I huddled alone until the day that plucky woodpecker tickled me out of my respite. Its knocking began to dissipate my slumberous fog. I saw light again, and felt its warmth. My smiling branches hugged the open sky, while the freeze-thaw pressure in my roots awakened my blood as well. A cerulean warbler toting a caterpillar paused in a branch. It tilted its head at me for a moment to say good morning, and check this feast out. I was impressed.
With a hearty stretch, my leaves burst open with the song of joy that had hid in my dreams, and my xylem cells became photoautotrophic straws to the sky.
The cat in my branches breweled at a pair of wood ducks on their way to the annual duck-goose river scrimmage reenactment, where everyone floated around at each other, then partook in riverside leafy green refreshments, then floated around at each other some more. The cat continued its commentary on the degradation of ornithological society these days, and how, back in its day, duck quacks were special. They did not echo, but now some sort of knowledge experts said a quack was like any other sound. Its echo worked perfectly fine. And the sun smiled, and kept on shining.
Then the sun’s bright smiles turned golden, and the shining blue of the clear sky deepened into violet. The sleepy full that came after a long meal settled in my petioles. My chlorophyll started to die, and once the green faded, my natural yellow carotene highlights were allowed to show through. We leafy ones always dressed colorfully for the Harvest Fest, where we celebrated abundance as well as the impending sleep. Wistful with memories, we wished each other sparkling dreams for the long slumber ahead.
In that sleep, I dreamed of possibilities. I dreamed where my leaves fell, crumpled with stored packets of sunshine, patience, and love. My leaves fell in layers, and broke into tiny pieces that mingled with frozen ice. Death howled outside my dreams, trying to find me and wake me. But I reached deep in the ground and hid in slumber, and was never found. I dreamed of running, dancing, and exploring. Each dream movement kept me just out of the reach of the one who would leave me as a bodiless spirit to wander. And of wandering I also dreamt.
I awoke that year to a new force within my heartwood. It was stronger than magnets. It was a wanderlust that burned like wildfire as it consumed every cell in my body. I would have gladly turned to ashes in order to travel with the wind.
My wanderlust grew stronger yet. I sent my intention to the others, with whom I shared my heart and my life. They loved me in return and understood my need to live an experience that was only possible in another state of being, with a different body.
The moment between sleep and awake holds infinite possibilities. We pass through that moment so many times throughout our lives. It is a moment of nothing. It is a moment of possibilities. We flicker from existence, and trip over the nothingness as we fall to and from sleep. It was the perfect balance between consciousness and unconsciousness, where one could be anywhere and nowhere at the same time.
My goal, enlightened by my hibernation, was to harness that moment.
I put a lifetime of concentration into that instant between awake and asleep, and released myself from my roots. My body stayed, and swayed slightly in the breeze. Tiny purple flowers grew around my feet. I floated in a place that words couldn’t touch, only colors, shapes, and raw energy.
The others, who were not exactly others, and I shared shapes and colors in that space, that was not exactly space. We floated around with our experiences, and only a vague smudged line of what differentiated our pasts from other pasts.
In that place where opposites were the same, I found not quite a book, because words were too limiting where I was. But book sufficed as well as any reference material. In it was listed every vessel in which a spirit could inhabit. I considered my options carefully, and chose one which seemed to hold an interesting contingency. The option put me in a place to learn a great deal.
I wanted to have a human experience.
I floated in that space for however long, because time did not exist there. I had to wait for the right door to open. When I found it and floated through, everything I had been in that space of opposites got sucked away. My dreams and memories were locked in a vault of forgetfulness.
The world became dark and squishy. I paused a moment in another between place, then took the first deep breath from my new form.
~
I was back among the Birches.
I felt the sun on my shoulders, a breeze around my neck. I could do nothing but stare back at my ancestral relations in silence while my story rested in my heart. My rational mind, that thought it knew everything, was a little disconcerted with this new information. I told it to rest a moment because sometimes there are more important and real things than can be rationalized, especially when new information becomes apparent. Just because something was unbelievable, didn’t mean it lacked truth.
Two stately Birches strode toward me with an air of love and justice. Their familiarity overwhelmed me, and I knew they were my propagators.
“We missed you,” one said. “We chose to let you explore the universe as you needed without interference.”
The other added, “Though we did send sentries out to check on you. You seemed to be doing well and generally enjoying your human experience. They always came back sleepy, though.”
“The world, or at least the tiny part I lived in, could be exhausting,” I explained. “There was a lot of keeping busy without really doing much. One could often feel an unnerving buzz in the air of Doing What You’re Supposed To. And these squishy bodies are always needing things. Not enough food, too much food, cold, hot, sticky, achy, tired, stinky, crampy. Part of the constant business was maintaining body functions. I missed being a tree without knowing that was my true past. I used to put my feet in the dirt, sit in the sun, and pretend I was photosynthesizing. Sometimes I got a sunburn, but mostly I got vitamin D. I’m sorry I forgot I was a tree.”
“You would have likely lessened the richness of your experience as a person, had you remembered your treeness. Rather than live your human experience, staying present in the moment, you might have constantly been comparing. You might have tried returning to your tree body before you were satisfied with your human experience out of frustration. By the way, your tree body is still functioning automatically in your absence. We watch over it.”
“Oh.” Hmm. The possibilities. Not yet. “Not yet. That is good to know, though. There were times I was so fed up with being a person that I wanted to end it. Life seemed ingrained with doubts, regrets, and guilt. Pacing the mainstream fringe, labeled weird and insubordinate. I learned it took courage to be strange. The mundane was reserved for the less adventurous. There was so much judging.
“Pain was everywhere. It seeped from cracks in the sidewalks. It was often so overwhelming I would sit in my room and turn my frustrations to tangible, salty tears. But. There were beautiful moments too. Like board games by candlelight when there was a thunderstorm outside, or toasted peanut butter and raspberry sandwiches, or oil paints.”
The trees swayed around me knowingly. They valued living with a sincere heart, and the creative power fueled by eccentricities. Tears of relief sparkled on my cheeks as I stood among those who understood.
Memories of spring plantings and fall harvests started to push through the walls of my consciousness. I felt blocks dissolving in my mind, as I sat with my new old friends and discussed cycles, sunshine, and the meanings of real unconditional love.
Trees had a special capacity to love. They cut out all unnecessary hindrances, judgments, and fears. Certain bugs, weather conditions, and various sharp metal objects gave trees hesitations, but overall, their capacity to take their stand without judgment created an astounding base for love.
We wove stories through the afternoon. Solace entered my wounded heart and gave lift to my soul. I found my people, and they were trees.
*~*
I skipped through the forest with love flowing from my toes and fingertips. The sun neared the angle at which Puddle and I h
ad decided to meet. Skipping got me there faster than walking, and with much joy.
Puddle sat on a rock by the bridge. He was spending a moment with Rowan. They were both dipping their toes in the river, and offered me some of their lunch of rowanberry chutney and eggplant delight. I saw biscuits and berry jam stashed for later.
After we ate quietly in the delight of each other’s presences, Rowan asked, “Have you had a good look at your energy centers lately?”
I tilted my head, “You mean chakras? Sort of. I have been working with different layers of myself. The last fire dance burned away a lot that was keeping me down. But that wasn’t with chakras.”
Puddle asked, “Are tree chakras and our chakras similar?”
“We all have centers of energy,” answered Rowan. “You and I both have roots and a crown, and ones in between. Your chakra placements can translate also to, say, that squirrel’s chakra placements. You are both animals.”
“I’m a Birch tree too. I just happen to be in this body for now.”
Puddle glanced over in surprise, which turned to a silent that makes sense.
Rowan continued, “Our chakras are useful as lenses to our inside landscapes. When they’re clear and flowing, we tend to find our tasks easier to handle. When they’re muddled, we become stuck as well.”
“Oi!” Puddle exclaimed. “We did an exercise with the Pines near the time we arrived in Veorda. We created energy orbs that we used as lenses to look at our inside selves.”
Rowan shook its branches to acknowledge the usefulness of the energy orb scan, and asked, “Would you like to go through a meditation?”
Who could deny such an offer on a glorious Festival evening?
“Let’s begin,” Rowan began.
~
Sit in comfort. Feel the breeze on your neck and soft clover under your legs. Close your eyes. Breathe in life and love until you feel you will burst, then burst. Let your breath out in an explosion of fearless fury. Let your breath take away any crinkled energy inside you, bent and broken from existing as anything but your true, vibrant self.
Again, breathe in vital life, and eternal love. Fill yourself with inner smiles. Feel it stretch your body further and further yet. Let your breath out. Roar again. Roar away all that tarnishes your glowing soul.
Let the stillness enter your aura. You can still hear the wandering bees, and the boisterous conversations around the Festival. Distractions are inevitable. Hold stillness inside your space, and accept the distractions around you as beautiful and existing in their own right. They cease to call your attentions. Breathe deep.
We will start from the deepest vibrations, ancient and primal, and move starward to the ether. Let us align ourselves and shine. And breathe, always breathe.
Concentrate on your tailbone, your roots. This is the base in which you stand upon. This is your connection with the living and nonliving beings that surround you. It radiates blood red, low and sturdy. It lets you know your purpose, and fills your instincts with ancestral knowledge. Look in through this lens. Consider what you find. Perhaps your connections could be stronger, perhaps your intuition could be louder. Make it so by sending intentional thoughts there. Let healing love enter your lowest center of energy, red as strawberries and pomegranates. Feel truth as strong as the song of the deep, old drum. This is your center of trust. Let love flow into the cracks where trust may have been broken in the past. Let it fill you with the power and strength of ancient rocks. Know that in this space, you are safe. Trust in yourself, and in the innate wisdom of your very essence. From there, Connect.
Move your concentration upward to your reproductive organs, your sacral chakra, your center of creation and creativity. Look through this lens. Consider what you find. Hold your love and appreciation in this space until it feels bright and passionate. Feel the flame of inspiration radiate to give life to your projects and endeavors. Sweep away all that may impede your creative prowess, all that may frown upon your wild nature and honest emotions. Let healing love enter this center of energy, orange as pumpkins and tiger lilies. Feel your creative rivers coursing through you from an endless ocean of pure inspiration. Know that the ebb and flow of inspiration is rooted in the same natural cycles as creation and destruction, balanced in moments of change. Trust in yourself, and in the innate wisdom of your very essence. From there, Create.
Let your concentration rise to your navel, your solar plexus. This is your inside sun that gives you power to photosynthesize your life force. Look through this lens. Consider what you find. Perhaps there are shadow factors that block your light from mingling with your life. Shine your cleansing love on this center, yellow as pineapples and summer squash. Sense those shadows that suck away your energy dissipate. Feel your radiance. This lights your sense of justice, and your power to make change. Know your strength. Know the value of moments of solitude and rest in order to replenish your strength. Trust in yourself, and trust in the innate wisdom of your very essence. From there, Charge.
Let your concentration lift to your heart. This is your most powerful center of transmutation. Here, you have the ability to change pain to beauty. Here, you find compassion for yourself and all around you. Breathe deep. Look through this lens. Consider what you find. This is a tender arena. Perhaps you find scars, bruises, or still-open wounds. Search out the source, and pour in your healing love, green as pea pods and clover. Wish all and sundry the very best from your sincere heart, which may be difficult. Let go of anything heavy in your heart by wishing it well, and feel freedom. Know that choices made from your heart heal and revive life around you. Know that the love you put out returns, though perhaps in a different form than you expect. Trust in yourself, and in the innate wisdom of your very essence. From there, Choose.
Let your concentration rise to your throat. From here you breathe in life. Reach into your soul, and sing the songs you find there. Look through this lens. Consider what you find. Perhaps your breath has been stolen. Perhaps you have had to learn to communicate in a different way. Pour in your healing love, blue as the corresponding berries and clearest sky. Know that your words are alive and carry power. Your words dig soil, and plant thought seeds. Think deeply about what you want to grow. Trust in yourself, and in the innate wisdom of your very essence. From there, Convey.
Let your concentration ascend to your eyes that see without seeing, your pineal gland. This holds your vision of what has been, is, and could be. Open the eyes of your intuition. Look through this lens. Consider what you find. Perhaps you question yourself when you know the right actions. Pour in your knowing love, violet as plums and eggplants. Listen. Trust in yourself, and in the innate wisdom of your very essence. From there, Cognize.
Move your concentration near the areas behind your ears. This area is an offshoot from your main trunk, and useful to see your past lives. Here, you may hear stories from your distant past, before you found yourselves in this body. Here, you carry soul memory. Remember this space. Your past informs your present. This past is often difficult to reach and heal because we forget. Let your love flow there.
Release your concentration and let it slip behind your head to your pituitary gland. This is a place your soul connects with your body, and navigates your life. This is a place your body discusses its discoveries with your soul. Look through this lens. Consider what you find. Perhaps the dialogue is continuous. Perhaps communication is blocked. Pause and listen. Listen with your heart open, in perfect love and perfect trust.
Know that each point of connection is as essential as the others. Each has a function and a purpose. Together, they create a fully functional, vibrant being.
Now let us connect with the bigger picture.
From your tailbone, feel the downward space, infinitely further than your physical body. Feel your connection to the center of everything. You are a conscious being, a pivot point from the center to the edge of eternity. Feel your connection to the edge of everything.
From the top of your head, feel the upwa
rd space. Feel the light and love of forever. In that forever, feel the cold, empty space dotted with intense moments of heat and nuclear fusion. The asymmetric rhythm of warm and cold, space and stars, is a cosmic frolic. Feel the inherent cycles. The cycles create balance, and change.
Know you are in the perfect time and perfect space for this moment of your journey. You are learning and growing. Feel your space. Trust your space. Love your space.
~
We took a moment to come back to ourselves, because to move and talk too quickly was jarring. We thanked Rowan with hugs, and agreed we felt the strength of our ever growing connection with ourselves and surroundings. The night stretched its arms above us, and we followed fireflies to the drum circle.
Then we danced, oh we danced, in our bodies of light and wholeness through the night. We swayed the ways our bodies felt they should, to connect and to create. We danced a dance of inner power that shared true and honest love with the other dancers. We whooped and sang with the rustling leaves, as our bodies twirled with the mysterious magic all around and within.
*~*
Mae knocked on the door. She had felt restless all day. A tingling sensation around her shoulders told her something was wonky. She heard an exasperated, “Do I have to do everything around here?” before footstomps came to see who so rudely interrupted.
“Birch isn’t here,” replied Shari’s flat voice that matched her flat eyes. “She’s off playing her pissy ass games.”
The door closed before Mae had a chance to respond. Like it mattered anyway. Who cared what she had to say? Nobody. That’s who. And she better not forget.
The back of her mind said there was something outside of herself that influenced her self-deprecating comments. It said Shari was feeling it too. Mae was too grumpy to listen to the back of her mind.
Because it was acceptable when times were less tense, Mae walked around back to see what was happening in the garden. Kail was busy tearing daffodils out of the soil. He brought his bouquet to Mae, who looked at the well-meaning flower corpses.
Let’s put the roots back in the ground so they can come back next year, she suggested.
Puddle: A Tale for the Curious Page 16
