“The strongest oak of the forest is not the one that is protected from the storm and hidden from the sun. It’s the one that stands in the open where it is compelled to struggle for existence against the winds and rains and the scorching sun.” – Napoleon Hill
Druids ate acorns because they believed it helped them prophesize. The Celts and Nordics believed that acorns symbolized immortality, fertility and the tree of life. Mighty Oaks come from a simply struggling acorn. We women know what it is to struggle and, my goddess, we are heroines of our own story.
Here we are, against many odds, surviving, overcoming and thriving. Yes, we have lost some of our branches, our leaves, and might be leaning a bit, but here we are. We are who we are because we defied many odds, weathered many storms, rose above the flames of lvies that were in many many storms. Here we are. We ARE mighty. We are admirable. We are ourselves and that matters.
We are great survivors. We are great overcomers. We are great thrivers. We have so much possibility within us. Everyone of us has had to walk the walk and talk the talk that cried in wildernesses, that cried in our homes, whose hearts were totally torn asunder. Here we are. Great possibilities.
We are symbols of hope, of courage, of tenacity. We have been bent willows drooping into rivers of tears and learned to upright ourselves come beautiful warm sun. We cast off our hardened shells; slough off our old ideas and the chaff that life left clinging to us. We let go of what no longer serves us. Our soul remembers the mother’s great limbs and shadows and lacy leaves that rose, like spirit, towards the great above. We remember.
Our maternal ancestors danced around the mighty oak in hope, in prayer, in adoration of who came before us, what we are made of and what we have potential for. They are still with us, laughing and loving and dancing at who we have become. We have become the answer to their prayers. Oh, we so matter.
©Carol Desjarlais 9.5.21
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