere along the roads of Europe, a man and his dog are walking. Behind them, a ribbon of trees. Ahead of them, thousands more kilometres to go. Beside them, invisible but present, all the people they've touched along the way, the ones still here and the ones remembered, connected by a network of roots growing deep, by the simple, profound act of planting a tree and saying: You mattered. You are not forgotten. And for those still here: keep walking.

To learn more about Trees of Memory or to request a tree, visit treesofmemory.com. If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, please reach out to a crisis helpline in your country. In Germany: Telefonseelsorge (0800-111 0 111 or 0800-111 0 222). You are not alone.