Into the Kingdom
Doorway to a hidden land
The darkening wood beckons,
the encompassing silence
a cloak
woven with starlight
and owl wings
Each step, a feeling
forward into the gathering
night
~ from The Unwavering Harmony of Being
by E. Liles
[unpublished manuscript]
The first time Victor and I ever visited Lost Lake in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest, we arrived after dark. In near silence we set up “old-trusty,” our tiny, orange two-person tent. It was almost the new moon and pitch black. Pinpricks of starlight shown here and there through the canopy of the tall, lean birches and maples. We picked our way by feel and fumble down to the lake. The air vibrated in place, a sheer curtain of silence. We sat together, pressing our side bodies in towards each other. We barely whispered, neither of us wanting to break the sanctum aura. Gazing into the clear mirror of the water’s surface, the luminosity of the heavens reflected thrice. Twice within our outer vision - the horizontal divide of lake and sky. The third angle a kaleidoscopic backscattering into every cell behind our eyes. Slowly we sank into the reverential cadence of the old growth forest surrounding. Awe and silence. Sharing presence. Noiselessly, we sat for perhaps five minutes. Until a susurration distinct in its sudden uprising, shifted through the birch leaves from twenty feet behind us, forward, up our backs, and over our heads. There was no other pervasive breeze. Nowhere else did any wind blow or fissle. Our minds were one in thought and voiced confirmation: we were greeted, evidently, specifically; our presence accepted by the denizens of the wood.
It’s not that we are separate from the wild and must forge a connection; the task is only the dropping of certain thought patterns - those which mask our primordial condition.
Lost Lake is one of our favorite places on this earth. We have gone there every year for the past five years. At this point it is not only a tradition, but a deep soul need. Whenever we arrive, I have the distinct sense that we have passed through an invisible veil. The borders between dimensions seem porous there. It is easy to slip from this world into the other, in as simple a movement as taking one step further amongst the trees.
The lake itself is small - 86 acres - clear spring waters filled with smallmouth bass, brown and rainbow trout. A portion of the lake is bordered by old-growth hemlock, the rest of the lake is surrounded by birch, maple, cedar, and basswood. In spring, the profusion of great white trillium and ramps is beyond measure. In the summer and fall, the mushrooms proliferate - amanita, russala, chanterelle, bolete, black trumpet, birch polypore, reishi, hedgehog…and so many more I have yet to meet. Certain plants grow there - such as blue cohosh, bloodroot, and trout lily - which only dwell when the forest has been left a long time to its own inner management. We always eat of the wild while we are there. This habit is part of our seasonal recalibration along with swimming daily, especially in the fall when the waters become icy. I love walking down to the lake in the early morning or late evening and sitting up to my neck in the cold thrill. Victor often joins me. After, we sit by the wood stove in our canvas bell tent, basking in the warmth, filled with a special kind of ecstasy.
These experiences are my kind of luxury. A set of jewels I have come to seek.
It is extremely quiet at Lost Lake - not devoid of sound, but deeply tranquil in a way that only an untouched forest can be. The great elements are vividly present and balanced, like the descriptions of hidden lands I have read about in the Tibetan Buddhist texts. Places of immense primal power, where we can more easily realize the nature of ourselves and the universe. In these secret, sacred lands - it is said that the archetypal forces of water, earth, fire, and air abide in perfect symmetry - all contained within the great space of awareness. A mandala of wisdom. A medicine wheel of magic, mystery, and healing.
Something I find wonderful about a hidden land is that it can exist in plain sight - yet not be seen. Entry into the realm depends on the person and their perception. The guardians who stand watch on the borders only appear fearsome to those who are not ready. For the fully ripened, these sentinels part the gates with a flourish and bow. What does ready and ripened mean to me? It is taking pleasure in the tiny inchworm making its way across the picnic table. It is hearing the red squirrels chitter and loving their discourse. It is feeling the livingness of each tiny part and parcel - not needing a full and perfect understanding, but a desire to learn and the knowing it is possible.
I think life opens to us as we open to it.
The feeling that our connection “isn’t happening” or that we need to do something special or performative, is the only real doorkeeper to the greater mysteries. As I have practiced trusting and believing that I am connected already, my focus and expectations have given me a new set of eyes - through which I can see that there was never a locked door to begin with.
More than any other place, Lost Lake has taught me much about how nature is the great mirror of the mind. An echo chamber, where the time between thought, feeling, and external unfolding is rapid and distinct. It has been a long-term teaching; one that I am learning to apply no matter where I am. I think we all must have a place in this world where our sense of self clicks into place with the whole. A special corner of the universe where the wise elders of the oldest atoms and stardust remind us who we are. When our inner peace and self-reflection arise naturally, through the focus on what we love - it seems to me that the beauty of life is infinitely magnified.
To live from that centered place feels like a joyful purpose to me.
Next week, Victor and I will go make our autumn camp at Lost Lake once again. To relax into the fall equinox solar downbeat, to commune with the great, wise trees. To lay belly-down on the evergreen duff and listen to the songs the mushrooms sing. To hear the chanting of the migrating geese and listen to the messages they bring of the seasonal turning. To ride the cusp of what was and what is to come, in the nexus of the now - one breath at a time.
New Moon Blessings to Everyone ~
I will be sending out the quarterly vibrational essence offering for current paid subscribers early this next week! I am honored to share a Birch essence from Lost Lake, cocreated on the fall equinox last year. The deadline for joining the shipment is this upcoming Sunday the 17th - if you would like to upgrade your subscription, you can do so at the link below. The offering includes a 1/2 oz bottle of the essence shipped to you and a written description delivered to your inbox.
Birch Tree ::: Pioneer the Evolution
Wild spring water // bearing the electromagnetic signature of Betula // preserved with WI heirloom organic apple brandy
What you are making is so gorgeous. I love your photography and all the texture in your words. 🌿