Spring

•

In light of Trees has returned once more as an outlet for musings. I am thrilled to feel its possibilities. I hope to continue the channel here, of the conversations with the Divine Spirit that moves in all of us, that Inspires us with breath of life. Initially, in the early writings, the conversations stemmed exclusively from my relationship to trees and wind. Now, I hear and relay the whispers from many forms of life.

Today's inspiration came from the writings of Robin Wall Kimmerer and from her love of moss. Many phrases are direct quotes from her book ~ Gathering Moss. I have so much gratitude for her work and perspective; she is a wise teacher. Her work inspired the following, which feels like a message from Moss to me

In "An Affinity for Water" in Gathering Moss, (which reads like a poem,) I felt parallels in my life, and with my own affinity to water~

Dendroalsia:
This mossy sponge, this "companion of trees" drips a constant flow of water down the bark of Oaks to their roots, relinquishing water when an overflow exists. The slow release feeds the earth, adding to the communal well for nourishment of all life
This nourishing flow of manna, "fills the soil's reservoir for the Summer ahead. Yet, by August, the mossy carpets begin to dry and shrivel, becoming wiry skeletons." They appear lifeless, they are actually awaiting their renewal and their time of rebirth.

Kimmerer writes that the "atmosphere is possessive of its water," and moss in turn exerts its own pull. Like a jealous lover, it holds on as tightly as possible to the water ~ in curves, curls and folds and shapes of its surface. With its form, the moss invites water to linger, reside, make a home at its core.

It made me so happy to realize, as I read this, that something else beside me is also tied to the comings and going of water. I love the blessings of a good rain, which nourishes my soul with laughter, companionship, conversation, hope, aliveness. In the atmosphere of it's embrace, I feel new life, I feel participation and joy in the web of life. And like moss, when the moisture returns to the atmosphere, it's other home, I can feel dull, shriveled and, yes, lifeless. I too, like a jealous lover, seek to have the nourishment of water stay, mist my life, my days, my dreams, my wrinkled skin with its nourishment longer. I want to hold onto these cherished moments, asking the life of water to linger, to stay. Unlike moss, I do not relinquish these moments gracefully. I do not have the knowing for this patience, yet.

This kind of impatience makes it difficult to accept the transitions of life around the medicine wheel of time with ease. Unlike moss, I can forget that the apparent lifelessness, is indeed appearances only, that the shifting of its presence is a natural cycle akin to breathing in and out, to expansion and contraction, to give and take. I practice this surrender these days as life shifts and changes; I practice surrendering to the greater wisdom of Spirit. I practice allowing, awaiting divine timing of the manna of rain to return once more.

To help the practice, I make a list of attributes of moss to emulate:
Acceptance, patience, surrender
Allowing for the vagaries of Change
Surrendering to natural cycles,
Surrendering to the ways of water,
Gratitude for the cycles of the web
Acceptance that Dessication is part of the path

Acceptance... to a deeper knowing. Moss reminds me that there exists a deeper mystery, unseen in the cycles of contraction and expansion. It is my mind that values one over the other. It is my fear that I will lose should the blessed nourishment of rain cease; It is my fear that there is not enough Here, Now. It is my fear that I will cease to exist without it's presence. It is my fear of death, that says, "no, this can't be right," that wants my timing. The amount of energy my mind uses to convince me that something must be wrong when the waters recede is exhausting!!

What if Nothing is wrong? Mooji says that believing something is wrong, is one of the tricks that the mind plays to keep us tied to it. What if I began to see the dry period as a wonderful, refreshing quiet time allowing for replenishment of a different kind? What if the quiet allows for insight into the deeper mysteries of the Whole, and the wonder at that whole? And what if that wonder frees me?
What if this practiced surrender actually frees me to experience my life more fully? Freedom earned through total Surrender. What if being like moss is a gift of freedom?

When the rains do come, one drop at a time, it is, indeed, enough to start the transformation. Even after 40 years of dehydration, One drop will transform the apparent lifelessness of moss into turgidity. Once again they will swell, unfurl, grow green and resplendent. Once hydrated they can participate in transforming light and air into sugar. Their activity restored they can participate in creating sugar for their survival, and renewal. They participate again in the giving back to the earth.
To moss, desiccation is simply a pause in activity, not a death
Desiccation is a breath, a rest
Dry periods and the change it brings are part of the whole.

I will probably always revel in the free flowing gifts of water. It is my nature to love the freedom of movement and flow, dancing ever with the moving elements.
Yet life brings needed pauses
If I, like the moss can learn to allow for these pauses without resistance what freedom it would also bring for exploration.
If I can accept changes in my environment, accept the divine timing, knowing I will once more swell to my part in the web of life with the coming rains, I will better enjoy the renewal of quiet, and the wonders of transformation that it brings.
This path would lay the groundwork for my own cycle of renewal, refreshment and joy.

I seek the wisdom of moss to accept, unfurl and relinquish all with grace. Grace in the humility of a plan much greater than mine; In a plan that is mysterious, and generous; In a plan that incorporates the blessing of the whole and allows for all dreams to come to fruition in their beautiful design

Dendroalsia: This mossy sponge, this "companion of trees", drips a constant flow of water down the bark of the oak to the tree root

•

I awaken early these last few days to pray with the Thrush as they sing in our woods.  Their gentle song accompanies my paintbrush with filigree and delight. I feel I am in the woods with them honoring the Spirit of the Forest.

IMG_6837

The other night, just past dusk (one of my favorite times of the day), I was walking through the forest.  The wind was noticeably absent, creating a deep quiet. The light was present enough to see the contrasts.  Color was almost, but not quite gone. Each trunk, outlined, tall and clear was so Very Visible to me as both individuals beings and an individual expression of something larger.  A soft muted glow existed in the surrounding space from the translucent light of the new leaves. I felt as though I was seeing the Forest of tree beings for the first time - with both their individual and interconnectedness selves present. The muting grey and shading of the growing dark contributed to this sense.  As I paused to admire this interconnectedness, I felt a sound.  It pulled on my cellular being.  The sound moved through the body up and skyward.

I felt it first in my heart chakra and then the third eye and crown.  It created movement within. This "sound" had a feel to it.  Was it an expression of that moment in time, and from those trees? Was I singing too on that level? I wondered how we might harmonize with this "song".  How might my song sing in tune to their song?

 

•

I find there to be beautiful synchrony that I should be writing and creating a site in honor of trees at a time in their cycle when they themselves are blooming and emerging to increased visible beauty and productivity.  They have transitioned as I prepare this page from dormancy to swelling buds, flowers and new leafy beauty.

The wind caresses their leaves with gentleness now, as I write.  It is a gentleness that we humans forget to give to our selves and others.

That same breeze now lifts my face so soft.  The new leaves of the Beech tremulously and expressively as Aspen does.  As if the wind tickles the tree in play.

IMG_6942

The Pine trees wave above them like Palm trees would in warmer climates, gliding across the  skyline with ease in the rustling wind.

At the time of this writing, most trees have begun to bud in the Northern climate.  Even the oak and ash in many spots have tentatively swollen their buds.  The locust and larch are still dormant.  This welcome change in season comes after a very cold and long winter in the Northeast in which we had The Abundance of snow.  During the winter days the mere miracle of a warm day seemed untenable much less imaginable.  The Maple Sap, as dependable as Spring,  ran a month later than usual.

Nevertheless, the trees have caught up, eagerly opening in this glorious sun.  The migrating birds seemed to all return in preparation of the magic of the massive leaf blooming. Their presence adds to the magic and joy of the forest.

There is a sympatico between the trees and the birds, the wind and the sky. And to live with in this balance is heaven.

•

The trees give the appearance of  dormancy this March/April as winter fluctuates from Spring to Winter and back again. But indeed they are actually feeding from their roots as we may well be. Drinking in deep from the waters of mother earth to nourish their souls, their souls' purpose and souls' loves.

These pursuits are likely one and the same.

Today I heard this Message from two pines on my walk:

Listen to the sound of our roots:
How you spend your time and What you draw from your roots, you dance into the sky.  Draw from the source that brings eternal hope and joy.  Drink from the waters that feed and nourish your dance of hope, of love. Listen to the sounds of Your roots.   Nourish your love, and your joy. Amen.

And after a pause I heard more: Drink from your own wellspring.

We would be best nourished from waters of our own wellspring to feed our soul’s purpose and soul's loves, that being one and the same thing.

and soul's loves, which is one and the same.