Spirit of the Forest

Spirit of the Forest There is a deep relaxation to the rhythm of the breath, a way of balancing the inner and the outer experience. Perhaps you are remembering that the breath is a perfect bridge between the worlds of experience. The conscious and the unconscious within each of us. As you breathe deeply you are aware of the subtle changes occurring in your body. Aware of the relaxation of all your muscles aware of a calm and peaceful feeling drifting over you. The gentle sound of your breath, what is it like. The pattern that has been with you always in this life and in many before. In the great circle of the world you are aware of a resonance to your breath. You are aware of a universal rhythm. This is the rhythm of the ocean creating the perfect balance of land and sea. The ancient ocean that mothered all life. Beneath your feet you are aware of the sands. Once they were stones tumbling down from the surrounding land. Once they were shaped into lovely multicolored pebbles each one a perfected work of time and art. Your steps follow and ancient path in the moonlight. This path is laid out shimmering in the sand winding between the stones, traveling gently up the mountains side. You are one with the path. You are one with the breath of the ocean, wild and yearning around you. Above, the stars and the moon dance between the clouds. Beneath you the path is secure and beckoning. Higher and higher you climb. You pass between stones that stand as sentinels in the moonlight. Around you now the night breaths out the mists. A soft blanket of mystery swirling around your ankles, climbing with you, breath by breath. Finally, you arrive at the crest of the ridge. Here the wind sings its welcome with an insistence. Stepping forward you see the circle of stones. They seem to almost dance in the moonlight as the clouds shift the pearlescent light. These stones have been shaped by time. Shaped by weather and wind and by some long ago and forgotten hand. Each stone is intricately carved with symbols. Symbols that you can almost understand, that you almost recognize. You run your hand across the cool surface of the symbols as though your touch can read their meaning like Braille. Another level of understanding opens within you, another level of awareness that has no name. Like an almost remembered dream receding with the light of dawn. Stone by stone you continue. At times you pause and lean your head against a stone willing the meaning to transfer directly to your consciousness. At the Northern most stone you pause. Something is different here, something intangible. A deepening occurs in your awareness. You feel as if you are being invited to drop roots deep down into the very soil around you. The stone before you gleams in the moonlight. The stone before you is reflecting the stars above you. As you look deeper you begin to see other forms. You imagine they must be the reflections of the other stones but they seem too tall, too dark. Around you the air begins to still and warm. Around you a heady scent of life and growth, fertility and decay. Each reflection begins to come into focus. Dark and grooved the growing trunks emerge. An ancient forest long lost to the coastal change. You look deep with in its verdant green. Deeper than you have ever seen before. You see the great stag as he leaps and bounds across the meadows. You see the hare loping lazily beneath the trees. You see the little frog curled tight and safe beneath a lily leaf. You see the hawk diving, diving from the shimmering sky. In wonder you reach out to the stone and see a hand reach out to yours. A great strong hand wound round with spiral blue tattoos. Your eyes look deep then and are met with wild eyes like shaded forest pools. Strong waters filled with life. These eyes within a bearded face, brown weathered yet handsome. A smile as open and inviting as a child. It is these eyes that compel you to look deeper still and in a moment a shift occurs. Your body growing and expanding filled with strength and perfect health. You shoulders warmly covered by a mantle of green. Your arms wound round with ancient symbols styled in blue your view encompassing all the land around you. This is your home. You know the leaping stag he is your brother. You know the hare, she carries your tidings, you cherish the frog asleep in his innocence, and you fly with the hawk, the eyes of the future. You know each stone that stands before you. You know each story carved along their sides. Your chisel made each cut, created every symbol. Each step you take you read again the stories of the forest. Aloud each word becomes a song of praise and deep within you stirs the memories. Memories of every symbol song. Here the stag out distances the lone hunter that would take it for a prize, here the hare bears stories of the coming of a healer, here the frog waits to sing of spring returning to a land long waiting in the snow, and here the faithful hawk brings magic home. Every story now unfolding never to be forgotten. All around that ancient circle until the circle of the night has reached a close. Before the Northern stone a gate is open. One last breath of forest still is stirring. A leaf so green and growing falls upon your breast, your heart. Awakening: the world around you shines with light. The fog has lifted; the sky is filled with azure light. Each stone reflects the light of dawn; each symbol stands in high relief within this light. The dream is not fading. Each symbol offers up its meaning and its song. You have remembered