The teacup, round and comforting
holds deep warmth,
Like a Tibetan bowl, singing in waves,
Sounding out incantations of love

I center this day, with tea in hand, held by fingers around the whole
feeling the edges of the cup and the edges around me.

This tea is a physic, a singing receipt for health. I listen ~
I see my hands holding this cup, a cup reminding me of my own inner fire.
I feel the breath of wind blowing across my face gently, moving wisps of hair, as they pass.
I smell the mowed grass.
I hear the crickets and lawnmowers singing their choruses languidly; I hear a pair of geese announcing preparations for migration.
I welcome the warm red fleece scarf that wraps me in a soft embrace.

I notice that my fingers though, hold tightly to these edges, to this cup.
I am Here, I am here, it is Now.

A moment of pause. A moment of resilience in shifting sands. I feel the spareness of Autumn’s approach. My gaze holds steady on the cup I hold still. I sit listening ~

Listening to my breath, my heart, my inner waves until I can again slide into trust and flow. I listen to the inner and the outer calls, seeking balance.

Today's fog has lifted; the skies have cleared, the light lingers here, at the day’s end, as the day turns to night.

Still, for now, I gaze within, into my cup of warmth, and listen to the circulating songs.

These songs remind me to exhale. To release this breath, to allow for and welcome this small death in a cycle of time, to balance both stillness and motion. To Be. Still. Allow. Motion. In the spareness I experiment ~ Breathe in this Equinox light , breathe out the tension, breathe in the unknown, breathe out the fear. Breathe in Life into this balance point of time, of change, breathe out stagnancy. Breathe in possibilities, breathe out history. Breathe in. And out.

I wonder, at times, like before the dark of moon, or before a seasonal shift like this one, what does it mean to Still be here? What does it mean to shift our attention to the rise and fall of our breath? What does it mean if, at times, that is All we can do, in this strange experience called life? Life shiftings and whorled changings can feel unnerving, disorienting.
Yet, Soon, we do become re-oriented to the new incantations, and to the rising and descending circles and singing rhythms.

The wheel shifts and We are here, and now. And breathing soon becomes more fluid. Once more we feel re-oriented to flow. One moment does flow into the next... and we learn to sing with that.

After this stretched moment of pause, after sitting to listen to these musical spheres, I discover I can answer my questions now. I find I say yes to the unknown path before me, yes to change, yes, to going deep deep into this creative, vulnerable changing ecstasy called life.

 "Behind the subtle breezes that whisper through the treetops, fine and delicate energies pulse into your world from the spirit world, from an energy level not visible to your senses but as tangible as all you touch and hear. You detect these energies, taste them, feel them. They come pulsing out of the early morning air above the trees, gliding swiftly past you, lifting tiny hairs on the surface of your skin....You can not see them, but you sense them and know they are there."

   "If there were words put to these subtle conversations of nature, what message would they convey, these designs and patterns, sliding quietly into your world from a realm beyond? You watch and listen, blending with what comes your way.  Somewhere in these currents, there Is meaning for you." Ken Carey

The most obvious impulse now in the forest is the shifting from End of Summer to Autumn. The patterns of light, design and energy shift the season, at first imperceptibly, and at last quite clearly, with changing colors in the trees, decreasing intensity of sunlight, and increasing of the colder winds blowing from the North.  I embrace the messages within this change and listen, watch and feel to hear what its meaning is for me.

I live in a country that is turning gold and red of an indescribable beauty.  I declare that there exists, this Autumn, all the colors in the light spectrum in the falling leaves. There are reds so deep and bold surely they must contain purple and blue. Yellows so alive they levitate off the ground as seen in the picture heading the quote above. One path that I took through the woods was full of yellows and reds so vibrant that I felt almost unrooted.

For sure, color, which is light, surrounds us and enriches us; color and light, forms of vibration, transmit energy as one walks the forest paths.  This increase in vibration is one of the many gifts the trees offer this glorious Fall. The gift of color is a living celebration of life. The light enfolds us from above in the tree tops, from below on the forest floor, and at times as a shower of glittering gold confetti when the leaves glide and tumble to the earth.

My friend Lynn remembers a Pecan tree telling her that "when the wind blows, the leaves surrender and dance."  Whether that dance is in the tree tops, or in the cascading colors twirling through the air, does anything describe the beauty of Autumn more eloquently? The trees are surrendering to the beautiful inspiration of the energy of the wind and dancing in release.

And so do we dance, as we listen to the wind of our soul, moving each to take the path to our own heart, where we have all the information we need.  Listening to the impulse of the energies within the day, the wind, and the sun, we are being given that information we need to take our very next step, We are blown gently, or not so gently, to walk toward that which brings us joy and laughter; even if the steps are unfamiliar. Trust that the map in your heart is sure.

Following unfamiliar steps requires a willingness to let go of cherished routines, expectations, thought patterns, or concepts. Those are the known paths and patterns. What the now asks is for us to find the new patterns and possibilities.  When we let go of the outdated leaves of the summer we dance freely in the wind of the present.  In releasing the legacies of the past we can celebrate for joy like the trees.  

The trees are dancing in celebration as they flow with the energy behind the wind.  And when we allow for the beauty of the now to move us, so do we.

 

I had the chance to visit the outskirts of Philadelphia at the end of August. I did not anticipate the collective and individual grandeur of the ancient trees there.  The city has history and the trees remember.  I also did not know that there was a well maintained arboretum.  When looking for places to visit, the first thing that JUMPED off the page to my eyes were the words "Morris Arboretum." So I listened to the nudge and made plans for a visit.  After three hours, I sat on a park bench blissfully content.  I was awed by the size and majesty of the trees: pure heaven.

It is hard to convey in words the grandeur of something that one experiences in spirit, sensation and emotion.  Here in the blog, I attempt to do that, and still, I am fearful of failure with this place.  Sitting with the elders in this forest garden gave one a sense of wonder and awe.  Ken Carey in Flat Rock Journal, suggests that a forest is not a forest (I paraphrase) until it has elders.... I imagine that the whole city of trees benefits from the Presence of the Elders in the Morris Arboretum; I envision it as a network system of interweaving, interwebbing support to every street and back yard tree in the city.

Where I live in the Northeast, where storms and other extreme weather affect the size of our trees, a Hop Hornbeam that may be 100 years old will be less than a foot in diameter.  In the Morris Arboretum many of the trees were well over 2 feet in diameter.  Some were several feet wide. To be in their presence was as a benediction.

Regarding the specific trees: The White Ashes - magnificent.  Buckeye, Black tupelo, Tulip tree (which I love to call by its latin name:  Liriodendron Tulipifera) were easily 3 feet in diameter. There are also non-native beauties: Dawn Redwood, also with a beautiful latin name (Metasequoia), Bald Cypress, and an amazing Katsura tree that the traveling family brought back from southeast Asia in the early 1900s.  I will include a picture of this tree, though definitely NON-native:

It is interesting to note that the connection to this tree came as the purity of its beauty and love, not words.

There were trees that spoke.  And I feel the need to pass on the message that one particular tree gave to me although this one was on a country club side street.  It's message came to me as a surprise.  I Am finding that one must never assume Where one will find the most important message, messenger, or friend.  Stay open to Possibility and surprise, that is the gift.

This is how this particular gift came: when in the city I felt the urge/yearning often to walk under the tall elder trees.  I noticed that when I did so, I would feel noticeably and immeasurably more refreshed.  I was not clear as to why until one time at dusk, as I approached one magnificent Ash, I decided to stop just at the edge of its large canopy of leaves.  I looked up into the growing dark and felt admiration.  Soon, I heard words in my head.  I was surprised by them and found myself questioning myself as I don't usually hear so clearly, nor from a casual walk in a city. So I was unsure.

It seems that the magnificent Ash tree was informing me to trust in their (the trees') support.  But not only me, but all of us are invited to trust in their universal support to listen to our hearts, to listen to the messages of our inner guidance. The words were: Trust in our universal support for light workers with transportational messages.

I share this with you, not knowing how to fully understand this message.  I did note that my energy was once again refreshed, rebooted, reset to return to human interaction.

May this message give you the same lightness.