February: Walking outside I feel drawn to a part of my property I don't always focus on: the white picket fence in the front yard near the road (I'm much more likely to be out in the woods). I check the fruit trees for winter storm damage and just generally look around, seeing what there is to see. Glancing at the base of the fence I see the white back legs of a rabbit, still and grave. Sometime during the recent cold snap (negative temperatures, a killing cold) he tried to jump between two pickets and became stuck. As I gently kneel beside him my sacral chakra roils with feelings: fear, sadness, confusion, the panic and terror of being trapped, a traumatic death. My heart chakra swells as I reach out with gloved hands and manage to extricate him from the fence. Imagine dying in a place you don't recognize, in a way you don't understand, with no way to help yourself. I suddenly know just the place to take his cold body and tortured soul so that they may receive succor.
As I walk across the frozen yard a thought flows into me: "There's something else I need. It's in the house, on my altar." I don't know what it is that I need, but that's the way with intuition, the reasons and solutions are only revealed if you follow along, allow the subtle currents of energy and trust to direct you to where and what you need. I leave the rabbit's body next to the house steps with assurance of my return. At my altar I realize I need incense, frankincense to be precise. I gather a lighter as well. Once outside with the rabbit in my arms again, I set off for the woods. I head for a group of white pines, for a specific tree: a three foot wide elder whose roots have risen near two feet above the ground so that there are a couple of elevated moss islands that look like small dog beds under the tree's protective branches. This grandmother tree has told me before that we are to do work together.
I place the rabbit upon one of the moss beds and set up the incense in front of him. As the thin line of smoke twists and curls upwards, I settle back and breathe in. I start to let the Reiki energy flow from my hands and heart out to the rabbit. I flash back to him trapped, panicking; my stomach clenches as my sacral chakra is again overwhelmed with feelings. I breathe energy into the chakra, soothing and calming, releasing that fear into the ground. I recenter us - the rabbit and I are working together now. I show him what happened to him from a different perspective so that he can understand and move past the confusion and terror. With the tree, I start to show him the beautiful land of energy into which he can now move. He is hesitant at first, but once he realizes there is no longer anything holding him back, he leaps forward and flowingly hops away to take his place among the other energies that inhabit our forest. My third eye chakra relaxes and I come back to my body, back to the pleasant cold and the crisp air. I walk back to the house, leaving the rabbit's body and soul in the wondrous arms of the trees.
April: I feel that I have to go see the forest; it's been too long since I've walked among the trees and listened to the birds. I feel drawn towards the grandmother tree again. As I make my way through the undergrowth, it seems brighter than a month ago - a change has occurred. Things here are eternally transitioning to their next forms. I come to where the tree used to stand and find everything out of phase. The grandmother tree has fallen, but as it fell it revealed its roots and the ground that used to be beneath them.
Everything feels charged. The roots now make a 15 foot wall full of crevices where the energy pools. I see myself bringing people here, people sitting on the ground in front of the roots and feeling at peace with the forest. It's too wet now though, too muddy and ... raw.
July: I walk outside for morning barn chores. The sun is shining and things feel different; I realize it's the day I am to work on the root circle. In the afternoon I blaze a path through underbrush and dismantle one of the stone walls low enough to drive over. I bring tractor loads of dirt from elsewhere in the forest. I spread it out into an elevated layer, away from the mud. It needs something else: rocks, a border. I see it as if it's already there, a row of stones lining the fresh dirt, with one opening to allow people to move freely further into the forest. I see the border like a curtain of energy extending upwards, allowing those who are ready to heal into the circle and encouraging those who are not ready yet to avoid the area. I gather stones from the surroundings, one at a time, as they call to me. Sometimes it takes a couple of minutes to find the next one. With each stone I add, I also add energy. I imbue the rocks and dirt with the intention of healing, of connecting people with nature.
When the rocks are complete I sit in the center, letting the dirt sift through my hands, feeling how it sticks together and how it breaks apart. I see a fire in the circle, small but hot, the roots basking in the warmth and energy as it flows. I see my hands using the ash and charcoal on the stone ring, a blessing as well as a ward against unhelpful energies. I also see water, raining down through the roots and on to the circle, cleansing and refreshing, and myself at the center, basking in the wildness. But those things are for later. My third eye chakra relaxes and I am present again. I lay back on the dirt, absorbing the sight of a blue sky framed with green leaves, the absolute beauty of it, the calmness. I let my eyes close and drift away, thoughts and images flitting across my mind, resting and healing. You never know where following your intuition will take you.
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