Safety in Numbers


I recently spent a week in San Francisco.  It was beautiful and I had a great time.  One of the highlights of my trip was a visit to Muir Woods National Monument to see the redwoods.  My friend and I arrived extra early, so as to beat the busloads of tourists (like me, lol).


It was so quiet and serene, almost unreal walking among the breathtaking, majestic trees.  I decided to stop in a spot called “The Cathedral” that is so special that there’s  a sign asking you not to talk while you’re there.  That seemed the perfect place to sit and BE.  I motioned to my friend that I was going to visit for a while and she nodded and went on ahead.  I sat on the bench in that amazing grove of trees, that cathedral and I felt something I haven’t felt a lot in my life – safe.   I imagined that those trees were watching over me, keeping me from harm.  They were loving me unconditionally and I was loving them right back.  Even as I’m typing this, my eyes are tearing up from the memory.  I sat on that bench and cried.  I cried because it felt safe to do so.  I cried for all the times when I couldn’t cry.  I cried because I felt like I mattered  in that moment, at least to those trees.  I cried for all the times when I felt I didn’t matter to anyone.  I felt tiny and expansive at the same time.  I felt hopeful.  I felt like I was going to be okay.  It felt good and I am so grateful to my graceful, leafed guardians for being there for me.


I will never forget my time in “The Cathedral”.


2 responses »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s