Obviously. . . .otherwise, I wouldn’t have stowed away in a convent for nineteen years. When I believed I had failed to discover the Divine behind the cloister walls, I looked elsewhere. Rather than finding the reassurance and comfort a traditional God, I discovered it in Nature. Trees, especially, were a source of light during my darkest times. (Those times to be revealed in my book). I often headed deep into the woods and settled at the base of a cluster of pine trees, where a soft and uplifting presence took me over.
Since leaving the convent, I continue to seek the Divine. Only now, I seek it outside the realm of traditional religions or churches. I find a solid ground and hope–often through Trees. As it happens, I have known Trees to be among the most ancient of living beings on our planet, and find that sense of divine presence magnified among the more Ancient Standing Ones.
Fifteen years ago, a few friends and I visited the site of a 2000 year old Cedar tree in Northern Idaho. It towered above the surrounding forest in magnificent glory, while we hastened to gather at its feet. We were unable to speak, we simply stood, breathing in her splendor.
I felt touched. . hushed. . deepened.. .
I have since learned that there are even more ancient, beings on our planet. Even more than we are aware of. Pictured above is sea grass, that has been living in Spain for 100,000 years. The sight of such beauty brings me to my knees. Something I was too often required to do in the presence of our tabernacled God in the convent.
Now back to my writing for the day.