If you know me, you know how I love to use the word path. Some synonyms for path are trail, course, conduit, lane, passageway, and corridor. I have been asked and have asked the Universe myself many times, "what is my path" or "what is the path?" Some religions say that there is only one path, others say we decide our path(s). What I can say for 100% sure is that it is soul nourishing and very beneficial to discover a path(s) that you resonate with. However, I have also found that a path, or the path, leads to more paths that connect if you will just keep walking, growing, exploring, learning, listening, and loving. This is how I see it through the magical lens and that of a child.
When I was a little girl, there was a copse of woods that was just adjacent to our barn. In fact, you could walk through the barn hall, climb over a gate, and there you were. I thought, at that time, it was a forest like the ones in the Smoky Mountains. It was magic in every sense of the word. In that grove of trees, my brother, sister, and I would make paths with cedar brooms leading to our fort, of course. There were no boundaries it seemed when we would plan adventures in the woods and it was the most peaceful and safe place on Earth for me. I felt I was watched over by the trees and all those "twinkling lights" that I could see. Those twinkling lights would build upon the paths that I find most beneficial to me now as an adult, but that is another faery tale....
Back to paths in our woods.... some paths led directly to the fort, well as straight as we could make it. Some paths led away from the fort down the hill and over to the gully that was enormous and served as a protection of briar thickets, a mote (runoff from the rain), and trolls (gnarled roots) living in the gully that protected the fort and us. One path in particular went a long way, back up the hill, passed the barn, on up to the line fence to Farmer Jarrell's enormous wheat field. As the path came to a halt at the fence row, that is where I discovered what I know now as an in between place (a place that is neither here or there, but is a portal for magic). That path led me to the fence where a large cedar tree grew. The fence row was overgrown with honeysuckle vines, blackberry briars, spider webs, and many other assorted brambles. At the end of the path, I would stand looking through the brambles and I would see the green wheat swaying in the breeze, and lo I could see the wheat appear to part just on the other side of the fence where my path ended. It seemed so clear to me that my path, which we had labored over with the cedar brooms, (made from cedar tree limbs) and the wheat parting in just such a way, were signs that my path did not end just because there were unseen boundary lines that my Mom said not to cross as well as the dense thicket of brambles. I looked up into the big cedar tree and there were the twinkle lights brighter than ever and they were not lightning bugs (fireflies) or glowworms, but they were moving and twinkling in assorted colors.
For the longest time I pondered just how I would get to the enormous wheat field to continue on that magical path that opened up just for me. Amazingly to me now my next course of action was a stroke of genius, for I have not been known prior or since to take the easiest path, I ran back down the path, over the gate(I never unlatched it because it took too much time), through the barn hall, up to the back pasture, and to the fence row which was all clean and cleared of any brambles. I stood panting for breath looking at my favorite oak tree. The oak was on this invisible boundary line too. You see, that oak tree was my guide to how far I was allowed to go. Today, however, I shimmied under the fence and into the green, unripened wheat field, which was over my head...... I ran and ran just until I could see the tip-top of the big oak tree and threw myself down into the wheat. I wish I could express in words the joy of being in the middle of a vast wheat field and no one around and only the sound of the breeze in the wheat making a song. The bluest sky overhead and the feeling of being weightless and safe. I forgot about looking for my path that magically opened and I remained in that spot for a long time with no thoughts......just being there. The sun was directly overhead when I plopped down, and when I decided to move it was setting across the tip of the oak tree back toward our house, which was the direction of the sunset. It took me so long to get back to the fence and oak tree, in contrast to the time that it took me to get to the middle of the big wheat field. Evidently, time had been suspended for me.
As I look back, I would go to that path's end again and again, but never saw the parting of the wheat. I did sneak back to the wheat field, but never went as far as I did on that magical day. However, I did continue to see the twinkle lights in the trees until we moved from the farm.... There is a message or messages in this story. As the reader, you will find your own symbolic meanings woven into the fabric of this tale, as well as the sacred paths you choose to explore.
All in this beautiful, precious, wild lifetime, some paths will be straight, some paths will lead to the thorny gully with trolls (some helpers), some paths will lead to obstacles, some paths appear to end, some paths go beyond your perceived limits, some paths will lead to magic, wonder, and unspeakable joy. The voice of experience says: all paths interconnect, all paths teach us, and all paths lead to home.
Life takes you on many paths of learning, healing, and loving. This is true! But, never take a path because someone else tells you its the only way.
