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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

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IMG_3784IMG_6755Spring is arriving in the Northeast!  And what a sensual delight. I am moved to share all the surprises that are greeting me.

Each year, I am increasingly sensitive to the changes and transformations that surround me, it becomes an endless wonder to experience the changing of winter to spring. I find that I forget the little details that comprises Spring. When they appear, they come as a surprise, much like a gift that lands unexpectedly at the doorstep.

I am so grateful for the endless gifts that seem to actively seek to raise my joy, vibration, and thoughts to delight that I will share them here in gratitude.  Please do share, what Spring surprises did you forget about?  What everyday things have you noted and in seeing it, felt like it was almost like seeing life itself for the first time?

Here is my list, so far:

Longer day light in the evening - giving me more moments to relish the softness of the season.  I forgot that the sun set after 8!! (How could I?)
Warmth on my skin

Tiny leaflets unfolding from the beech trees in graceful wonder
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Wild flowers emerging in abundance on forest floor
Red Efts (newt like animal) crawling across the moist forest floor's leaf mould-wow so bright
Green Green grass brilliantly glowing on a rainy spring morning


Looking up and seeing tiny graceful bright green leaves on the treesIMG_6942
Burbling Spring runoff calling for the return of the wild to our woods

0416124620_01BRIGHT Gold Gold finches -who remembers how bright their sound and feathers become in their Spring joy?
Daffodils and Tulips emerging from recently frozen ground

Spring Wind... so temptingly seductive to our senses

What captures your senses and attention?
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0422121906_01I have started a daily ritual of taking my concerns, and worries, wrapping them into a bundle and placing them at the roots of a grand tree.  I either do this on my walks in the woods, or in my mind's eye. Sometimes my bundle is given to a beech, sometimes a sugar maple or majestic oak as these are the oldest and largest trees around here.  I imagine in other parts of the world, the tree of choice may be a different yet sturdy elder: the amazing tulip tree, willow oaks, or magnolias, or the grand southern cypress trees. What do you lean on in need?  I imagine the answers are as diverse as the creative expressions are of human and tree beings.

To whomever draws me first, I gladly relinquish this bundle of thoughts.  I deliberately place it at the base of the tree. As I deposit it, I feel an immediate lessening of the inner chatter.  I sense that the tree has absorbed it. Sometimes, I feel it bringing the concerns down into its roots for processing and then letting the transformed contents flow up its trunk like the sap that nourishes its limbs, raining blessings in return.  Sometimes, I sense it holding the contents for future compost.  The various sense may depend on the contents of the bundle.  Or perhaps, it depends on my relationship to the bundle. This detail is not clear to me. Or maybe it is all about timing.

The process of surrender, as well as the process of inner transformation occurring in the tree, both feel critical to the resulting sense of resolution that I experience.  Sensing it transform to a new vibration within the tree creates relief within me. Through this internal vision, I feel re-assured that the tree has handled the concerns with far more inspiration and love than I could. I was holding on so tightly and with so much mental focus that there was no room for creative resolution, or grace; it took the love of the tree to perform the alchemy I could not. Love, breath, trust all create that alchemy of resolution.

And imagining it as a chemical process much like transforming carbon dioxide into oxygen also adds to the release for me.  The trees are already daily performing an alchemical gift to the world.  The metaphysical one of transforming our cares into a vibration and breath of life is no different. A miracle yes, and offered with love.

I try it now, taking the concern for a friend's well-being and lay it at my maple friend's roots.  I see in my inner eye that fear of the unknown, absorb deep into the tree's trunk and roots. In moments it is then transformed in some internal cellular process before proceeding up its trunk with its sap and joy.  Once in its limbs, the tree exhales its life-giving force to the world and cosmos.  A new vibration.  What once was fear is transformed into life-giving energy.

The trees don't mind this process of creating more life and offering better solutions.

A smiles returns to me, and I know my heart to be lighter and the answers more conceivable.  WIth some of my fears gone I have more room and energy for creative solutions for creative options in the rest of my day.  The visit with the trees allows for more room to breath in my world.

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Thoughts of writing on this blog have fallen down and in between the roots of this soulful winter in which so much internal metamorphosis took priority.  Starting from the transformative solstice (soulstice) to this fast paced month of February, deep layers of thought, emotion, and consciousness have risen from within our beings to be examined, refined and winnowed.

Until now, I have been unable to articulate this process and its relation to the tree beings. Here, I hope to return to a more regular sharing of the messages from the woods.

Today, on the walk to the sunny spot in the forest, these words came to me: "as the snow softly melts, seeping into deep the layers of the earth below, slowly and almost imperceptibly it begins to reveal the ground on which we stand. As it melts, so too will clarity slowly, inevitably be revealed for all that perplexes, confounds and restricts your joy."

Then I wondered, in that moment, what in me needs to melt before this gentle clarity can bless me, too. Before it can come, and come it will in its perfect time,  what receptivity to warmth, light and hope do I require?

In the forest, snow melts gently into the cover of last year's fallen leaves.  The gentle melting of ice allows for the perfect seasoning of this fabric of botany that lives beneath the surface of leaf mould. Have you ever pushed back the top layer of leaves in a forest and seen the intricate and delicate weave of sinuous roots? Roots quickly extends small shoots into this environment gaining purchase into this realm of moisture and nutrients.  It appears that the growing tendrils savor the nourishment and life present in this layer.

This layer welcomes the frozen water that has fallen this winter in its crystalline wonder.   As in any Emoto experiment, the snow captured the essence of the energy through which it froze. (http://www.masaru-emoto.net/english/water-crystal.html)   As the crystals melt, the water releases the gifts of this essence to the trees.

As I contemplate this process, I begin to see that as I seek clarity in this early Spring light, expecting to get all the information before it is ready to be released/revealed is futile.  The release has its own timing.  The forest floor patiently awaits the full release of this information, whether it be in snow melt, spring rains, or morning dew.  Slowly the truth will be revealed. Then, too, we will feel clear; like a spring morning when hope is restored and the unfathomable seems conceivable.

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Hello dear readers,

I am taking time from writing to try to fix the subscription link on this blog.  As some of you may have discovered, it does not work.  I had hoped to publish my next piece about elder trees in Philadelphia, but have been distracted from this focus by the procedural aspects of blogging.

I hope to get this fixed soon as well as get the next piece up for your viewing.

Feel free to write in the "comments: area because that subscription check box appears to work. (The mysteries of computers still baffle me) I am interested in your journey with the trees as well.

The support of the forests feels ever more dear to me and I hope it will support you as well.

Thank you,

Catherine

 

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While visiting the forest, I stop to listen for songs.  I want to hear the songs from different individual tree communities.  I do this meditative walking during my favorite hour when the light is soft and sun is close to setting.  During this twilight hour my senses are sharper and clearer.  In the bright of day, distractions overwhelm my senses: bird songs, light playing with shadow and squirrels scampering. But at twilight, I can hone in to the sensations around a grouping in the forest.  My senses become keen.

Within the ecosystem of a forest,  there are many various groupings and homes for the energies of the forest beings.  A home may be trees encircling a wet spot, or the trees at the bottom of a slope. Or it may be defined more subtly as simply a natural stopping spot on the path.

As I walk at dusk, I stop now and then,  wait to listen to what is presented. Sometimes, I imagine I am "hearing/feeling" something new.  These new sounds are sometimes quite faint or dim.  As I pause, many questions arise: Will the sounds become brighter, louder, clearer over time? For example, I do notice that the trees that are noticed, attended to, and loved in a forest seem to grow brighter, fuller, stronger.  They Glow.

Further questions: Is the song I hear a function of the observer who is listening?  Does the quality of sound say more about my listening skills or the level of my quotient of receptivity to that vibration? Or does the level of sound reflect an actual vibration strength of the emission? Or is the answer both?

The trail of these questions leads me to the following thought: that as we humans learn to "tune in," to notice that what surrounds us, to pause and embrace it, we learn that what we sense is not Other, but a reflection of ourselves. We learn that we are one piece of this great cosmic planet. With attention and practice, we can grow in our skill to be in rhythm and harmony with this beautiful planet and our world.  It appears to me that our rising skills increase the harmony of planetary sound.  This thought brings great joy- that we can be co-participants and creators of the peace,  and beauty that belongs to this planet earth.

"As you begin to pay attention to the direction of the Conductor within, you will begin to play to the rhythm of the Planetary Symphony, harmonizing with others of your species, and with all of life."  Ken Carey