The Forest Holds You Tonight

There is peace in the dark. There is strength in the unknown. You are here. Feet on the ground. The forest will hold you tonight.

Envision the animals you want to walk with you. Is there an owl? Or a bear? A fierce and friendly fox? Call whichever animals come to your mind.

Tell them: Stay if you will and go if you must.

And remember that this is a thing medicine people say.

As you repeat your ancestors words, honor those who have walked these dark paths before you and honor your power to choose your own way.

The journey you're on is your own. Trust your process. There will always be things you don't understand. There will always be things you get totally wrong. And this is the way of things. All you have to do is show up, meet yourself where you are, and keeping going.

Move along the path, one step at a time, moonlight your gentle companion.

Inhale the aroma of fresh dirt, new life, cedar, pine.

Exhale as you drop down, put you hands flat against the ground and feel how you are on the surface of something layered and deep.

Far below you, animals burrow, water flows, roots push past stones and mycelium weave a network connecting you to every tree. Cold stones turn to hot magma at the heart of the planet, and your own heart beats, pulling blood through you like underground streams.

Place your hand over your heart, feeling it beat, remembering your own depths. You, too, are of the Earth. You, too, contain multitudes.

There is nothing more to do than to be here now.

Let all worry and expectation fall away from you like spores of a dandelion after a child makes a wish and, with a gust of breath, sets them free.

You are bare and beautiful in the moonlight, hugged by the forest night, always enough, just as you are. Like the animals you called, you are also free to stay if you will and to go if you must.

Remember, there is peace in the dark. There is strength in the unknown. And you are all you need to be.

You can stop here if you wish.

Imagine a clearing of trees cradling you, stars sparkling overhead, a warm fire crackling as the smoke takes the shapes of your deepest desires.

Watch the shapes form in the absence of judgement and watch them go, dissipating back into the dark, having no hold on you, bringing you only satisfaction, and insight, until they're gone.

Life will hold us until we let it go. Hold onto this thought until you're ready to release it and remember: You can stop here too.

You can give the forest your thanks and return to a home where there is safety and peace in what you know. You can return with deeper gratitude, understanding, and acceptance than when you departed. You can expand the boundaries of your soul to fill your space the way sunlight sometimes spills into a valley in the hours after dawn.

Or, you can keep going--deeper into the dark, the forest still holding you, trusting you with its mysteries, reminding you of the sacredness of your own truths, of your own story.

You can keep going until the forest ceases to be a forest anymore, moving back like a veil at the base of snow-capped mountains, rolling deserts, sparkling cities, startling chasms, tight tunnels and the open sea.

Sometimes, more animals will come. Sometimes, there are hummingbirds.

The hummingbirds surround you, their beating wings joining into single voice. Listen closely, and you will hear the answers to your biggest questions. And, then, these truths:

There is peace in the dark. There is strength in the unknown.

Life will hold us until we let it go.

We are here, and that's all we need to be.