A Faerie Story
Walking through the forest the young girl comes across a holy acorn, she doesn’t know it is a holy acorn, she sees it as a simple acorn. She sees it and is drawn to it and picks it up. She is delighted by her find and coos over it and clucks over it before putting it in her pocket. Around her the ethers stir, those that laid the acorn saw her pick it up. Those that waited for the one to notice it saw her pick it up and now they are focused on her and watching for what next. This acorn was delivered by the ether spirits, the joyous ones of creation and play, those that wish to fill the world with lightness and kindness, and they left the acorn for the child who would wish the same. And she came and she found the acorn.
She walks the path towards her home and feels happier and happier and lighter and lighter as she goes. She starts to notice the joyful colours around her, the deep dark greens of the leaves, the rich brown earth and the greys and blacks of the tree trunks. The earth smells strong and ancient. The trees wave softly in the wind and she becomes aware of the sun glinting off the trunks, the leaves and the ground. It sparkles and glimmers in a way that she has not noticed before and she likes it!
She starts to hum and sing, singing to the trees, singing to the birds, singing to the animals that she can see and those she can’t see. She sings songs of joy and love, songs of welcome and hello. She waves her hands and skips her feet, as she sings and is delighted by the joyous freedom she feels. This magical skipping child who remembers nature, who remembers trees and birds.
She looks up and sees the clouds flowing in the sky and sings to them as well. And she feels happy, and she feels light, and she feels joy. And those that left the acorn clap their hands in delight with this joyful child this beautiful one who found their acorn. They clap their hands and swirl around her with pleasure and giggles, laughing at her joy and feeling their own joy in response, sending their joy to her and back again. They become symbiotic and their connection gets stronger.
The playful child emerged and became stronger and stronger, more and more at ease in the forest more and more at ease in the world, the remembrance of the connection, the feeling of the connection, getting stronger and stronger with each day that she spoke to the wind, each day that she greeted the clouds, each day that she played with the trees and sang to the animals. This joyful child who stopped to pick up an acorn and allowed the wonder of the acorn to unfurl into her reality.
She left the forest feeling happiness and lightness, unknowingly surrounded by the celebrating ones, the joy filled ones, the innocent ones, who had waited for her to discover their acorn, who had waited for her to discover the child within, the way out of the forest. She stepped lightly and she skipped gently on the pathways home with the acorn in her pocket. The reminder in her pocket. The awakening in her pocket.
The innocent happy ones who had accompanied her all her life and been part of her human experiences, those who had watched her, who had loved her, who had accompanied her, yes even into her shut down and forgetting, even into her heartbreak and dismissing. They always watched and hoped for a moment when she would remember, when she would return to the innocent joy filled, trusting and playful child within and dance with the acorn in her pocket.
There was no real magic in the acorn. There was but a moment of remembering. There was but a moment in time when she forgot her woes and took notice of the tiny perfect things in life and in her path. When she stopped to pick up her magical acorn, all the tiny perfect things in life awoke and remembered her just as she remembered them.
And the symphony started, the orchestra warmed up and the strings began to play. Everything awoke with life and sang the harmonies of joy, and she heard it, and she allowed it and she felt it. Singing the songs of harmony for herself, she walked and skipped home to herself, the remembrance of self and the joy filled connection with the joyous ones, who always watched her, always supported her, always accompanied her, always loved her.
The acorn of hope that she allowed into her being that day, stayed and bloomed and grew into a huge tree of solid comfort that was always there. Those who planted the acorn with such hopes of recognition, celebrated and emerged, dancing and singing with her into a glorious life of ease and pleasure. The awakening of one was cause for such celebration and merriment, and reverberations were felt throughout the cosmos. She had found the magical acorn and grown the beautiful tree – she was home, and all was well.
