When Cedars Whisper to the Soul: Trust Yourself

In my yard stand seven great cedar trees. Ancient, rooted, watchful. I call them the Guardians. Their presence anchors the energy of my home. Their deep roots woven underground, silent branches reaching toward the sky.

One morning, I sat with the oldest among them, the Grandmother. I had been searching for a teacher to guide me on my new path, still uncertain and yearning for direction. In the stillness of meditation, I heard her voice. It was firm, yet loving:

“You need not a teacher. Stop seeking outside yourself for truth. All that you need is within. Seek knowledge and truth from within.”

That was the first lesson the cedars gave me: Trust yourself.

Later, another cedar stepped forward as teacher: a small sapling I had nurtured from seed. On a day when obstacles overwhelmed me, when my tears felt heavier than my body could carry, my husband gently reminded me: “Go meditate.”

So I sat with Cedar. At first, I resisted. But as I settled, the message came clear:

A seedling must use all of its energy to break free from its casing before it can root. Only once the roots have taken hold can it stretch toward the light. The obstacles are not in your way, they are shaping you. Slow and steady. Be patient. Be gentle. Grow strong.

That was the second lesson the cedars gave me: Endurance is born from resistance.

Then there were the cedars of Mount Rainier. When I trained alone for Mount Kilimanjaro, my steps carried me through endless trails among the cedars of Mount Rainier. Those hikes were long and hard. Tears often fell as the weight of loneliness and doubt pressed down on me.

Always, the cedars were there. I would place my hands against their bark, and it was as if they breathed with me. Their strength flowed into my body, their quiet companionship reminding me that I was never truly alone. Each release of grief became a clearing; each clearing made space for new strength.

That was the third lesson the cedars gave me: You are held. Even in solitude, you are never alone.

On the morning I began my ascent of Mount Kilimanjaro, I was anxious, homesick, and uncertain. Then, as if to greet me, the landscape shifted. There were lush, moss-draped evergreens that rose up from the feet of the sacred mountain before me. They resembled my beloved cedars at home. Their boughs seemed to open in welcome, and in that moment I remembered: I carry their strength within me.

That was the fourth lesson the cedars gave me: Home is not a place. It is what you embody.

The cedar speaks in many voices:

• Trust yourself.

• Grow through resistance.

• You are never alone.

• Carry your roots and strength wherever you go.

If you ever feel lost, sit with a tree. Breathe with it. Feel its patience, its rootedness, its quiet power. The cedar teaches us to stand tall yet flexible, to reach for the light while remaining deeply grounded, to weather storms without losing our essence.

The Guardians in my yard whisper to my soul every day: To be cedar is to be strong, patient, enduring, and true. That energy is not only theirs, it lives in each of us, waiting to be remembered.

Much Love,

~Shai