I’ve been taking a songwriting class. Again and again, the teacher asks: What is the most vulnerable thing you can say right now? Again and again, I pick up a pen, place my fingers on the piano keys, and listen. What is the most vulnerable thing my heart can say right now? What does my heart want to say? In the night hours between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, I woke with a jolt and the question: What is the most vulnerable thing I can say right now? At 2 am. On Christmas Day. What is the most vulnerable thing I can say? As always, a pen and notebook waited by my bed. I picked up a pen and began to write. What is the most vulnerable thing I can say? I have no idea what I’m doing. If the Universe is looking for someone with all the answers, Then I am not its girl. All my life I’ve prided myself on knowing the answers. Now? Nothing. What if I don’t say what I’ve come to say? What if I never find the words? Never sing the songs? What if my voice doesn’t matter? What if I keep myself small? What if no one notices me? I’m scared. What if I don’t do what I came here to do? Mullein: no one ever misses their mark. I fell asleep writing. In the morning, I noticed one last illegible line, written somewhere between waking and sleeping. My one last Vulnerable Thing was a mystery. Until it wasn’t. This is the year I become an oracle.
And just like that: the dots connected, and it all came together -- all these years, all these experiences, all these journal entries, all these messages, all these desires, all these longings, all these All These. Only a few evenings before this 2am Vulnerable Thing revelation, I had been facilitating a plant spirit gathering, PINE SONG. Moving towards and through the Solstice, we spent five nights together, listening to a different plant each evening. The final evening, we sat with Tulip Poplar, the tree of my heart. Here is portion of her message to me: You are a mouthpiece for the Divine Light. You are a speaker meant to sound, to spread the Divine Word, the Divine Song. It is why you are here. You are ready now. Thank you for your patience. That last line -- that one brought me to tears. So, here we are. Here I am. A Liriodendress. Let’s do this.