I’m at home in the redwoods of California. My whole being knows this to be true.

Until 10 months ago, I was not aware that such a place existed for me. I knew the redwoods existed and had walked in Muir Woods as a teen with my family. Beyond that I gave no thought to those giant trees until I felt a call to walk those centuries old groves. When it evolved into a longing, I realized there was something waiting for me.

Our first adventure hiking amidst the redwoods and sequoias in the state and national parks was soul enriching.

Walking in silence through the groves was so deeply refreshing and perfect that I mourned leaving. All the way home and for days afterwards, I felt a deep loss. I had the idea that I wouldn’t return to these new found friends, or at least not for many years.

Last December my husband opened the invitation to travel. “What are we waiting for?” he asked.

I had no good answer to that question even though life was full of events, work, and people in need. When he asked where I wanted to go, my heart leapt. The redwoods beckoned and we booked our flight. It takes a lot of time to get to those trees. Flying across the country and driving 5 hours north of San Francisco. All to get to the little town of Orick, population 257, and my absolute favorite Prairie Creek State Park.

I could envision our little AirBnB. The picture windows overlooking the hummingbirds, fields of cattle, and the pacific ocean foaming as it kissed the sand.

Unexpectedly rerouted from a visit with dear friends, we found ourselves landing in Arcata for a few days. Offering the opportunity to explore Arcata Community Forest, Arcata Redwood Park, and the Arcata Bird Sanctuary along the coast. As our adventure began, I knew the routine. Relaxed mornings, a longer hike, home for lunch and perhaps a nap outside, a leisurely late afternoon hike, and a quiet evening.

I entered Arcata Community Forest as I do every forest, mountain, or body of water.

I offer gratitude to Pachamama for Her beauty and ask permission to enter. Here, I called upon the deva of the forest, that nature spirit that served the entirety of the ecosystem. And then I introduced ourselves. While that may sound silly, it’s a practice that allows for the respectful exchange of energy.

By stating our names out loud in greeting, I offered our energetic signature to nature and claimed our place within this living energy.

Walking slowly, letting my gaze travel upward, I began to speak silently with the trees. That’s another habit, sometimes silently and often aloud, I enter into conversation with the natural world.

I didn’t get very far into our little chat before I heard “Sssshhhh.”

Okay, that was unexpected and it shut me right up. I opened to listen and heard the trees tell me that my mind was too busy and my body too tense. That was true. I had been working every day, late into the night preparing for the Seeding the Light Gathering. I felt the tightness in my body from sitting at my desk, on the plane, and in the car for so many hours. In total agreement, I zipped my mental lips.

“How about you just hike.”

“Oh yes!” said every fiber of my being as my body and mind exhaled. It was as if these wise teachers offered me the ever present suggestion to “Let go and Just Be.” That day, every step, was a shedding. Without effort, while I soaked in the silent majesty, the stress that had taken up residence within my system released.

I eagerly entered a new trail on Day 2 and wondered what gifts were in store. 

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I heard the trees whisper “Patience.”

I had to laugh. As if one day of shedding the busyness of my mind was sufficient. So, I brought my whole attention to the path. Again and again as my mind returned to planning and tasks. I realized that I could “just hike” every day and trust that the redwoods would drop their concise teaching into my lap.

Hiking through Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park on day 3, amidst a ton of tourists, I saw such beauty.

In the forests and the enjoyment of each human face turned upward. Within the streams, the sky, those trees. It touched me deeply, this beauty. Even the dust from the gravel which adorned the ferns lining the narrow road felt like a decoration.

At some point the lesson of that day formed into words.