The new day began with shreds of daylight finding their way through the ragged clouds after a night of heavy rain. A cool breeze blew in stuttering bursts through the forest, carrying with it smells of damp earth and vegetation. As the rising sun turned the sky into a kaleidoscope of colour, the calls of exuberant birds overlapped one another in a hundred different melodies.

An old woman opened the door of a hut on the edge of a village surrounded by deep, dark forest. She stood still and silent for a few moments in the doorway, breathing in the cool air and tilting her head upwards with eyes closed so that the sunlight danced on the delicate skin of her eyelids. As she opened her eyes again she smiled a welcoming smile to the world around her before walking calmly forwards. She began an unhurried tour of the garden, moving slowly from plant to plant, stopping next to each one to whisper secret words of encouragement and gently caress their petals. Her very presence sent waves of expectancy quivering up the stems of the plants and down into the roots of the surrounding trees.

The old woman moved with a fluid grace that belied her great age. Her transition from plant to plant became a dance, with every outward gesture connected to her core and every step carrying her unhesitatingly forwards. Her eyes were as bright as twin stars and contained such depths of kindness and wisdom that even her gaze alighting on a leaf carried nourishment. Her voice emerged from the depths of her being, rich and vibrant in tone, able to transform itself from the softest of whispers to the most commanding of speech.

When she had finished her morning ritual, the woman sat down on an old wooden bench that looked as if it had been in the garden for as long as she herself had lived and breathed. She surveyed the garden around her, her focus stretching outwards to the edge of the forest and upwards to the blue sky, still criss-crossed with remnants of cloud. While her gaze could reach only to the limits of physical vision, her inner sight perceived infinitely further. From the seemingly enclosed cocoon of the garden, the old woman could hear snow melting on nearby mountains, smell fronds of seaweed being washed ashore on faraway beaches and feel the fearful joy of a baby being born in a distant village.

The delicately incongruous noise of a twig breaking in the undergrowth at the edge of her garden, an unnoticeable sound to most people’s untuned ears, brought a smile to her face and distant memories flooding into her being.

The old woman shook her head in a moment of near comic disbelief as the memories opened up within her. How long ago had it been that she, the feral girl, had arrived at the edge of this most special of gardens. How afraid had she been as she hid in the undergrowth, like a timid bird, attempting to study the old man before her. How in awe of his eyes, voice, body and very presence had she felt. It was several days before she had the courage to show herself to him and several weeks before she opened up fully to him. Talas had become her teacher, guide and most trusted of friends. He had helped her discover who she really was, what life really was and where to tread next along her path. He had even given her the name which she still carried to this day; Lilanthro.

As she allowed the memories to continue passing through her, Lilanthro remembered how she had first appeared to the villagers with her dance through the heart of the village and her story-filled singing. She remembered with poignant sadness the night of the celebration when she announced her decision to live in the village and realised that it would be Talas’s last night in his home. The following morning she and Talas had tended the garden, sat together in a silence full of emotion and breakfasted in the sunshine of a particularly enchantingly warm day. She did not question him on his decision; she knew it was how Talas wanted it to be and how it was meant to be. Talas’s home was to become her home; his garden, her garden; his life of quiet inner journeying and outer compassionate action, her life.

Tears formed briefly in her eyes as she recalled their parting; the words of love and gratitude, and the all embracing seemingly endless hug, which nevertheless did end. She remembered watching Talas as he disappeared out of the garden into the depths of the undergrowth, just as she had once appeared from it. A few moments of silence followed, during which time the loss inside her felt as if it might engulf her completely, before the sounds of children calling her name heralded the arrival of the villagers at her door and pulled her into the present moment of her new life.

The memories continued to flash by. Lilanthro had become an integral and much loved member of the village, over time as much respected as Talas had once been. Every day she tended her garden and extended this ritual to the gardens of other villagers, taking turns to bestow her blessings on each one. The children of the village sought her out to dance, sing and tell stories. Woven skilfully into these moments of play was the chance for them to explore their emotions and for Lilanthro to teach them about the world around them. The adults sought her out for her knowledge of the forest and over time they came to her for guidance on many other matters. Once in a while, when Lilanthro needed to replenish herself, she slipped quietly away for a few days of solitude in the heart of her beloved forest. But she always returned to the place and people she had grown to love unconditionally.

Lilanthro had met her husband Brahen one fateful day when she and some of the villagers were on a hunting party far from the village. Brahen came from a previously unknown village many miles away, in another valley across a distant mountain pass. He was leading his people on an exploration of new lands. As soon as the two groups met, Lilanthro knew he was special to her. When she saw him, she felt all the separate noisy strands of this world merge into one perfect note, and she felt him respond to her presence in kind.

Lilanthro and Brahen had lived many happy years together. They ventured to the mountains, the valleys, the deepest parts of the forest, the lower lands and even to the ocean. They led their people to new lands, discovered new villages and forged friendships with many new peoples. They explored the depths of love that two humans can share and, when the twins Arlea and Isaco were born, their love as parents knew no boundaries.

Another sound from the undergrowth at the edge of Lilanthro’s garden brought her back to the present. All of those golden years were now long gone; Brahen had died over ten years ago and the twins Arlea and Isaco had ventured bravely out into the world and sailed far away across the ocean. Lilanthro was now a village elder, a wise and respected old sage, whose advice was still sought frequently, although not as frequently as before. The glory days had passed and the local villages had relapsed into regressive times. Lilanthro was at peace with this shift in the human realm. She knew beyond doubt that all was as it should be and that utopia is not meant to exist forever in this world. Across immeasurably long expanses of time she could see the constant play between moments of near-perfection and moments of devastating-fall throughout all human civilisations. She knew that change is necessary for learning and imperfection necessary for growth. It had always been so and would be always be so for as long as human souls needed to live and to learn.

Now, fully engaged in the present moment, the old woman Lilanthro smiled as she felt the presence of the boy hiding in the undergrowth at the edge of her garden. She knew who he was; a quiet, humble boy from a neighbouring village who lived alone with his father now that his mother had died. Lilanthro saw how he struggled to understand the human world just as she had once done and how he struggled to reconcile the pain that he and his father lived through. She also saw the amazing gifts hidden within him. No one else was aware of these gifts, not even the boy himself. But Lilanthro knew that with her guidance he would one day grow up to be a wise, strong and compassionate man, capable of leading the villagers out of the shadows and towards the light once more.

And here he was, drawn to her though he knew not why, yet still too uncertain to approach her openly. He had been visiting her garden for the past week, watching her tend to the plants and feeling comforted by her presence. Lilanthro guessed it may be another week or two before he had the courage to step out of the undergrowth to meet her; but she had no doubt that that day would come. There was no need to rush, she felt no impatience and no judgement towards the boy. He would step forwards when he was ready and, Lilanthro knew, that was the only way that anyone in this world ever grew; when they were ready.

So, she continued to smile to herself and allowed her gaze to drift in his direction for the briefest of moments, knowing he would shiver as he felt her eyes wash over him. Then she continued her day of contemplation and love-infused living.

Before Lilanthro had ever been born, throughout her whole life and far into the distant future, a multi-coloured thread weaves a never-ending tapestry of ever-changing forms. The feral girl, wise woman, Lilanthro had been but a moment of white and golden beauty emerging briefly into glory. Now it would soon be her time to fade, just as it had been Talas’s time before her. But the thread will continue its dance onwards and all will be as it must rightfully be in this world.

An end is always a new beginning; is that not what this imperfectly perfect world teaches us every day?

The following evening a breeze flowed through the village carrying with it a breath of expectation and a flutter of excitement. One by one the village families gathered in the clearing. Some brought food and drink with them, others blankets and pillows, and others still carried musical instruments and strange looking objects. A fire had been lit and its flames sent flickers of light and shadow dancing over the people and surrounding huts.

Lilanthro wandered around the clearing feeling relaxed and at home. She stopped and greeted the families, chatting warmly with each one before moving on to the next. She smiled to herself as she realised that she felt as if she were in Talas’s garden carrying out the morning ritual of tending to the plants. Talas himself was also present, engaged in much the same practice as she. When Lilanthro and Talas met at last in a space between the huddled family groups, they greeted each other as equals whose mutual respect for one another warmed the air around them for all to feel.

Once all the families had arrived, settled themselves on the blankets and shared out the food and drink, the evening began. Onari’s father Enu, who not surprisingly was one of the village leaders, welcomed everyone to the gathering and spoke words of gratitude and gladness for the meal. He thanked the villagers for their generous preparation of the food, he thanked the forest for its bounteous riches of animals and plants, and he thanked the night itself for sharing its wondrous beauty with everyone.

With much talking and laughter the villagers ate their food. Lilanthro and Talas sat together with Enu’s family, enjoying the meal and conversation as much as everyone else. As they ate, Lilanthro became aware of a shift in the feeling of the air and pulsing of the ground. She looked enquiringly at Talas, but he shook his head to indicate that he was not the one creating the magic. Lilanthro continued to eat and listen to the conversation around her, but she also gently sent her inner senses probing outwards into the spaces between people and the silences between words.

An enchantment was taking place which Lilanthro breathed gladly into the core of her being. The ground was full of the presence of people, the air was tingling with the warm words being spoken, the spaces between people were alive and the silences were full of promise. The good will of everyone present was flowing freely out of them, cascading through the space and impacting on every particle of matter around them. Lilanthro could feel a joyousness vibrating in every drop of air and earth. Even the flames of the fire pulsed with renewed vitality. As this exuberance touched lightly upon matter, it was instantly intensified and reflected back. Lilanthro sensed an upward spiralling of energy filling the villagers with waves of happiness and peace. Like drops of rain which become rivers, flow to the sea, evaporate into the sky and fall as rain once more, the energy replenished itself. Lilanthro realised that this was the first time she had experienced such a richly nourishing connection with humans other than Talas. It was so powerful that she felt it unify everyone into one joyful organism pulsing with one heartbeat. She looked at Talas again and smiled with gladness at the decision which she still held inside her.

Once everyone had finished their meal, the music, stories, singing and dancing began. Lilanthro and Talas, along with everyone present, were treated to a magnificent display. Some of the children performed dances inspired by Lilanthro’s first visit to the village. Some of them told stories which were woven into song just as she had done on her second visit. The adults performed a vibrant mixture of storytelling, juggling and music. Laughter, tears, concentration, awe and smiles flowed freely in and out of the audience’s minds and hearts.

Then it was Lilanthro’s turn. She sat in the light of the still flickering fire and told the story of a tiny seed that germinated into a fragile, young plant, which grew slowly but surely into a tall, majestic tree, until it was the tallest and oldest tree in the forest. As it grew it learned to accept the passing of every season and it learned how to be itself without wishing to be something else. It learned that by being itself it could give freely and gladly to others, providing food and shelter for many creatures, and could receive plentiful nourishment in return. It learned how to know its place in the world as well as the place of every other living being in the forest. It learned to feel the connection between it and the other creatures and plants of the forest, the rock and soil beneath its roots and the air and light moving through its branches. It knew that its time on this earth was finite and it also knew that life would continue onwards in an infinitely overflowing dance. It was a simple version of the story which Talas had told Lilanthro on the day they had ventured far into the depths of the forest. When she finished telling it, she looked at Talas, who gave her a knowing and respectful smile.

And then it was the turn of Talas himself. The villagers hushed each other into quiet stillness. Talas had been their guide for many long years. They trusted him, were in awe of him and loved him as a child loves his kindest, wisest grandfather. They wondered what wisdom he may have for them tonight, wrapped up in humour and merriment. Instead, he said only,

“There was once an old, old star shining in the heavens. The star was bright and strong, it burned with love and knew the secrets of existence. Some creatures, who lived on a planet far away, loved this star for it seemed to talk to them in their sleep, whispering stories that helped them live their lives. They were glad of the star and hoped it would never leave them. But, the star was old, and one day it knew its time had come to fade from the sky and travel far away to another place and time. It was sad to leave its place in the heavens but happy to obey the laws of life which told it it must depart. Luckily, its sadness at having to leave the creatures alone was comforted by knowing that a new star had just been born which burned with as much love as it had once down and also held the secrets of existence within it. The old star knew that the new star would continue burning brightly in the sky for many a long year and that the creatures would grow to love it and would one day forget the loss of the old star.” Talas sat back into the shadows as he finished telling his story, leaving an uncertain silence hanging in the air.

Luckily, Enu filled the silence. He thanked everyone for their contributions and at last turned to Lilanthro to ask her the question she had been waiting for all evening. “Lilanthro, we hope you have enjoyed this evening. It is rare that we gather together like this and share so much of ourselves with each other, but I hope from now on it will become a more regular event. We are all so happy that you have become our friend, but we know you have sacrificed another life in order to stay with us and we know you have your own path to follow which may now take you far away from us to distant lands. We would love for you to settle in our village, but we would understand if your visit with us will soon come to an end. We wonder, are you ready to tell us your choice?”

Lilanthro replied, “Whatever I have had to give up to become a part of this village, I have gained threefold from being here with you. I know I could choose to leave and return to my life in the forest or venture onwards to see what lies beyond the most distant mountains. But neither of those choices is the one which I know is my rightful path. So I choose to stay and live my life here with you.”

Instantly, the gathered families erupted into cheers and claps of delight. The children ran to Lilanthro throwing their arms around her and begging her to live with them. The adults waited their turn and then went to her, hugging her warmly and indicating that she could share their home if she so chose.

Lilanthro waited for the excitement to die down and then said, “Thank you all for your generous offers of a home. However, I already have one in mind. You will find me there tomorrow morning. But for now, the night is old and the children are tired. I thank you all for the most wonderful of evenings and I will see you all tomorrow.”

And with that, one by one, the families dispersed and disappeared into the darkness of the night, walking tiredly back to their homes. Lilanthro and Talas were the last to leave. “You are sure of this?” Lilanthro asked Talas with a note of deep sadness in her voice.

Talas nodded silently. “Then I will stay in your garden tonight,” Lilanthro said, “And in the morning we will greet the day, tend to the plants and have breakfast together for one last time before the old star must fade away.”

“Yes,” Talas replied, “I would like that very much.”

And with that they walked together towards the hut and garden on the edge of the village which had been Talas’s beautiful home and sanctuary for many a long year.

TO READ CHAPTER 15 CLICK HERE!

The following days and weeks were a blur of activity for Lilanthro and the villagers. She awoke that first morning and, after having breakfast with Silja’s family, went to visit Onari. He was full of energy and excitement. He asked her many questions about the forest and her life there. He also told her many tales about himself and took great pride in showing her his home and all the things in it which he or his father had made. She ate lunch with the family, who were inquisitive about her life and keen to share their own stories with her. Conversation flowed backwards and forwards, as easy and reciprocal as waves surging in and out upon a beach of warm, golden sand.

This exchange of questions, curiosity and friendship was repeated many times over as Lilanthro made her way around the village visiting all the families and staying each night in a different bed with a different host family. Everyone was energised by the new village guest. Everyone was keen to show their willingness to be her friend and to display the brightest aspects of their characters to her. Lilanthro felt her love for each villager slowly growing. In her previous secret studies of them she had seen both their bright sides and their dark shadow selves. She had witnessed how their veils of anger, jealousy, fear, greed or sadness often tightened around them to hide their compassionate, loving hearts both from themselves and others. But now, just as falling in love can open the heart and dispel the shadows for a grace-given while, so Lilanthro’s presence amongst the villagers lit little candles in their souls which freed them from their shackling veils.

Lilanthro knew this could only be a temporary effect, soon their beings would contract again and the veils would return once more to wrap around their hearts. But she delighted in seeing the true nature of each villager and she had faith in the process which was occurring. She knew that some of the villagers would rejoice and make the most of this period of grace, being already aware of the true nature of their beings. Others would feel curiously invigorated and notice for the first time the veils which clung to their hearts, so beginning the journey of dancing with them. Others still would not yet be ready to make that leap, and after a few days or weeks of this heightened state would relapse back into their world of anger or guilt or other such thoughts or emotions. But still, Lilanthro knew, one day they would be ready and then their eyes would start to open and their hearts begin to shine. Everyone was on the path, they were just at different places along it.

One night after her first week of visiting the village families, Lilanthro lay sleeping and dreaming. She dreamed of paths criss-crossing a wide land of mountains, forests, valleys and rivers. She was following her path, not knowing exactly where it was leading but trusting that the direction was true and enjoying every moment of being in the changing landscapes. Other people were on other paths all around her. Some shared her path with her for a while and then branched off in other directions. Some overtook her and disappeared from view ahead. Some walked slowly so that she overtook them. She conversed with some of the people, others ignored her completely. Those who overtook her sometimes encouraged her to travel onwards with them, but she was not ready for their pace so she stayed where she was. When she overtook anyone who was looking tired from the journey, she would slow down to walk and talk with them, but eventually she would return to her own pace and they would either quicken their steps to continue with her further, veer off onto another path or drop behind. Some she kept meeting at different points along the path, and they became welcome friends who she would walk with for long distances, part from, and then meet again at some other unexpected turn in the path. There were others still who she could see standing on far distant mountain peaks surveying the land around. She could tell they could see farther than her and they inspired her to continue her journey so that one day she too could stand on that distant peak and survey the land anew.

One night after her second week of visiting the village families, Lilanthro lay in bed in a reflective mood. “Everyone contains a light at their core,” she mused to herself, “We were all born out of that, so how could it be otherwise? But, as Talas said, when we are born here we forget what we are and we spend the rest of our lives trying to remember. Unlike the tree which grows with utter certainty as to its place in this world, we develop layers of uncertainty which prevent us seeing ourselves, others and life clearly. How strange it is that we go about our days thinking we are awake, when really we have fallen asleep! How long and winding and challenging is the path to waking up again. And how different each person’s path. I am lucky that my life has given me such encouragement to feel the true nature of things; I have learnt to become me and also to let go of me. I hope my days forward will be long so that I can continue my learning and share the journey with others.”

One night after her third week of visiting the villagers, Lilanthro lay in bed in the home of the last family in the village. She was restless, wondering to herself what might happen from here. Should she stay and live the rest of her life amongst her new family? Should she venture onwards to other new worlds to meet whatever animals, humans or other beings might exist there? Or should she return to her forest home, taking her learning with her but once again becoming a hermit, far from human contact?

The very morning that she awoke with these questions still hanging in her mind, Onari’s father approached her as she wandered comfortably down the now familiar village path. “Tonight we will hold a celebration,” he told her, “A celebration of all that is special here in our village and a celebration that you have come to share it with us. I hope you will be happy to join us…?”

“Of course,” replied Lilanthro, “How could I miss it? You have all shown me such kindness, I would love to share an evening of celebration with you.”

That afternoon Lilanthro went to visit Talas in his garden. He welcomed her with an all embracing smile and invited her to sit with him. “So have you decided young Lilanthro?” He asked her.

“Decided what?” She replied, blushing as she realised he knew exactly what was on her mind.

“Will it be your choice to live your life amongst this small world of humans, with their beauty and their ugliness, their joy and their pains, and your own veils of thoughts and emotions? Will you decide to leave them behind in search of new wonders, imagining you have learnt all you can here and yearning for other adventures to pursue? Or will you return to your life as a feral girl, where your sense of oneness to the world around you is true and clear, and where you will forget about the complex dance of being human and the mysterious connections that can grow between people?”

“Well, my happiness can be greater in the forest, away from all the strife of the human world.” Lilanthro replied. “But the oneness which I feel there is like a child’s experience of life. I think it is our purpose to learn the lessons of being human; to fall asleep and then to attempt to reawaken and become conscious of ourselves. Returning to the forest might be blissful at times but it might also be like running away from school. And besides, I think I might feel lonely now that I have come to enjoy human company. I certainly do feel a tug of wanting to leave here and be free again; free to wander on to new lands and discover what other marvels exist in this world, free to be constantly stimulated by meeting new people. But I also sense how easy it could be to always travel onwards, to always think something greater exists beyond the present place. And I know that this is not necessarily true freedom. If I stay here it would at times be exciting and at times dull. I have made friends here and I have learnt so much. But whether my love for the villagers would grow day by day or dull down to mere fondness, and whether my learning would continue or whether I would be lulled into sleepiness once more by the day to day-ness of life, I am not sure…” She paused with uncertainty for a moment.

“There are many possible outcomes, whichever choice you make and not all of them are within your control.” Talas said. “But, remember the young tree that grew patiently older; it always knew its destiny was to be a tree, it never tried to become anything else. I have no doubt that you know enough about who you are to make this decision and choose a life that is most truly a Lilanthro shaped form on the tapestry.”

“Yes,” Lilanthro replied with a smile, as the clouds of uncertainty passed and the sun shone once more, “I have made my choice. I will tell the villagers tonight.” And she gazed out over Talas’s garden to the edge of the enticingly dark forest.

TO READ CHAPTER 14 CLICK HERE!