The trees again have centred me. I return home relaxed, filled; Meg.
Why is it that people are moved to exhibit a silent reverence in a cathedral, but amongst trees they forget to listen?
Trees, in fact, are perfect mirrors; living reflective pools for the deepest places in your soul. A tree in it's silent being is able to draw voices forth from heart to teach and encourage you. To strengthen you. To remind you of who you were always meant to be.
If only you listen. If only, as one famous teacher once said, “You have ears to hear...”
They speak of majesty. Of being vulnerable enough to admit that you are small, mortal, finite. They teach that to know this weakness is to know true power. That in understanding your true state, you may be wholly fulfilled in it.
Strength.
Immortality.
Reverence.
Trees will draw forth what is most beautiful from your being, if only you pause and let them.
I do not walk often enough through the forest. When I do, I'm usually in a hurry to exercise my dog before I have to make it to the next appointment; the next job. The list for the day piles up. I bring my mobile phone with me in case anyone needs me while I'm walking. In case I am unable to face solitude that day.
When I come seeking, willing to find and be found, I am never disappointed. I always return home, my thirst quenched, my spirit overflowing.
So why do I forget?
Because the world around us in no way resembles a forest any longer. There is an absence of awe. A lack of reverence. Nothing is sacred. Humanity has become the highest rung of divinity. With science and religions formed by man we have lost our childlike wonder.
We no longer have “ears to hear”, and so the world becomes at once very loud and yet with nothing of value to say.
And we forget. We forget the murmurings of our ancestral places We forget our roots and the strength that comes from the deepest pools of our souls. We forget that silence is healing, and that only in knowing our own selves may we ever be able to help others.
Even now the trees wait. Quiet sentinels of our past, guarding truths that were once commonly accepted; eager to share. Eager to draw truth from you. They will wait until all of humanity is of an age again to listen. They will wait until again we search for awe.
