Woke up this morning with these images

The Tree, A Tree, Roots bark, Branches, foliage and everything else associated. I wondered why I woke up with this on my head, in my minds eye in the middle of my restless night.

The tree is used extensively throughout many cultures as a spiritual symbol.

In Christianity the Oak tree, the Yew tree amongst others were talked about often. Angels appearing under trees (Judges), the tree of Knowledge (Genesis), Tree of life (Revelations) as well as the Kabbalah. Totem poles were carved into trees to symbolize sacred nature.

According to a dissertation by Tim Patridge, "Yew Trees and their interrelationship with man", "Trees are natures gladiator, who despite great imbalance in odds, fights to keep a foot hold in the most extreme conditions. This strength is one of the characteristics that have led to the symbolic use of trees. The tree has three parts in terms of symbolism ---- Roots, Trunk, and Branches."

It made me think of us in life or in our spiritual journey. We start out young and delicate, with such potential to soak up the nutrients of our environment. Our family/guardians/mentors provide us with the environment in which we grow. We all have access to the Sun, that higher source which we all seek out and reach for but never quite get to. That source that warms us from the inside and that we know is responsible somehow for our existence and or growth in many ways than one.

We reach to attain some level be it our full height/potential, or we are stifled by our environment and lack of warmth due to shady surroundings or factors around us.

The winds and seasons hit us in every way, whether we want it or not. Some days it rains and then pours upon us, others the heat is too much and we are not so sure we can make it, other times things get so gloomy and cold we think everything is sure to freeze and we will also. Yet somehow we manage to stay rooted in some belief, something we know or feel. Its our survival instinct, our will to live through out any struggle.

As we grow we become hardened, some get so hardened they petrify, others just form a thicker and rougher exterior in order to face the seasons of life and the effects of.

I believe that we all have to try to reach our full potential, find some spiritual core and root in that beautiful rich soil. As we grow above we grow below, are roots extend into our believes and go in many directions as does the everything else we do. Humans, trees, nature... changes it evolves and adapts or it dies out. So I encourage all to find something to root into, find a purpose and keep reaching for the stars no matter how far away they are and no matter how big you get, there is always room for growth. NO matter who may want to cut you down or use you for various reasons, you have the gift of growth and a chance to do so. Heal your chopped limbs and extensions all of which were given freely or taken from you. Grow something new in its place, never think you can touch the sky no matter how high you reach for it, because its the higher power that helps you grow. Its in you working, you have only but to open yourself up to it feel the power of that higher source that sun, let the photosynthesis occur in you. Let it manifest and make changes and natural reactions, let it feed not only your body but your spirit. No matter what storm is thrown your way you will always be ok if you take root. I can hear Dorothy Norwood talking about roots right now, in the ol School Boulevard medley. Your soil is your ancestors, your environment is your space 'Make it what it is" Reach out those branches and extend those roots.

In the presence of the Divine

I have met so many people this year, so many wonderful souls I have feel kindred too. I know my mother who birthed me. A fiery women whose temper could only be matched by her awesome loving, maternal nature. Her name Means Soul in Latin her middle name means Moody, an awesome mix of fire and water. She fights and yet she soothes, the very source that burned you may be the one that bandages you.

I have met a woman who lives in a very special place, an internal one that harmonically coexist with this exterior world, we call reality. Her voice is Golden, sweet and high like a birds first time song to the coming of Spring. She sang and wrote with many and has a motto of "No fear here" and always laces her Brave new shoes to present her many gifts through art. Her spirit is encouraging and uplifting is her high energy.

I have met a Celtic warrior weather witching mother of two, but of many. She loves her grain alcohol and Dionysus blessed drinks. Her spirit is red headed, blazon strong and enigmatic, her name rhymes with cave and brave. This spirit is but one facet of this beautiful gem of a women who weaves her words into intricate art and pictures and who can break into song any minute and paint the picture just as clearly. Freedom is her way, 'Lets improvise is what she will always say.'

I have met a Mother who has no children in the flesh but many in the spirit. Her spirit is strong as an elephant and just as ancient. She knows nothing of the pretentious but only that of the true person, ones true self. Authenticity in every way, what you see is what you get and believe she KNOWS 'where the bones are buried!' No one can see the truth displayed so brilliantly and not love it in someway, because the brilliance only reflects what the true spirit knows.

Oh another Goddess but this one tames and yet openly embraces birds of Prey. Her energy is strength, freedom, wisdom, foresight, and survival. She tends to take on the role of nurturing mother to those that are so blatantly her peers. Her hands no the fruit of vines and craft them into liquid emotion. Feathers are her tools, her anatomy, her practice, healing is her way. I see her golden haired and comfortable, but she is so much more to the third eye. She is a tribe of her own, a Chieftain, a Shaman, the Hunter who never takes more than is needed, the healer, the seer and the friend. Her name taken from the Old English and Gaelic words that mean Lake, Waterfall, or pool, and probably would have been given to a family who lived by the water. This rings true to her name.

A Goddess whose head shines bare of free of hair but whose wisdom grows in its place. Words are her weapon, her tools, her craft. Only to be matched by her brilliant usage of complicated melodies this world is not accustomed too, but only the Angels know. I could almost hear her in the faintest whisper singing, 'Sister Sister friend of mine..." as it disappears and your goosebumps settle and disappear.

OH and the blessed of Guadalupe herself, blessed and anointed by Rosetta Tharpe patron saint of her house. Animals know peace and shelter at her dwelling as well as those that come in three. She only offers her shoulder and her words which come from a place far too deep to have been read or learned by books, these are ancient words of an old soul who have been here before. She is the Lily of the Valley, and the soothing spring ones go to in order to seek comfort and reflection.