The Origins of Sophie's Heart Labyrinth

 Past Life Regressions are fascinating and can often turn up nuggets of wisdom. Sometimes they lead to healing. Sometimes they lead to sharing that method of healing.  That is the case with Sophie's Heart.

An apple tree is a wonderful magical place to hide, to tell stories, to flee what adults want you to do.  A seven year old can disappear into it’s branches easily.  Sophie had left her new tabard near the wall of the orchard buried under some branches.  She was a bit chill in only her shift and she sometimes could feel the spring bees’ wings against her arms and legs.  The blossoms smelled so delicious and sweet.  The humming of the bees lulled her to slumber. Her dreams were far away from the wedding in the Great Hall.  Imagine your groom being an Ax held by an smelly, ancient man. Well, at only seven Sophie knew it would be years and years before her real groom, the Lord of a coastal manor, would come to collect her.  Meanwhile she was able to flee the celebration after a ceremonial drink of wine and a light plate of food. 
Her skin was goose bumped when she awoke to a sound below her.  A hum that replaced the bees’.  It turned to a soft song. It seemed to go back and forth and around on itself.  Peeking down she saw a young man dropping what appeared to be seeds in a pattern under her favorite tree singing as he went. She leaned out further knocking some petals down on him.  He sang louder but didn’t stop until the pattern seemed complete.  He then went back over the pattern with some dirt from a second bag he carried.  By the time  he was done, Sophie was shivering violently.  He looked up into her eyes and held out his arms.  She came down into them to be wrapped in his cloak.  This was Daffyd, a traveller from Wales.  Not tall, kind of square of shoulder, in general, brown - brown eyes, brown hair, very tanned skin from living on the road.  He laughed.  And so their friendship began.  Yes, just friends.  After all he was but 14 and she but 7. 

Bear with the story, good people, although I know it seems long.  Not too long after Daffyd and Sophie met at her Ax Wedding, the Anarchy began.  King Stephen and the Empress Matilda both wanted to rule England.  In general the Southwest was for Matilda and the Southeast was for Stephen but the war went back and forth many times.  Some people changed sides and then back again.  The year that would have seen Sophie married to her Lord for real came and went without him coming. The war was close then and the men were off fighting.  Then after more years word came that her Lord had fallen dead. She was now the heiress of a Manor on the Coast to her father’s delight. Her sister had been married off and already had children.  Life seemed quite good.  But then another Lord was found for her.  This time she refused. How could her father marry her off again to another old ugly man? But another Ax Marriage took place with Sophie desperately searching for ways of getting out the this marriage.  After all she had her own wealth now.  She didn’t need to bring more land to her father.If that man touched her, she would kill him. Her heart was dark and the darkness sank into her soul.
Daffyd meanwhile showed up occasionally all through the war.  Their friendship solidified and strengthened.  Sophie asked her friend if he knew plants that would kill?  She was surprised at his reaction.  They often talked of plants and trees and what they could do. He had grown into a Healer.  Ready to settle down back in Wales. Why would he not help her escape her fate? She was determined, on hearing her new Lord was arriving at the manor, to kill him no matter what. Daffyd would have nothing to do with that.  When he left he asked her to come, but she refused out of anger at his not helping her. She didn’t see that he had offered her the escape she craved.  He had offered her the world.
Two days later her new Lord arrived. It was to be a quick celebration for the war was back in the neighborhood and her Lord needed to get back to his troops.  Sophie was ready.  The ground up dried mushroom in a handkerchief awaiting the first opportunity. It came soon Her hand hovered over the cup.  Hatred of her father and her new Lord, of the times that dictated such things could happen seethed in her heart. She stirred the dark liquid to take to her new husband.
On her plate a bundle of herbs appeared. She hadn’t noticed them before. Their scent was heavenly. It distracted her thoughts so much she forgot she was going to give the poisoned cup to her husband. It slid from her hand spilling on the floor. The orchard with the wildflower labyrinth Daffyd had created called her. She begged to be excused to clean up her dress. In her room she suddenly knew what she had to do.  She gathered a bag of clothes and a few precious things her mother gifted her.  Then she slipped out to the stables taking her sturdy pony and went to the orchard. Under their tree, she found the labyrinth. She remembered him putting a rolled up skin within the now ancient tree.  A map.  She followed it even riding at night though it was so dangerous to be out.  In three days she came to a valley in Wales.  It was beautifully green and at the Southeastern edge there was a large labyrinth made of herbs and an apple tree in the center.  That is where she found Daffyd.  It was Wales.  English laws didn’t apply.  Well, you know the rest.

My Tree of Life

I love the winter holidays.  Oh, not the crazy commercialism, the endless religious songs, or the seriousness of Spirit that underlies the Christian holiday for me. Everyone tries so hard to be compassionate and kind especially to those who have less financial success than oneself.  They mean it.  They really do.  Someday it may actually last more than the season, too.  I hope so. But I love the connection with the earth and sky in the winter solstice.  I love that little humming thrum from the earth that is always in my spine and skull even though She seems to be asleep.  I love the brightness of the stars and moon that reveal the Otherworld to me.

I love the tree.  Not the Christmas tree but the Tree of Life - the Evergreen. 
I spend a great deal of time putting up and decorating my tree.  It’s the center of my holiday.  Over time I’ve chosen each ornament for it’s meaning to me.  Each one carefully thought about not just in the buying of it but all through the season. 

The Star, of course, is the symbol of the Light that guides me always.  Each little bird is a flight of hope and freedom. The fruits - pear, apple and pomegranate - symbolize abundance and the sweetness of life.I think they also mean sharing in the sense of sharing bread with guests.

Some of the ornaments are purely family or cultural tradition like the pickle and the oldest and plainest one that came to me from my grandparents.  They initiated me into my glass ornament passion. 
Then there’s the tarnished angels sitting in the lower branches - fallen.  They remind me that I still have many things to work upon.  I still have trouble giving up grudges and forgiving in particular.  They used to sparkle silver in the sun.  My Christian friend was so pleased that I accepted them.  I used to shine them up every year just for her.  Over the years our friendship lessened, the miles increased and the angels tarnished as silver will do.  I find I like them much better like that.  More like me.  They remind me I shine up pretty well. 

The cat ornaments are for friendship and love, for independence and freedom.  Cats have always been all those things for me and more. The ornaments remind me of all the kittens I’ve held, cuddled and found home for.  The cats give me life purpose in the times that I’ve thought I wasn’t worth anything.

That little colorful burro isn’t Mary’s ride to Bethlehem.  He symbolizes stubbornness and tenacity to keep going.  He also stands for patience.  My road has been winding turning back on itself often and very rarely clear to me.

There are quite a few Santa Claus images on the tree.  Who doesn’t love Santa?  Whether he is St. Nicolas who gives toys or Nast’s jolly elf,  how can one not enjoy him.  I can’t resist a guy in red, fur trimmed underwear with a belly that jiggles like a bowlful of jelly. 

This year a clever fox joined the crew.  He’s smart.  He thinks a lot and knows how to maneuver through all sorts of situations. 

Also this year a chubby Zen snowman mediates on one branch of my tree.  A reminder to stay mindful in the moment  and to find those parts of me that aren’t always so conspicuous in me.  Winter is a good time to go within and do that inner work that is so easy to put aside in the business of the warmer months.

The pine cone is naturally for the continuance of life.

The turtle is for endurance and strength.  You can build a whole world on the shell of the turtle, you know, according to some creation myths. 

There are bells for the joy of living  and a funny owl or two for wisdom and guidance especially now in my new home next door to the Barred Owl family.

There are places saved just for fun ornaments also.  Ones that make me laugh or remind me of a friend or two.  The ornate but empty birdcage, the nutcrackers standing so stiff and seriously,  the red rose of beauty and love.

The lights symbolize my desperate need for Light through the Solstice.  It’s so dark for so long up here in the north country.  My soul cries for it to come back,  I keep the lights on all through the season.  I can’t bear to turn them off.  But from the Solstice on the Lights become the heart of hopeful Spring resurrecting the Sun and warmth to come.  Each minute added to each day offers a little nudge to awaken and create.

For now though I’m just sitting here on the couch in the middle of the night with the kitties on my feet and lap enjoying my tree of my life.