Thought for the day - September 30, 2000

Subject: RE: Thought for the day - September 30, 2000
From: Micca
Date: 30 Sep 00 - 07:58 PM

Lovely kat, possibly why all the great druidic oaths are sworn "by Oak and Ash and Thorn" and their alphabet,had a tree for each letter, called the Beth-Luis-Nion (from the first 3 letters and trees ) for more info see Robert Graves "The White Goddess"

Subject: RE: Thought for the day - September 30, 2000
From: catspaw49
Date: 30 Sep 00 - 06:32 PM

(:<))

Spaw

Subject: RE: Thought for the day - September 30, 2000
From: katlaughing
Date: 30 Sep 00 - 06:21 PM

Yeah, Carol, most days I feel that about him, too. Thanks:-)

Mmario, that sounds beautiful...

Subject: RE: Thought for the day - September 30, 2000
From: CarolC
Date: 30 Sep 00 - 03:52 AM

kat/katlaughing,

Your Roger sounds like a good find as well.

Carol

Subject: RE: Thought for the day - September 30, 2000
From: MMario
Date: 30 Sep 00 - 12:28 AM

one of the enduring memories I have of a cross country trip back in '63 is the trees; from the petrified trees in one park, to the sequoias and redwoods, the live oaks in the south, hung with old man's beard, and the wind twisted bristlecone pines.

Subject: RE: Thought for the day - September 30, 2000
From: Mbo
Date: 30 Sep 00 - 12:25 AM

"Tree, tree, tree...we need you, tree tree tree..." --Fred Rogers

Subject: Thought for the day - September 30, 2000
From: katlaughing
Date: 30 Sep 00 - 12:23 AM

Trees have always been important to me. I've always taken great comfort in their presence. One in particular unexpectedly *called* to me....

I had gone to Scottsbluff, Nebraksa, with Rog. We always go off the beaten path to reach whatever television transmitter he works on. This time was no exception. After some fairly rough four-wheeling, we finally reached the top of a bluff, as high or higher than the one which lends its name to the town. It was a very harsh environment, wind-scrubbed runnels in dusty alkali-scarred dirt running down the sides, like wrinkles in an ancient one's face.

There were some very brave, hardy-souled evergreens hugging the side of the hill where I'd hiked down a little way to take photos of the surrounding vistas. One of them just *called* to me. I had to go to it; there was such a strong compulsion, stronger and more specific than I'd ever felt before with any part of Nature. That it embodied a Native American ancestor of mine, I was sure; it was the only explanation I could get as to why it effected me so profoundly and why it communicated with me so specifically in unspoken word pictures. Time ceased to exist, with the sharing of thought and love instantaneous.

It had a hollow, which fit my back just perfectly, so I slid down, whispering "thank you, oh, thank you", in between tears and laughter of pure joy and thankFULLness at the gift I was experiencing. I felt its psychic arms hold me close in comfort, safety, and gentleness, almost a rocking motion in time with the breeze which was a small relative of the obvious forces which had shaped the bent and gaunt form of my relation.

Rog, bless his heart, was so gentle that day. He knows how much it means to me to get out to these lonely spots with him. It provides solace for my soul. He very quietly made his way down the slope, asking me if I was okay. I welled up with emotions which spilled over, the old tear ducts going full force. I took in great gulps of air, trying to explain between sobs. He came over then and held me close, while I calmed down and told him: I really could just sit there forever. I literally felt no need to ever get up and leave. It felt so much as though I'd always belonged right there on that spot.

After a few more minutes, I gave it a hug goodbye and a zillion more thanks yous, both spoken and from the silence of my heart and soul. It was a very difficult leave-taking. It's even now hard to describe; the one and only time in my entire life I've felt that absolute contentment to let go and just be, with no compunction to move on or be separate from the tree and the Great Spirit, as we so often are in our daily lives. I could have stayed there and died with no regrets or concerns. Looking back on it, I think it must've been a small glimpse of nirvana.

I'd never had any kind of feeling about flat, old Nebraska except for how gawd-awful long it takes to drive across its somewhat boring expanse, so the feeling of love, awe, and kinship with the tree, specific to that landscape was totally out of the blue for this lifetime at least.

Namasté

kat