My soul was crying out for some tree time. No offense to the desert Mesquite and Palo Verde but I wanted big trees. Trees you can wrap your arms around and hug. Trees that sprinkle the ground with dried leaves that crinkle when you walk on them.
The nudging had started gently, recalling a memory of walking in the Redwoods, a random conversation about playing in a pile of fall leaves and the arrival of a holiday card with the cover showing a huge tree at the peak of its red fall color.
Each nudge caused a deeper stirring in my soul.
Nature is a power source for me and my battery was running very low.
I preciously guarded the one day in my schedule that was completely open and declared my intention to go up north, hug some trees and play in the water. It didn’t matter if anyone else wanted to go….I was going.
My husband decided to go along so we packed a picnic lunch, climbed in the pickup and headed to Sedona. We had a particular spot in mind.
As soon as we got off the freeway I could feel my body start to relax. Our plan was to go to a little spot that is on the creek but the turn off is unmarked in a curve in the road so not many people go there.
When I stepped out of the truck the first thing I heard was the crinkling of dried leaves under my feet. I took a deep breath and stared up at the towering Sycamore trees.
My battery started to charge.
There were big brown leaves the size of dinner plates strewn all over the ground. I bent to pick one up, turning it over in my hand to fully appreciate the beauty of both sides.
A smile touched my lips as I silently thanked the tree for dropping the leaf. In that moment I felt like it had been put there just for me.
I’m sure I looked like a crazy woman running around hugging trees, throwing leaves in the air and playing in the dirt but it made my soul happy. The birds sang songs as I danced around with wild abandon….or maybe they were laughing….either way we all seemed to be having fun.
The more I played in the woods the more I felt like me.
My husband had explored off over the rise as I explored the dry creek. Water usually flowed through this area but today it was dry and I was able to see rocks and ledges in the creek bed that I had never seen before.
I climbed around until I found a great place to sit on a boulder that would normally have been under water. I whispered gratitude for the gift of seeing that which is often unseen.
Tears came unexpectedly as I thought back on the last few months. In that space I could feel the earth clearing emotional energy from my body that I had been holding ever since my diagnosis.
When the tears stopped I felt peaceful and empowered.
My battery had been recharged.