“Looking through the roots towards the sea, that is the Portal of connection, clarity, and worship”
Grazing through the root, towards the ocean. This was connection. This was clarity. This was worship.
This was a sacred moment in time where I felt divinely connected to Spirit. I could see past what was right in front of me and feel the mystery of infinity greet me. This tree, her wisdom — holding space.
Her womb held my body as I prayed. I asked for a feather to give as an offering of gratitude to her beauty, her strength. As I stepped down, there was a single, humble, white feather waiting to be gifted. I cradled the feather within her root, acknowledging the sacred alter. Thank you Holy Spirit hearing me.
How long she has remained here, sitting upon a deserted bluff, I don’t know. She is smooth from salt water and wind grazing her, she is white washed and bleached from the sun, remaining strong and intact despite the wild storms of the Pacific Northwest. I’m certain that if I proclaimed her my place of worship, she would balk, “who am I?”