The Yew in You

If someone told you that you could commune with the eternal, would you?

Encouraged by the possibility of knowing our future, or a chance to find meaning, maybe we would say yes.

It’s October. The air is cold. Cold enough for an extra layer but warm enough that memories hold the remnants of summer. I want to stay outside with the autumn rays tingling on my skin. Tears are streaming down my face. I stand warily on the boundary of the unknown, unsure whether to envelope myself in the umbrage of the Yew or whether to stay just were I am; in ignorance, disconnected, unaware of what is beyond.

I have been working with a wonderful woman, Charlotte, all morning. She is an apothecary; a medicine maker who is in commune with the Earth and her gifts. The wisdom seeps out of her. If I hold my breath I can feel her gifts wash over me, almost taint me with their beauty. There was magic in the air this morning. As the fire crackled in the hearth, she spoke of the universe, of soul, of connection. In …