The Edge of the Forest
I sat on my porch this morning and watched the sun come up. As it rose higher, pools of sparkling sunlight broke through the tree line and danced on the wet grass, the flowers and tree limbs swaying in the breeze. I am surrounded, circled by the woods this Memorial Day morning.
As I sat in silence, observing the wildlife… the big owl, the deer, the fox that thinks I can’t see him, the groundhog that ambles from under the front steps… a story comes to my mind. It is a piece of guided imagery I used during a recent workshop based on the story of the boy King Arthur and the Sword in the Stone by T. H. White.
The wizard Merlin, tutoring Arthur, schooled the boy in understanding and wisdom by turning him into various creatures… a badger, a goose, an ant, a falcon. When the time came for the assembled knights to try and pull the sword from the stone there was great noise and hoopla… and they all failed. When the circle cleared and Arthur wrapped his hands around the hilt of the sword, his experience was the same. Alone on the rock he grunted, sweat dripping from his brow. And then he paused, breathing slowly, his eyes sweeping the now empty clearing. What was that? Movement at the edge of the forest… and as his eyes adjusted to the shadows among the trees he saw them. They were there… the badger, the falcon, all those from whom he had learned. All those who had nurtured him, taught him. “As he greeted them with his eyes, he opened again to the powers he perceived in each of them – the industry, the cunning, the quick boldness, the perseverance… and knowing they were with him he turned back to the stone and, breathing easy, drew out the sword, as smooth as the knife from butter.”
Remembering
This Memorial Day I am remembering those who have taught me, given me love and seen things in me that I couldn’t see in myself. From my grandfather who served his country and never spoke of it… his gentle strength encouraged me… to the uncles who served with integrity and honor. The strong women in my family, my Mother raising four kids after my Father died from cancer… working two jobs to keep things going. The teachers, Mrs. Holbert, Mrs. Houseal, who saw something in that skinny, shy kid all those years ago… encouraging me to find my voice. The ministers, mentors and colleagues who challenged me to become. And the friends… who shared the laughter, the support, the tears, and the triumphs. I see them all in the edge of my forest and today I honor them with my love and a heartfelt thank you. I know they are with me still.
Who do you see?
