Big Mother Oak  

For the past fifteen years I have slept in her grand arms. Rested better than ever in my life. Beneath her majestic canopy, I felt safe and held as never before, cradled by the majesty of this old Coast Live Oak. She has not come back with green foliage this spring. She is bare and shrinking. Ambrosia beetles are feasting on her sap in the lower trunk. She has decided, I have to let her go. A deeply meaningful process for me – difficult – outer and inner. She is pulling her energies back into the root system, giving it over to her little sister, brother, children, and her dear friend, the Cork Oak a few feet away, huge in size like her. My immediate question to Mother Oak is:

 

“What are you trying to teach me? What are you gifting me?” 

Like my elders and mentors throughout my life, Big Mama Oak disperses her wisdom in slowly unraveling stories that will accompany me for weeks, months, and years, waiting to be fully digested and deciphered. In the middle of this extraordinary unfolding, I try to stay steady and grounded. Will her costly disappearance force me to sell, move out of the area, uproot myself in major and speedy ways? But a few days in, little and big miracles start happening, and I am feeling an amazing inner expansion. Mother Oak seems intent on making space for the yet unknowable and wonders. Spaciousness, light, new plants and growth, a new tree? And at times I feel as if her physical disappearance might leave room for my spirit and soul to expand and dream beyond…

 

...beyond old fears, reasoning, fixations, and conclusions

Three shots in the back – one would have been enough to kill – I feel them between my shoulder blades as I take a brisk evening walk. Right where our horizontal and vertical alignments meet, our crux: the HEART. My stepdaughter’s heart stopped beating, she left early, in a violent ending. We can’t make sense of that. My heart still skipping beats. Friends, even months later now, are kindly sending me condolences after coming across one of the posts I wrote about her murder and loss. I myself might have a few more years left here on earth. But death is my daily companion. I bow, and then take time to make sure I am fully alive and present. Drinking in the smallest delights & wonders...

 

...it might be over in the blink of an eye

It seems time for me to accept gifts. Out of the blue unexpected help from friends and community is offered. As in mythic dimensions, I sense myself in the twirl of surprising turns and twists. For 33 years, I have lived with Mama Oak. What a big thing to lose her. I am sad, scared, and curious. She provided shelter and food for countless birds and insects, and her long bare branches were highways for busy squirrel acrobats. When I told the six young men from my film Finding the Gold Within that I had climbed her in the old days, they promptly did that. And then had a hard time getting down without injuring themselves. We laughed hard, relieved. She allowed me to fly high, swing into her canopy and the sky, on the handmade swing. My gratitude and grief go deep; they go hand in hand. The looming event of Big Mother Oak being cut down will bring about much change and transformation here in Karinaland – for all plant and animal beings, neighbors, visitors, and me. Remembering her, everyone will make their own stories. Over time and together, we will find ever-fleeting new balance and beauty….