I purchased this fiddle tree 30 years ago. They call this a fiddle tree because the leaves are beautifully shaped like a violin. At that time, it was small enough to carry up my stairs into my newly-built bedroom, which I had just designed and built on the second floor of my house. I have nurtured, loved, watered and fed this child with its branches and perfectly-formed leaves all these years.
My bedroom has a cathedral ceiling and in that ceiling is a huge skylight, eight feet by four feet of clear glass, so that I can see the moon, stars, clouds, rain and sunshine. My room is solar heated by the sun through this skylight. My tree’s branches have acclimated themselves by growing gently against the ceiling. Then, because they can’t go any higher, they fan out over my bed, forming a beautiful canopy.
I’m in love with this tree and I can feel its response to my love by giving out energy. It returns my passion with its beauty and when a breeze comes wafting through my open French doors, its perfectly-formed leaves and branches dance to the song of the breeze. I can meditate for hours on this beautiful song.
This tree, with its branches and leaves, has now formed an enormous nest over my bed. We communicate in a magical way that I can’t put into words. I just feel it. My friend the fiddle tree has grown so and filled the cathedral ceiling. The only way to move it from its home, my bedroom, would be to either destroy the walls and doorways of the house or destroy the tree. Which of course I would never do. So this amazing tree will simply have to go with me to that other place and we will ascend wherever one ascends at the end of this divine journey, that we have had together.
This person, I call him my friend, watches me sleep, he watches me practice my yoga each morning and enters my dreams. And he listens to my songs. He’s part of my life and a major part of my meditation. Lying in my bed, I absorb his energy and warmth. He calms me completely, and allows me freedom from any and all distractions in my life. He listens to me.
Sometimes a leaf will turn yellow. I watch it until it falls to the floor. But I can’t bare to throw it away, so I keep all the leaves in a box. Am I strange, or what? This amazing tree gives birth to new baby leaves that grow like children and become grownups. Now they too, watch over me with unconditional love. I have lived with this tree longer than any person, dog or cat, and that’s a fact.
In spring, summer, fall and winter. Cold, hot, dry, wet; he thrives. In 30 years, not a sniffle. He is a powerful being. He fills my bedroom with beauty and peace. And he listens.
Now, who do you know that can fill that bill? A guardian angel.
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GPS for the Soul – The Huffington Post
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