Choir of Trees by Araya
The doorway was created by openness and allowance from a deep part of myself to work with Spirit and remember. Of course, some wonderful instruction and guidance initiated and pushed the process along. I was part of a circle of 12, participating in a workshop about “Shamanism for Every Day Life” taught by Amy Cortese, a faculty member for the Foundation for Shamanic Studies. It was, in my mind, a continuation of a basic course on Shamanism that she had held about 5 months earlier that I had also taken. That workshop was my first real exposure to Shamanism, but as with most who are led to attend such events, it felt like the opening of a part of myself that had been forgotten. Journeying was natural and blissful, as was the more direct connection with my Spirit helpers.
The workshop led us through several processes to help clarify intent and initiate a healing that would be created by the culmination of the weekend. Each journey that we experienced was profound and insightful, yet the one on the evening of the second day changed everything. As the drumming commenced and we embarked on the journey, we set the intention of returning to early childhood, to the time before any wounding to ourselves (whether emotional, physical, mental or spiritual), and discover there what each of us came into the world knowing; what came naturally to each of us.
As I usually receive very vivid, visual information, I felt myself drawn way back and saw myelf as an infant, lying on my stomach on a soft blanket amidst lush, green grass. I realized instantly that as an infant, I came into the world with the ability to sense and see energy, as well as the ability to communicate with everything around me. There I was only a couple of months old, talking to the grass, the trees, the flowers, the water, the wind… I could hear them singing and without the need of vocal chords, was singing along with them. As I acquired language and inherited humanity’s belief systems, this gift was lost to me. It was not acceptable to talk to the water or the flowers, especially once I figured out how to vocalize. They did not embody a soul or a spirit. They were simply objects in nature that were occasionally pretty to look at, but otherwise not a large part of the human experience. Most importantly, we wouldn’t want anyone to think us “strange”. And so, it has taken over thirty-five years, a series of events leading me to seek spiritual paths uncommon to most of the west, and one special teacher’s intention of a journey to bring this gift back.
Coming out of the journey, I didn’t really have an inkling of how much of this gift would return to me other than in memory. Knowing that the spirits usually work in their own divine timing, I resolved to write it in my journal, keep it in my memory, and then allow whatever experiences might come of this knowledge to manifest in their due time. Unexpectedly, I was rewarded within 24 hours.
At the conclusion of the workshop, as is fairly typical after intense spiritual opening and cleansing work, I wanted to put everything on the shelf for a spell. I made the choice, as it was a gorgeous late winter afternoon, to go for a cross-country ski. I chose a trail several miles south of town that has a nice groomed ski and walking path and allows dogs. I slowly made my way up the trail, passing a handful of elk and deer up on the hillside as I went. My mind was a blank and my focus was solely on being present in the moment, enjoying the scenery opening up before me, and breathing in the wonderful, clean mountain air. When all at once, I sensed a song on the air, and as I looked around I realized that the trees on the hillsides were singing to me. I looked straight at a stand of three aspen not 15 feet in front of me, and felt each one smile and greet me warmly as an old friend would. I was overwhelmed with this new perception, and as if to challenge it, skied on addressing every willow bush and tree along the path. They all answered back. It was like being at a reunion of friends and family you haven’t seen for ages. Not sure what to really think, I let go of the thinking mind and just stayed with the experience. I could hear the song of the trees on the wind. I sensed the wind caressing my cheeks in greeting and adding it’s harmony to the song. I felt the mists shrouding the ridge not too far distant warning to turn around to miss the storm rolling in. I sensed the snow rejoicing in my delight as I slid along her back… If this was even a hint of what my childhood was like, no wonder I was such a “happy” child.
I had had joyful moments in nature before and intuitive hits about storms coming, but this was totally original. Almost like Dorothy in Oz, I felt like the trees were laughing, only not at me, but with me. It is actually rather humorous that I could have spent so much time in nature throughout my adult life, and yet only now opened up to what I would consider it’s fourth dimension. How do you share this? And how do you return to the understanding of those around you, or try to explain this grand occurrence, except through the telling and maintenance of utter gratitude: gratitude to my spirit guides for this path that has been laid before me, gratitude to the spirits of nature for communing with me, and gratitude for a shamanic practitioner that led us on a journey to early childhood to remember that which we came into the world naturally knowing.