The Forest of light, the Forest of Stories

In a world full of nothing, there was one solitary tree. Its branches were strong, long and
muscular. They spread wide as if holding an invisible world in its arms.
Instead of bearing fruit, silver orbs of light hung from its limbs, softly glowing, softly
humming. As each orb fell, it rolled away from the mother tree and a new orb would light
up on its branches, its shoony shine shimmering with renewed energy. Each time this
happened, the tree would sigh with satisfaction for creating light was healing. It soothed its
aches and pains and eased its loneliness.
The silver orbs were so special for they were not just spheres of light, but also tiny balls of
stories ready to unfold and ready to be told. But in a world full of nothing, there was no one
to tell and no one to hear their healing powers.
So each year, the silvery orbs learnt to roll a little further from the mother tree refusing to
be trapped. They needed to be shared, shining their light to whomever wished to see it and
in doing so, they found tracks and trails in which to move and evolve. They learnt about bad
soil - stony soil that would scratch and scrape, boggy soil that would suck and sink. They
found good soil and as so often is the way, this was somewhere in between. And it was here
that they could grow.
And grow they did into fine trees the mother tree would be proud of. Strong, rooted and
glowing with healthy, healing light. This continued for many years until the trees reached
the edge of nothingness. They looked back and they realised that the nothingness of before
was now a fruitful forest full of life. Each tree sighed with satisfaction for creating
something was healing.
Now, birds danced to the rustling of leaves, finding their own music as they twisted and
turned. Animals climbed, animals hid. Animals scampered and animals spread the message
of love as they explored their habitat, wild and free. Leaves fell like love hearts, floating on
the breeze and they scatters more words of wisdom for those who wished to listen and
those who were ready to hear. And all the life in the forest listened and learnt and lived in
harmony.
On one side of the forest, lived a young girl. On the other lived a young boy. Both had
roamed the land full of nothing in search of something. They were weary from their wasted
efforts. But now, here they were on the edge of the forest full of light, the forest full of
stories. This was the first time they had encountered anything that was something and not
nothing and this particular something was more than their eyes could bear at first. The soft
light of the silver orbs was dazzling to their untrained eyes. The gentle sounds of its nature
was loud and lively to their untrained ears. The soothing scents of the forest were powerful
to their untrained noses. So they entered this new world with a beginner’s mind,
questioning and curious and step by step, their senses adapted to their surroundings and
they felt alive as they connected and merged with their world.
Stories now filled their souls as orbs of light, one by one, were caught, absorbed and
savoured. Each story taught them something new about the world, life and its many gifts.
Each day, they experienced something new. They learnt how to feel, think and understand.
These stories shaped them, supported them and stretched them. These stories helped
them grow like the trees around them and soon they bore their own orbs of light ready to
unfold and ready to be told.
So they told the birds and they listened and loved. They told the flowers and they nodded
their petals in contentment. They whispered them to the wind who carried their words as
he flew and flowed through the trees, letting each story forge its own silvery path. And both
the boy and the girl trailed and tracked these paths, refusing to be trapped.
As they wove their way through the forest of light, the forest of stories, joy filled heir hearts
and they grew strong and connected with the earth beneath their feet. They sprinkled their
stories, words scattering like a million grains of sand. They showered their stories words
swirling like confetti and each tree sighed when they heard them for hearing stories is
healing.
This happened for many years until both the boy and the girl reached the heart of the
forest. Here was the very source of the rhythms of the forest. Here they stood gently
glowing, gently humming. They were two orbs of light, full of stories ready to unfold, ready
to be told.
And now their eyes met. This was the first time they had encountered something that was
not the forest of light, the forest of stories, but just as special and precious. So they entered
this new world with the beginner’s mind, questioning and curious. All was vivid and vibrant,
passion a-plenty. Day by day, they sipped and savoured the new sensations and they felt
alive.
Stories unfolded, were told and evolved. Told and re-told. They sighed with satisfaction for
love is very healing. And they held hands as together they were a new story, and they trailed
and tracked, refusing to be trapped.