The secret forest - Ralitsa Lachezarova Potter (dark books to read .TXT) 📗

Believing that oftentimes others can be inspired by a shared spiritual knowledge, I will attempt to describe to you, dear friend, a magical experience I have had in my life...
I bet you can remember a challenging time in your life when you were standing at a spiritual crossroads - perhaps tangled into a dangerous love net, battling some tricky disease, or making a chain of mistakes. It can feel like there is no guidebook for such things, no therapist who can answer all our questions or provide our need for guidance, no fast-working remedy to help you out. I wish I knew you then, to offer you something which is free of charge, completely priceless, and always available... Do you know that there is a world of miraculous places, which actually surrounds us?
It is exactly this notion which provoked me to begin my quest for just such a place, in search of celestial assistance, because I - like every one of you - need a little guiding light every once in a while.
Each country is gifted with sacred destinations where veiled legends or worshiping places bring thousands of people from all over. Being motivated from their beliefs in pilgrimage they undertake searching for heavenly roots that could create a unique spiritual picture which lasts forever. And the promise of something more, even: witnessing inexplicable events and experiencing strange coincidences which could be your wake up call for reuniting with your real self.
When I was about to turn 24 and was swirling in the usual black hole accompanying my birthday's celebration, I decided to take a plunge and undertake something extraordinary. I made up my mind to visit the "Bulgarian Jerusalem," as people call The Forest Of The Cross - a picturesque place located deeply in the heart of the Rodopa Mountains, in the little-sought back ends of my country, Bulgaria. I had been reading a lot of fascinating accounts of the desperate, sick and dying traveling there to pray, and receive a celestial deliverance or special blessing. It has been said at this place that the mute start speaking, the crippled begin to walk again and the blind recover their eyesight. The legend connected with this miraculous place gave me goose-bumps, and I felt an urge to visit this mystical spot, where travelers say each stone is marked by a large, engraved cross.
According the legend in 312 A.D., the warriors of the emperor Constantine The Great were outnumbered by the enemy forces of Maxentius. Fearing for his armies, sensing impending doom, and anticipating the imminent loss of the crucial battle, Constantine prayed to God for help. At sunset, he saw a cross in the skies with an inscription saying, "By this sign you shall conquer." That night when the emperor fell asleep, God appeared in his dream and bade him to make a banner portraying the cross on it. He was also to draw crosses on the helmets and shields of his soldiers. Constantine did so (and hence the symbols we know now in the modern world of the crusaders and their banners and symbols of a red cross). Thereafter, having fulfilled the wishes of the Almighty, Constantine the Great defeated the tyrant, his enemy, and later entered Rome victoriously. Several years later, in 326 A.D., Queen Helena, mother of Constantine The Great, visited the holy lands of Palestine. According to the legends surrounding her life, she found the Holy Cross on which Christ was crucified, and a temple was erected at Golgotha in praise of Jesus.
By 614 A.D., the Persians had invaded the Byzantine Empire and conquered Jerusalem, razed the church and stole the Holy Cross. Fourteen years later, Emperor Iraclius solemnly returned the Cross to Jerusalem. It is now believed that a tiny particle of the cross can still be found hidden in Krastova Gora -a place near Assenovgrad, about 100 km from Sofia. The crucifix was preserved in the St. Trinity monastery until the 17th century, when the Turks destroyed the monastery and converted the locals to Islam. However, three monks were brave enough to hide the relic - this small piece of the Cross - in one of the caves nearby. It has not yet been found. A cross, weighing 66 kilograms was commissioned by Tsar Boris III in a St. Petersburg foundry as a token of gratitude for his sister Princess Evdokia's miraculous healing after a visit to the "Bulgarian Jerusalem," as some people call Krastova Gora, The "Forest of the Cross".
So, feeling deeply inspired by all these documented stories and wonders, I made up my mind that I needed to see it for myself, so that I might one day tell the story to my grandchildren.
After connecting with the tour guide, I joined a group of retirees seeking to travel to exotic locales, and was given instructions for the long journey ahead. It was a bit sad that other young people weren't as interested in this place and that none of my friends wished to join me on on my trip, but I was so enthusiastic that the age of my traveling companions didn't matter to me. As I was eagerly awaiting our arrival at the sacred place, the trip felt like days instead of a couple of hours before we finally reached the spot.
It was the beginning of the summer and the weather was wonderful. Under the blissful sunshine, trees, and cool breezes, the insects and birds were welcoming us in a jubilant chorus celebrating their forest kingdom. On such days, it is easy to feel that something special is floating in the air and you are able to see divine signs in everything. After we got off the bus, the most dedicated believers started crossing themselves with their fingers, following the Orthodox Christian custom. For them, this was a great honor to be in such a holy place. Some of them were disabled and walking with great difficulty, but their eyes were full of expectation for some miracle. The group scattered around; everyone following his or her own agenda, seeking release from their inner worlds of devotion, pain and hopelessness. First my attention was captured by the sight of 12 little chapels bearing the names of the 12 disciples of Jesus. These chapels were arranged all the way up the hill, leading to the Cross. As a painter myself, I would say that the chapels and the images featured thereon were made from totally dedicated artists. The depicted images of the saints were so real and so spiritual, that tears started streaming down my face...
Nowadays we are used to hearing that we don't need mediators in our personal connection to The Higher Power, symbolized by different names in different religions, but there are images archetypes of our belief of perfection and they are recharged with the enormous faith of their creators - the artists.
On my way between the chapels I saw couples heading to touch The Cross, murmuring their prayers, holding hands with closed eyes. Many families believe that in that magical spot, fertility issues could be solved after a heartfelt prayer. I even talked to one of the couples - they were coming back again with their little offspring, and were lighting candles for others who were praying for a child...
When I reached the monumental cross, I was confused by the people who were hanging up their clothes on it, following the belief that wearing them later will cure any ailments. So there were piles of different shirts, trousers, towels and baby outfits, which made me somber and full of compassion for all these desperate souls. Then I remembered why peacocks have such beautiful feathers - they feed on thistles and extract from them all the amazing colors. Maybe that's why hardships and obstacles come to us in life - to make us magnificent... if only we assimilate them properly.
Wandering around, I found a twisted narrow path which lead to few little springs where the water was dripping instead of running, but people were patiently and humbly waiting to touch the sacred stream. Legend says that the blind can recover their sight if they wash the eyes with only a handful of the miraculous liquid, so believers were filling up their bottles with the precious drops. After exploring for many hours in this unique place, I needed some moments of rest, and time for self-contemplation. I found a peaceful meadow on my way and decided to lay down over the grass like a little girl who runs away from the family lunch and is enjoying her freedom. I distinctly remember the moment when I was staring at the sky above, not hearing the voices of the arriving pilgrims, completely open-hearten in my wish to feel God's grace. You can imagine my astonishment when I sat up and looked down between the embroidery of daisies around me, as I spotted a large four leaf clover! The lucky charm I had been searching for since my childhood! I was so stunned that I couldn't believe in my eyes. I jumped up in joy like a little kid and exclaimed "Thank you God"! The strange coincidences continued later when darkness came, and people were lighting the area with candles. During the night liturgy, one nocturnal butterfly perched on my right arm (where I had serious aches years ago) and stayed on this place for half of the mass. No, the little creature didn't start talking to me, just fulfilled his mission - which I was to understand later...
For the first time I slept overnight outside, under the open sky. The stars were so inspirational - twinkling and following their cosmic rhythm. In front of my eyes, like a movie screen, I saw all the pictures from the day, so I had very vivid dreams. More of the other travelers found shelter inside of the 12 chapels, or in their cars and vans and I bet they had remembering visions too.
The next day when I got home after taking a shower I noticed my arm had become red and warm. I started wondering what was happening - I couldn't remember bruising or it hurting it recently. Eventually I realized that something was missing that I had been living with for many years - the painful feeling from lifting up my arm had completely disappeared! The butterfly had made her magic over my aching arm.
I felt a kind of rebirth inside of me, my body was completely relaxed and full of energy no matter of the sleepless night and long traveling. Go figure!
Ten years latter my destiny brought me to America, the land of endless opportunities, the enjoyment of abundance and a roller coaster way of life. Something more- here people are quite liberal and express the confidence of being part of privileged nation. For most USA citizens in this land of Columbus and Native Indians, history is not much older than 200 years. Perhaps that's why Americans are quite cosmopolitan, young spirited and pretty colorful.
I am married, running after my playful toddler who is showing me how bringing up a child could be part of the journey of traveling towards your unknown self - your hidden fears, agendas and idiosyncrasies. The same rule counts for matrimonial life - your other half challenging you on the daily basis to reach