Stella LonglandI was born on a farm in Suffolk, England, just after the second world war. I was sent to boarding school at the age of ten. I went as a child willing to please: I left as an angry teenager determined not to conform. The 18th century Hall that housed he school was surrounded by grounds filled with ancient trees. On the rare occasions that we had an hour to spend as we pleased, my friend and I would hide in these trees and feel free. Leaving school, I worked in repertory theatre for a few years before moving north to University in my twenties. I stayed on in north Yorkshire running a business until, in my fifties, I moved to Morayshire in Scotland where I still live and write my books. Big trees always comforted me, and so when the tree-hugging era arrived it certainly did not offend me: I had sat and regained my equilibrium in the shelter of many trees over the years. Even so, my sense of connection to the underlying stream of consciousness that carries me, and all things, had slipped away over time. Drowning in the pressure of modern life, I was no longer aware of the buoyancy of that flow. I felt very alone and desperate. I began to address this, somewhat sceptically and with a multitude of issues about all things spiritual, by joining a spiritual healing group. I was attending a workshop, focused on connecting to spirit guides, when a vision of all the trees vanishing into darkness hit me unexpectedly. It seemed that an apocalyptic catastrophe was imminent; personal or planetary I did not know. That was my mind-blowing introduction to the mystical nature of Trees. Previously my daily life had fascinated me, my me-ness was unique and exciting to explore, interactions with others brought revelations, not always pleasurable, it was painful too, but my interest was focused there. When I dipped my toes into the mystery, those details became less enthralling. For a time I watched other people with amazement, and slight envy, still so in love with their individual self, as I had been, still so intent on their personal story. Now I was an outsider in a different way. After the vision and through my continuing participation in the healing group, I met someone that I knew, in some unfathomable way, could help me. He introduced me to the native american visionary and mystic, Joseph Rael, Beautiful Painted Arrow, whose books and paintings resonate with my experiences. Joseph writes that there are two aspects to reality: 'ordinary reality and extra-ordinary reality'; my present interest is mainly in the extra bit! I support his visions for a peaceful world, and run a couple of websites: www.peacechamber.co.uk; www.somethingdoeshappen.co.uk Read More Read Less