In The Forest
I see a great forest around me, its trees reaching far into the sky and more full of life than anyone that any of us have ever met. The trees grow several feet apart, apparently concerned for each other’s space. Large rocks, large enough to sit on, rest against one tree. That tree decided to grow around them, and its trunk curves around one particular stone in a slow embrace.
Life. It’s all about life. Everything is alive, even the tree stump that’s resting a few feet from the stones. Maybe the tree simply decided to be a stump that day instead of growing strong into the sky. I don’t know. I just know that there’s so much life in it that I can feel it from several feet away. It is no dead stump, nor was the tree ever hurt.
Between the trees large plants grow. The leaves of some could nearly wrap around my torso.
The soil beneath my shoes is clean, unsoiled by any form of pollution. There is only what is needed for all of the plants to grow beautiful, strong, and without end.
Even the sky is beautiful and feels clean. It’s unmarred. Were rain to fall from that sky I know that it would be pure, cool water. To drink it would be to drink a nectar of life; a purity unknown on Earth.
This forest is not just about life, it’s about the essence of life. Of being alive. Could I breath the soil instead of the air I could live a hundred years, never needing to touch any other sustenance.
This forest is a place of peace. None of the plants here are sick, none of them are in want of anything. No danger is posed to them, and none of them will ever die.
As I near one of the trees, I feel it. It feels me. Aong with the rest of the forest it fills my spirit with joy; the joy of carefree youth. I smile, and I can feel the spirit of the tree smile in response.
I reach the rocks that the tree has embraced. None of the large stones are cracked or marred in any way. The tree has not assaulted them, it is a true embrace. There is no ill will from the tree toward them, and the rocks happily rest within its fold. The tiny vines also growing around the rock do not squeeze it. The rocks know that they are in no danger, and the vines would never wish harm to them. They are friends.
These rocks, they’re larger than a person and I find them stacked in such a way that they’re the perfect shape and size for sitting. I do so, knowing that I mean the rocks and the vines no harm, and they know this too. They are happy. They welcome me.
I am not alone. There is another here. She sits some feet away from me on the stump. I realize that the stump is a stump today instead of a tree so that it can be her seat. I realize that the forest is welcoming us, Her and I. The stones have been waiting there patiently for me. I realize that, though I don’t know for how long, the forest has been waiting for me; for this moment.
This all fills me with a sense of happieness.
This forest is Her house. Suddenly, I realize that the pure life of the forest is simultaneously their silent song to her and exists due to her. Perhaps the forest is her. Perhaps, even, the whole world is her.
Were she to stand she would reach no higher than my chin, if that, though surely I would feel dwarfed next to her. Her fair complexion has a hint of unseen gold and is unblemished. Her hair, a perfect expression of golden blond, reaches somewhere to her mid back. Each slender, perfectly shaped shoulder hosts a single Celtic-style braid of her hair. Each braid has spheres of gemstones woven into them; one a turquoise, one a deep blue, one black, and others.
She wears a beautiful necklace of gemstones. Each stone is a slab, rectangular, and rests lightly on her chest. The center, largest piece is a turquoise, but the same stones that decorate her braids also decorate her necklace. When the string reaches the sides of her neck the slabs turn to beads, which grow smaller as they wrap to behind her neck.
The clothing that she wears looks comfortable. Certainly they allow for her skin to breath and to feel the occasional light breeze. They’re white, fit loosely and are stylishly poofy. Her pants are of the same design.
My Lady doesn’t smile, she doesn’t have to. There is a kind of gentleness about her spirit that reaches my spirit. She is very patient, and I know without a doubt that she is loving. She was expecting me, for how long I don’t know. There’s an openness about her. I know that I can talk to her about anything, ask her anything. There is no expectation or judgment. There is only my lady’s patience, her love, and the Life of the forest around me.
My Mind. It starts to pull me back. What had released my spirit and allowed me to come to this great forest, this place of archetypal life, is waking back up and is pulling me back to our world. I do not wish to go, I did not even get to tell My Lady hello, yet I have no choice. My mind is awaking, and the forest flies away below me in a blur.
She is patient. I feel her sigh, as she had been waiting, but it is a sigh of patience. She knows that a second chance will come as I bounce blindly about in my Earthly life. I know that she will always be there.. even if she has to look away from time to time.
Now when I think of the place I can imagine small satyrs dancing around fairy circles as they play their pan flutes, and beings of the forest dance around in circles in merriment. She watches them, stands with them, smiling, enjoying the Life expressed by all of them.
~Steph
Topics: Spiritual Experiences |
June 20th, 2006 at Jun 20, 06 | 12:33 pm
[…] I have always wondered of the name of my Lady of the forest. It would be nice to have a name to associate with the one that I call “My Lady”, but I’ve always been extremely critical of any information that I’ve come across. I want to make sure that I’m honoring m’lady and not disrespecting another diety, or not giving m’lady’s respect to another. […]
March 26th, 2007 at Mar 26, 07 | 9:32 pm
[…] an essence of life… to all living things; “as a continuous breath”. Read In The Forest for an […]