Ode To A Fig Tree

Weeping fig's branches hang languidly

over the roof of my verandah

I stand, quieted by her beauty, and,

in the silence, I hear –

the sound of chewing...

Within this hidden sanctity
I search for the source, and find –
a caterpillar
devouring a leaf

My heart swells!
I am one with the caterpillar...
I am one with the tree...

In this moment of glorious communion
I close my eyes
and know...

God is me
God is the caterpillar
God is the tree

And God is the sound of chewing,
and the glorious silence...

All at once.

(Cindy Lee - edited 20 Aug 2021)   

The Healing Power of Nature

My wonderful doctor urged me to go for a walk every day, with a one hour walk in nature at least once a week.  She assured me this would help with the depression, and the chronic fatigue.  However, with chronic fatigue, just the thought of a one hour walk is exhausting, let alone actually partaking.  I put it off for a long time, because I just couldn't get out of bed early enough, and, later in the day, it was just too hot.  Then, one day, I woke up at about 6.30am, got up and decided to go for a walk on the beach.  It was blowy and the sand had been eroded by high tides and wild weather, and my walk was very uncomfortable –and exhausting!  I felt worse than ever, but decided that I'd try a different direction the next day. So, instead of turning left to go down to the beach, I turned right, and walked along the track that goes through the National Park.  The track actually begins at the back of my house, but my backyard is completely overgrown with fishbone fern as tall as a person, so (for the moment) I have to walk around the block.

My first walk was quite laboured, and I kept telling myself – just to the next power pole, then the next, until I finally came to the bridge (about a half hour walk).  I sat and watched the tea-tree stained water babbling on its way through the trees, and out of sight towards the lake. On the other side of the bridge the water is still, and I watched spiders hanging out over the water, and dragonflies and damselflies – their jewel-coloured bodies flitting onto the water and away with their prey.  I sat for ages, and allowed the healing powers of the Sacred Mother Earth to wash through me.  I gave thanks for Her beauty.

The next morning, I woke at 5.30, and could barely contain myself –I was so excited about my discovery.  That I'd lived in a house that has overlooked this magical track for fourteen years, yet had only walked along it once or twice (and that was before it was closed to traffic) amazed me.  I used to take my dogs to the beach every day, and had ignored my own backyard.

We had a lot of heavy rain around this time.  I woke up one morning after a particularly heavy storm, and it was still raining.  I went anyway, because I really was starting to feel a lot better.   I got a little way along the track, and it was covered in water, so I thought about turning back, but decided to paddle my way along the highest point down the centre of the track.  There were yabbies swimming backwards away from me as I made my way along!  I had to pick a few up and throw them back into the creek.  Cobwebs looked like jewelled castles.  Native grasses were covered in diamonds when I saw them against the rising sun. My heart soared to the heavens, and I thanked God for this magnificence.  My eyesight had been playing up, but I could see a tiny brown frog, the size of my fingernail, on the path in front of me.  I stopped and watched it hop into a puddle and swim away.  Everything was washed clean.  I was in Bliss!  When I got home, I realised I'd been gone for over two hours!!!

One morning, I had a pain in my lower back, and as I got along the track a bit, I said, 'Sacred Mother, please pull this pain out of my lower back, and I will heal anything you want me to heal for you in return.'  In an instant, the pain was gone - in fact, it was gone by the time I finished asking!  Then, to keep my end of the bargain, I asked if there was anything She wanted me to heal.  She told me – not yet.  I had another lovely walk, and met some cheeky finches who came out of hiding to look at me and have a chat.  I threw a couple of yabbies back into the creek, I sat on the bridge and pondered all of the beauty surrounding me...

On the way back, I felt a sad feeling, and Mother Earth asked me to now do the healing. There were souls of some animals who had been murdered years ago, and I called on the Holy Spirit to help them go into the Light.  There were several kangaroos, and a few emus as well, which we certainly don't have here now.  I finished assisting them, and continued on my walk, when I felt a tickling sensation on my right arm.  I thought I must've walked through a cobweb, so I brushed it off.  It kept tickling, then moved to the left arm.  I thought I must have picked up a spider, so I stood still and was holding my arms out in front of me, looking for the spider, when I saw all of these little lights (about the size of marbles) dancing around my arms.  I've never seen anything like it - I'd never seen auras or spirits or anything before.  They danced around my arms and hands, occasionally brushing against me.  It was so beautiful.  I asked what they wanted –and was told they were celebrating me.  What an affirmation for the work I'd been doing for the planet, and the animals and insects I'd met!  They came with me almost to the gate, but when I walked out of the National Park, they left me.

I had several incredible experiences in the park, and was beginning to heal.  Then a man I'd been obsessed with in my youth came to visit in April and the next day I couldn't get out of bed.  Or the next.  I felt completely devastated and out of balance, and I've hardly been able to get out of the house, let alone go for a long walk through the National Park, ever since.  His visit stirred up so much stuff that needed to be healed.  Until I could see the old patterns of love-addiction, and heal my own and my parents' issues, I was being weighed down by them.  Literally – as I just couldn't get up!  If these issues don't get cleared, they create havoc in the body.

I recently started getting out again, and tried to go for a walk in the National Park the other week, but it was early in the morning and my lips almost froze off my face!  I'll get back down there a little later in the day during winter, because I'm always so awe-struck by every little thing that I can't just go for a walk –I need to linger, and it's hard to do that when you're freezing.  I'm always stopping to look at spiders spinning their webs, dew drops sparkling on the tips of the native grasses, creating a glistening carpet along the side of the track, tiny birds twittering away in a kind of hollow that looks like an enchanted forest...  I lose track of time.

I'd love to clear a track from my house down to the back track so I don't have to walk through the neighbourhood just to get there.  I've noticed that, as I lose sight of human habitat, I have a lot more energy and joy, but as I'm coming back, I feel a bit weighed down, and can barely wait to get back to my own little house, which almost disappears amongst the trees.  I'm going to see if the Bush Turkeys can tackle the enormous fishbone ferns at the back of the house.  I recently employed them to clear a lot of weeds next to my front verandah.  I sprinkled rolled oats through the weeds, and now it's beautiful.  They're incredibly strong birds, so I'll give it a try in the backyard as well.  I pay them in oats (and cooked brown rice, when they're really being spoiled) and they pay me by clearing the weeds, and making me laugh.  They're so helpful and funny that I don't mind a few poops on the verandah, or bulbs being dug up!  They give me so much joy – proving, once again, the healing power of connecting with Nature.

Love and Light
  xxx