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...The Quit Smoking Express: Upon the Moss...

Updated on October 21, 2012

Laying in the sunlight near the roots of the Great Oak, the young girl watched as red and gold droplets of light blinked brightly. She wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks and chin. They came without warning, streaming down silent rivers, so many things swimming in them. As the sun glowed in the sky the light burned her sensitive eyes.

She fingered the moss on the stones at the base of the tree. She rubbed her hands over them and as she stroked the soft green, golden pollen sprang up and dusted her fingertips. Ladybugs gingerly crawled up and over the roots as she lay on her belly watching their tiny red and black bodies congregate and disperse. A monarch butterfly hung in the meadow beyond her. It was so beautiful here. She felt as if she should be happier in this peaceful place.

Nothing here should upset her. Why was she so wrought with depression? Rustling leaves above her caused her to raise her eyes. She scanned the sky, with its birds singing and their tiny faces. She watched until she fell asleep upon the moss and amongst the yellow pollen, now heavy in her hair and eyelashes.

As her thoughts quieted into sleep, the Queen stepped in and spoke to her dreaming mind.

“Quiet now, in the dream is where you must stay. There is no leaving, no loving, no talking. Only listen. Remember the trees. Remember until it is so painful you wish you were awake again to go back and fix all those things that brought you here. Recall all of those regretful things that you cannot take back. You knew this day would come after you walked away from me. I had to bring you back here to the Great Oak so that you could start again, once more.

Now listen. The song of the trees has brought great gladness to many people who have heard it. Look at their bark, see the faces in the grooves…watching you, waiting to teach you what they have learned. Hear it in your sleep, as you once more lay upon the moss.“

Morning spilt over into the dream. Harsh yellow sunlight burned her, waking her. A white fire burned in the distance and the Queen was nowhere to be seen. She got up and looked past the tree as shadow figures danced along the horizon. She saw transparent silhouettes of people she recognized, spirits of the past.

The wind blew cold as the fire and shadows danced together. She inspected the faces as they smiled and frowned at her. She was groggy and disoriented, tired even though she had been sleeping. It was in this cottony state that she really first heard them. The voices swirled within the sap of the trees. They asked her to look past the horizon, to go over the edge and find the circle of cedar trees. She had to be able to understand and be aware of what they had to tell her.

They waited until she was seated in the center. The wind roared and died. They began to speak.

“…the validation of your feelings and thoughts never came…everything you went through…everyone you met…none of them were on the same level as you…and they could not be…they were not meant to be…”

She understood this immediately, but more than that – she felt it very honestly. It was the only way she would believe it. It was the only way she could recognize the truth. The truth was The Feeling. It was never The Words. It was its own language within her and it was rare to find another who could speak it. But the trees – they had it. It rang from root to tip. They knew it all.

She sat within the circle until night came. She listened to the explanation of many puzzling and traumatic memories. It was here in this dark circle that she decided to block out the language that plagued her and ultimately led to a destructive addiction that would steal so much of her truth and time.

The trees grew silent as the crescent moon assured her she was capable of the quest of quiet discipline of her own thoughts. The addiction process could cease when the feeling that came at the bottom of that empty space between thought and action was identified and validated by no one else but herself. She could go now into the dark night and hear the truth, louder and clearer than ever before.




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