Sacred Story Transmission

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Little Doe and the Sacred Heart

Maria Mar

EXCERPT

Eye to the Heart sat under her favorite tree, a huge Sequoia tree with great ancient roots protruding around its trunk. At the center of the protruding root system, Sequoia had sculpted a heart-shaped throne. Here Eye to the Heart rested. Her eyes were closed, but her Heart Eye opened in rings of loving gratitude that softly danced around the shamaness.

Her Heart Eye followed the roots as they extended in a twelve feet circumference, forming several inviting circles around her. Love flooded her heart as she remembered the many teachings she had shared with the women from the village and how they had seated in these warm root circles, opening and nurturing their hearts with stories and songs.

The soft morning rays streamed through the multitude of awl-shaped leaves, kissing their slightly spreading tips and blending their green tinge to the pink morning hue.

Eye to the Heart opened her heart joyfully. A beautiful musical note escaped her lips. As if summoned, the morning rays streamed down and showered her. The shamaness allowed the pink and green rays to nurture her Toroidal Energy Field, enjoying the expansion of her heart’s miraculous power. Her gratitude caressed the rusty red trunk of the tree, thickened with deep layers of furrowed bark. Sequoia seemed to purr.

Eye to the Heart listened to the Sacred Heart of the Earth.

It was singing the fertile Song of Trees in forest-green hues and bird harmonies. Wood drummed its belonging deep within the Earth and bamboo hummed its dreams in the streams of the winds.

Eye to the heart heard a gurgling sound and her ears dived deeper into the melody around her.

The thirsty roots of Sequoia drank from the dark waters in the womb of Earth. The shamaness heard the water whispering the mysteries of what had been long ago into the long, old roots.

“Centuries of silence have seeped into her sap…” she heard as the whispers surged up the trunk, out of hearing range.

The Sequoia roots crawled farther and deeper into Earth. Eye to the Heart heard the powdery steps of minerals. They brought news of the hidden truths transpiring in the hearts of the inhabitants of the surrounding villages.

“Pushing, gritty, staggering against the wind, cutting against the fiber. They kick so hard that it breaks her,” the crumbly voices sounded somewhere between a protest and a lament.

Now the shamaness heard a remote reverberation somewhere at the top of the trunk, like the humming of a radio signal.  She recognized the syntony of the Field of Possibilities.

“She approaches. Will she enter? She seeks,” hummed Sequoia picking up bits of potential from the edges of The Field.

Eye to the Heart allowed the Song of the Sequoia to run up her legs, into her nourished belly and her happy heart and out of her lips in a grave, low, long hhhoooooooouuuuuuuummmmm.

A dream opened in her heart of shaky footsteps approaching. She felt a tiny presence, like little doe taking her first timid steps, hungry to dash through the forest, but doubting her shaking legs.

“Good morning, Little Doe, may your fist steps be blessed with dreams of the wind under your feet,” Eye to the Heart whispered without opening her eyes.

“How…how do you know I’m here?” a child’s voice stuttered from the nearby trees. “Your eyes were closed and I’ve been very quiet, and I was hidden behind this tree.”

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