The feeling I had developed for the trees was beyond words. I had the certainty that I was able to absorb their moods, know their age, their insights and what they sensed. I could communicate with a tree directly through a sensation that came out from the inside of my body. And I also knew that once communication is engaged, tree pour themselves out in affection. ~ Taisha Abelar, The Sorcerers’ Crossing
I’m a tree hugger. I don’t live in California and I don’t wear Birkenstocks with socks but I love a good tree hug. They have so much to tell us if we pay attention and align with their energy, their intent. Last Sunday I was hiking through an old growth forest in Northern Arizona and when approaching a gigantic old ponderosa pine I just had to embrace it.
I couldn’t wrap my arms around even half of her, she was so big. I pressed my ear against her rugged bark and listened. And then she spoke. She told me that we have to become “conduits” like them so we can bridge the energy of the earth as it moves up through our bodies and into the warmth and light of the sun. This allows us to merge with the abysmal void of infinity. Emptiness is form, form is emptiness.
The state of no pity is surprising. One attempts to reach it step by step, through years of continuous pressure, but it happens suddenly, like an instantaneous vibration that breaks our mold and allows us to look at the world with a serene smile. For the first time in many years, we feel free of the terrible weight of being ourselves, and we see the reality that surrounds us. Once there, we are not alone. An incredible push awaits us, help which comes from the core of the Eagle and transports us in a microsecond to universes of sobriety and sanity. When we don’t have any pity for ourselves, we can face the impact of our personal extinction with elegance. Death is the force that gives the warrior value and moderation. ~ Carlos Castaneda,Encounters with the Nagual
Carlos goes on to say that when we can truly see the reality that surrounds us, once we have completely gotten out of our own way, that we can make interpretations as far as our attention will allow and that every single action counts because each action releases avalanches into the infinite. Witnessing this universal bond, the warrior is prey to contradictory feelings. On the one hand, indescribable joy and a supreme and impersonal reverence toward all that exists. On the other hand, a sense of the inevitable and a deep sadness that has nothing to do with self-pity; a sadness that comes from the breast of infinity, a blast of solitude which will never leave her again.