Marla Bosworth is the founder and owner of Back Porch Soap Company. She is a modern alchemist, shamanic practitioner, soul coach and Reiki master. She travels worldwide, teaching conscious beauty experiential workshops that combine making soap and herbal skincare with alchemy and energetics. Marla speaks at conferences and events across the U.S. She currently resides in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

February 14, 2018

Part 2: Arriving Through the Experience of Blue Spruce Wisdom

Today I met a sweet, kind arborist. I was back at the Blue Spruce that I wrote about earlier last week. I needed to collect some of its branches for an exciting collaboration that I will announce within a day or two that Blue Spruce initiated.
"Gather my needles, my resin, my branches, my sawdust..."
I heard a truck engine. I really didn’t want to be bothered. A gentleman drove by and then pulled over to the side of the road, then slowly started backing up.
I looked his way and he jumped out of his truck. “Need a hand?” he said.
All I had was a pair of small shears and I was trying to gather a trunk full of spruce boughs. I must have looked like I needed help.
As an intuitive, I've always been able to connect to trees. Anyone can do this.
It begins with what is known as esthesis, a connection between you and any living organism.
“Oh thank you, that would be great,” I replied. A year ago I probably would have shrugged him off and said no. It was a bit foreign to me to allow someone to help me when I probably could have managed it, and I noticed that about myself as he smiled kindly. It can feel vulnerable to allow someone to help. So I let myself feel vulnerable. 
He walked up and I noticed he had a curved pruning saw and was ready to jump in the snowbank to retrieve these branches that are worth gold to me.
“How many do you need?” he asked. I paused because I really wanted to say the entire tree. “A couple of pounds would be plenty for now,” I answered. He carefully selected the best branches. I mean he treated this tree friend of mine like it were his friend too.
“Were you the one to cut it down?” I inquired.
“Who me? Nah,” he said, wielding the saw like a piano player mastering black and white keys. “I’m an arborist and do work around here. You know,” he said thoughtfully, “this is a Blue Spruce.”
“I know,” I said, astounded that not only did someone appear out of nowhere, but he seemed as equally excited to talk about trees.
“You can’t just go by the needles because you can mistake these for Engelmann Spruce. You really need to take a look at the cones.”
Are you open to allowing nature to lead you into deep spiritual connection and teachings?
This was the conversation I have literally been wanting to have with someone. This guy was speaking my language. If he only knew, I spent hours on the internet identifying the bark, comparing needles, cones and considering the riverbed forest location in which it grew. I had been wanting an expert to validate my research and here he was on this less-traveled road right in front of me. This was no coincidence. I wanted to burst out laughing because it was ridiculously perfect!
Behind the scenes, Blue Spruce was less impressed with me and asking if I actually didn’t think it was capable of creating scenarios like this one. No, no, I know you can, I told it, having an aloud conversation with the man and an energetic conversation with the tree.
We loaded the boughs into my car before he asked what I was going to do with it. Can you imagine? Like it was normal to him that I was out here spending time with a fallen tree.
When I told him that I’m an alchemist and that I am turning the tree into incense and essences his face lit up.
“Well after Blue Spruce you have to try Subalpine Fir. It’s my favorite. You’ll have to go up to a higher elevation to get to it. But its aroma...” he faded into an aromatic memory. “The sap comes out of the bark in the spring like bubbles and it’s just incredible.”
His pure joy about the sap made me laugh out loud. I nodded in agreement and told him I would seek out one of his firs.
I thanked him again and we shook hands, sharing names. He drove away and I looked back at my tree friend.
“You are quite magical, aren’t you?”, I asked aloud. The energy swirled in the air. Raven flew overhead and its call echoed in the forest. A nearby cottonwood leaned in the breeze and gave a loud, slow creak.




February 13, 2018

Part 1: An Introduction to Tree Elder Colorado Blue Spruce (Picea pungens)

Colorado Blue Spruce. Fallen during wind storm in Jackson Hole, Wyoming
I placed the palm of my hand against your tree rings, hoping to feel a heartbeat. Your spirit is still alive. You bleed fresh, flowing resin onto my hand, as if to say hello. Did they cut you today?

Share with me the magic of your Snake River forest bed. The beauty of what you witnessed here brings a tear to my eye. How deeply you love this land!
🐇
I count your rings, a total of 80 rings. Some years were better than others, you said. Abundant snowfall and rain helped you grow stronger and wider. Your narrow rings were from the drier years.

Like a scrapbook, so many memories and stories to tell in these rings.


I count backwards from your bark inward, looking for the connection of your rings when I was a young girl growing up here. Right here, about 1976. I ran my finger over this ring feeling the memories of that year in your trunk. What about 1982, counting four rings more. Yes, I remember that special year, I whispered softly.
🐿
I imagined the man who cut you and hope he felt a connection too. The winds had been gusting to 50 mph and somehow you toppled, blocking this little-traveled forest road. You look so strong and healthy, I couldn’t find your breaking point, only where he sawed you in half. You must have been 100 feet tall. I bet you had amazing 360 views of our beloved valley.
Keep my spirit alive. Gather my resin, needles and bark. 

I honor you, I said. I honor your life of providing shelter and shade to bear, elk, deer, eagle and hawk. Yes and mountain lion, moose, fox, owl, ermine and countless birds, you reminded me.
🦌
Thank you for honoring my wisdom, my place in the forest, you said. Go ahead, keep my memory alive. Take my resin, my sawdust shavings, my pine cones and bark. Gather up as much as you can and turn me into precious incense. Tincture what you can and turn me into a beautiful essence. Celebrate me.

I have gathered you, sacred tree. Come with me. I will keep your spirit alive and we will create magic together.

More to be shared....
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