The Cedar's Whisper
day 54 of 100 days of writing
Recommended listening while reading: Elegy for Peace by Felix Rösch
The dust of a wretched week is settling and the eerie stillness of desolation is affording me deeper listening.
I can hear and feel every string of my soul-chestra in a way I’ve never been able to before. Today’s tuning drew me to the forest; the birthplace of my inner chorus.
Plans abandoned, I wandered to the perfect tree. A tall, sturdy cedar, with the energy of an old, dear friend. I placed my palm to it’s trunk, leaning, giving it some of the lingering weight of my grief.
Immediately it spoke, but not with words. A shared knowing - palm to bark, breath to branches, feet to soil.
Then, a whisper:
Trust your path, pave the way. Trust your path, pave the way.
But what if I waver?
I waver, too. Don’t you see? My branches sway, fall away, and decompose. But they are not all of me. I am my trunk, my roots, my crown, and the ecosystem surrounding.
You have branches too - parts of you that waver, that get taken by the winds of change, soaked by the tears of the sky, ripped by well-meaning passersby. Some of your branches may need to fall away, but look below… they feed the soil. They never really die. They play a regenerative role. They contribute to the heights you can grow.
Heights to which I must speak; do not fear the darkness enveloping your roots. There are nutrients there, lurking in the shadowy depths of the underground. This is how you remain connected.
Bravery is immersed in your roots. From the darkness, you reach the sky. The shelter of your canopy will aid many weary travelers.
Root down, stand tall, trust in the falling away. Trust your path, pave the way.
Palm to trunk, breath to branches… “Aho, Cedar.”
Aho, sweet child.