Life

The B Tree and The Shooting Star

Have I told you about the B tree? The time my intuition asked me to take a seat among a forest full of trees, and there, etched into the tree I’d sat beside was the letter ‘B’?

B for Brooke. In a forest full of trees, have I told you that story?

Have I told you the story of how, about three weeks later, I found myself back in the forest? I’d forgotten all about the B tree. Well, at least I’d forgotten where exactly it was. In that forest full of trees. And yet, there I found myself, once again, sitting beside that very tree. The B tree. Quite a magical accident, wouldn’t you say?

A magical accident that happened twice.

A similar moment of magic happened tonight, and although I shouldn’t be surprised by the wonder the universe continues to gift me, I am. I really truly am. Because how can such magic be, and also be so constantly missed by too many of us, far too often? Because of all the busy things. Because of all the noise.

Tonight there was no noise as I walked. It was twilight. The stars were out and the sky was darkening, but not black. It had been a bit of a sad day for me, as you might imagine— an emotion processing day, and so it seemed a natural thing to get out with my trees and walk it away.

Twice I felt the urge to sit on the patch of grass beside me, and twice I rejected the idea as ridiculous given the darkness arriving on my side of the Earth. That’s when I remembered the B tree.

It had been a very subtle urge that had made me go and sit beside the B tree, a very subtle urge just like this one. Was this the universe calling again? Was this a gentle nudge from the Soft Girl, asking me to melt into the stars for a little while?

I didn’t need to wait for an answer. I just sat. And thank goodness I did: I’d have missed it had I kept walking.

The shooting star.

I’d have missed it racing towards the Earth in a burst so bright it could have been an asteroid or a falling planet. I couldn’t quite believe it (and what that looked like was me blubbering and smiling, looking around wondering if there was anyone there to see it.)

I don’t know how that kind of magic happens, but I seem to be on a journey that’ll take me a little closer to finding out. And if I never do find out where that kind of magic comes from… at least I kept my eyes open long enough to see it.

My goodness. It’s times like these where I think: what a life I will have lived by the end.

silhouette photo of trees during night time
Photo by Miriam Espacio on Pexels.com

 

 

 

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Life

Conversations With A Soul

My soul spoke to me today.

It told me a story about the heartaches I choose to hide from.

Hiding is much easier than seeking, wouldn’t you say, on account of all the wrong turns made on the way to finding what you’re looking for. In my case, I am looking for an entire person (me) and so you can see how the effort seems a larger game than your average schoolyard version.

A soul doesn’t lie, is what they say, and I think they might be right about that much.  When my soul spoke to me today, I had no choice but to listen (which is interesting because I am quite able to ignore my brain on demand.)

And so now I’m weary. Weary, but not broken.

Never, ever broken.

See? 🙂 xx