I have a sacred grove that I go to when I meditate. It’s a clearing in a massive forest. Deep within the trees where almost no sun shines through. It has a grassy lawn and in it I am surrounded by the trees. Sounds of nature permeat the silence. The sounds of birds. The sounds of squirrels scampering. The very sound of the forest itself breathing and growing all around me. It is a restful spot. A spot where I can go to clear my head and recharge my batteries in the wonders of nature.
In the ring around my clearing is an oak tree. Massive in size the other trees seem juvenile in comparison. This is an oak of great years. An oak of much experience. This oak has seen it all.
The oak stands there alone amongst many. It soars above the rest. It has huge gnarled roots that grow deep into the ground. It’s leaves are massive as well. And acorns lay strewn at its base.
This oak offers me comfort. When I am feeling worn out by my world it takes my burdens upon itself. It offers me flashes of wisdom when I quiet my brain enough to hear its messages. It is a destination for a troubled soul.
It offers me a view of stability. It stands there never moving. Always planted in the same place. Always with its branches swaying gently in the wind. It offers hope to me as I am scattered and frantic and it is solid and strong.
For me this tree is the Tree of Life. Offering advice to those who would heed its ancient wisdom. Offering a place to go of solitude and rest. Offering a sanctuary to those in need of spirituality. This oak offers whatever is needed. And still on it gives.