The Tree of Life
An original story from a very strange dream by Michele Gwynn

I had a dream the other day a man came to town. He was a man of peace. His eyes were dark and warm. His smile lit up the world. His dark hair was just above the shoulders, curling lightly; soft as a lamb. He stood head and shoulders above all other men.

He had a gift to give us, he said. Everyone sat in wonder, listening. The gift would be a healing, if we were willing to try. A healing? Everyone asked and everyone doubted but all were curious and just a bit hopeful.

He sat us in a circle, this mass of people who gathered at the sound of his voice. He told us to be not afraid, and we were not. As we watched, a great white light descended from the sky. It grew larger and brighter until it blocked out everything, including our consciousness briefly.

I woke inside a garden of trees. Each row of trees stretched for miles in every direction. I stood before one such tree. On this tree was a small board with my name on it. I stared at it, wrapped in a warm cocoon of soft white light. I felt no pain and no sorrow, only joy and peace.

A hand touched my shoulder. I turned to look and see who it was. It was he. “This is your tree” he said. “It is your tree of life. Now is your opportunity to change that within you or about you that you wish to have healed. You need only seek out the damaged root and break it off, then toss it away”.

I looked at the tree, my tree. It was tall and beautiful. It was green and flowering. I looked down at the earth it sat in. The roots shot out of the dirt all around it. I did not know where to begin.

“How can I possibly find the one root I’m searching for?” “Roots grow deep and I couldn’t possibly dig deep enough with my own hands”. I asked this query.

He smiled at me and said “All the trees of life grow shallow in the earth because they are not meant to last. When their cycle is complete, they return to the dirt from whence they came and a new tree of life will emerge in its place. The spirit of the old trees will nurture the new ones or become new trees again.”

I was amazed at how simple the answer. I got down upon my knees, something I could never do in reality since growing up with damaged bones had prevented such a simple task, and began to dig around the roots with my bare hands. I would uncover a root, see that it was healthy, and recover it with the rich, warm soil, moving on to the next one.

After a time, I finally found the root I was looking for. It was old and gnarled but still looked quite healthy. Somehow, I knew it was the one. I started to grab it and pull, intending to snap it off and discard it, but then I stopped. I sat back, contemplating this old root. It had been there from the beginning. It still fed my tree. It did its job of nurturing the rest of the tree while holding fast to earth with all its might. It supported the tree although it was gnarled and twisted. I began to cover it back up again with the warm, rich soil.

“My child” he said, “Why have you left alone that which you have come here seeking?”

I looked up at him, a tear rolling down my cheek. “I have just realized that this root is at the very heart of me. I have seen it with my own eyes and it is not diseased, but healthy. It is as much a part of this tree as that which I wish healed is a part of me. It makes the tree what it is. It makes me who I am. If I take it away, then what will become of us, the tree and me?”

He smiled like one who is happy to see knowledge dawning and he sank down next to me. He took my hand and pointed it to the many miles of trees in the garden. “My child, look at all these trees, then look to yours and tell me what is different”.

I looked around. All the trees were swaying in the breeze, basking in the sun, and offering shelter to the birds and creatures living in the garden. I looked at my own tree and, it too, was doing the same. All the trees were beautiful. None was any different from the other.

“They are all the same, really. Each is enjoying its life and helping others. Each is beautiful and healthy” I said.

He stood up, taking my hands and lifting me up beside him. He looked into my eyes and the feeling of happiness filled my heart. The white light returned and just before waking I heard his voice say…..”My child, I am so proud of you, for now, you are healed”.