Twin Flower

The boreal forest is vast and reaching, spruce and aspen stretching onto the horizon towards the oceans, like the seabirds reaching for shore. The feeling of this forest sits inside me like a childhood memory, just out of reach, much like a story that's been woven together from scents or a photograph you once found buried in your parents' basement. It’s pulled out from me deeply seeded feelings of fear, joy, loss and wonder. We are allowed to feel it all in there. Allowed to be quiet. Allowed to dance to all the songs we were never able to write the notes to. Allowed to reflect on the simplicity of air in mouth, tree in lung- or the complexities of the roads of grief.

Walking along its thickly mossed floor, feeling the colours of the north, I see that the forest is in constant communication with us. Each plant, tree and fungi ready to give information. The black spruce spoke of resilience and shelter. The wild roses mentioned something about hope, while always asking to cut the ribbon to summer. The morels reminded me what it feels like to find treasure through the eyes of a summer child. The birch is no different, bursting at the seams to quench our thirst for forest water and knowledge. Every plant, holding its information, offering it to whomever listens. Sage, asters, yarrow, arnica. Their eyes wide and petals full of words. 

All of these teachers in the forest have captivated me, at one time or another but there is one plant that calls out to me again and again. It keeps me in constant search for its costume of evergreen leaves and delicate stem holding two silent pink and white bells. The twin flower reaches for me, just like those seabirds reach for shore. It speaks about duality: sun vs moon, loss vs growth, love vs fear. It talked to me about the forest as a mirror, how being in the presence of this forest will reveal to us exactly what we are ready to know at that time. It told me about connection, how its okay to find our soulmates over and over again-every season if needed. The twin flowers’ message is constantly changing so each year I seek it out, curious to feel the different tones in those silent bells.

The boreal forest is dichotomous, not unlike the twin flower, not unlike ourselves. Together we are delicate and hearty, surviving harsh winters under moonlit snowdrifts, silently dreaming of perpetual sunrise. We all float through cycles of death and beauty, frozen then blooming, stagnant then moving. It happens, like the twin flower, in pairs. So where are you now? Which path are you choosing? If you're not sure, its okay. Its okay, keep going. Look deep to the heart of the forest. Trust in its knowing.