The Distance You Cover

I am in the meadow where I meet with my animals standing by the Pine Tree that is my creature of imagery. It is winter and the meadow is bare. The Pine Tree stands there strong and I ask if it is my guide for this journey. The Tree’s needles shake as if it is chuckling and it says, “The only place that I can guide you is to the top of me.” So, I start to climb. It is easy to climb, like a ladder. The branches are just the right distance apart so that I climb easily inside them right by the trunk to the top of the tree. The tree is so strong from the base to the top. It doesn’t get wobbly at all. Tree says to me, “You’re like that, too.” I look out through the pine needles at this amazing view, beautiful winter, all greys and browns. I can see so far. I ask tree what I am supposed to be seeing. It says, “Just look.” In every direction it goes on and one until the scene fades out of view. I know it continues on, but I just can’t see it any longer. Tree shows me the view and relates it to the family reunion that we are planning – shows me where the view starts out strong and then ends up in a box canyon and equates that to those brothers and sisters of my father some of whom died in infancy, others who had no children. Tree points to other areas of the vast scene that seem to go on and on and says that is like the family members who had many children.

Tree shows me an area that it says represents my immediate family, showing me that whatever happens with me, this view continues in essential ways over paths of the scene of which I have no comprehension. It is a glorious view in all directions with mountains and woods, valleys, rivers, every possible manifestation of life in all directions and we are a part of it; not creating it, not separate from it, but an aware part. Sometimes we think we are creating it, but we aren’t.

I ask if there is anything I need to do with this and Pine Tree says, “Isn’t it enough to just see it and be with it? Take time to be with it.” My bear (feeling) and turtle (grounding) and mountain lion (emotion) come to join me in the Pine Tree and at once the Tree is filled with my family. My grandchildren are playing with Bear and it is such a joyous scene. The spirit of my daughter Cindy is here just being with every member of my family. I thank her for always being with us. She tells me that it doesn’t matter what happens to me, whether I remain here or go to be with her. My spirit will be with my family always, too. She says, “Nothing is ever lost. It is a vast tapestry. We each are just a thread, an essential thread. Your role and the role of each of us is to be the strongest best thread we can be for the time that we are here, not to worry how many others we touch. We are each one on our path. There is no way to judge and no reason to judge someone else’s path. We just need to live the best we can.”

I become aware that I can recognize myself and each of my brothers and sisters and parents and children and friends in the tapestry that is the scene extending outward forever around the Pine Tree. Each of us is a brilliant stitch surrounded by a unique tapestry flower, some tiny, some spreading out endlessly and unknowably interwoven with other flowers, but each perfect. And I realize that the tapestry is continually being woven as I watch.

It is so beautiful to see the tapestry being woven.

I finally climb down the tree and when I get to the bottom it is Spring. Everything is in bloom. Lots of blue Iris in the meadow. It is so lovely. I thank the Tree for always being there and for such a beautiful journey. Tree says, “The distance you cover is not important. It is the quality and the beauty of your journey that is important.”

Rosalie Douglas Journey

Guided by Gail Perkin in Tucson AZ
February 11, 2004 Austrian