Cairns are something I saw a lot of while living in Colorado, especially on hikes in Rocky Mountain National Park, when above treeline. They mark the way when the trail disappears over solid rock surfaces. They also mark the tops of summits.
To me, cairns are a comforting symbol that let us know that we’re on the right track, that we’ve come to the right place, and that whoever came before us wants to help guide us.
Yesterday, while hiking in the national forest near our home (in North Carolina), my mate and I found three cairns along a mountain stream. They weren’t marking a trail, but were placed, seemingly magically, along and even in the stream bed.
Three, as you know from fairy tales, is a magic number. It means that something is about to happen. Take three wishes, for example. The initiate is given three wishes and this determines their fate. 
In Jungian thought, threes symbolize transformation. So whenever I see three of something, or get three nudges from the universe that I need to go in another direction, I know something’s going on in a powerful way.
We have also created three cairns at our home, marking the path to our door. We want anyone who visits to know that they’ve come to the right place. The trail, at least for a little while, is this way. Beyond the third cairn, marks the beginning of hospitality. Peace to all who enter here, says the small symbol next to our door.
The stories that we create and share are like cairns. They are like markers we leave behind that show other people the shape that our journeys have taken. Stories, to me, whether they are fiction, nonfiction or somewhere in-between, are sacred beings. They are our way of communicating with our current tribe, our descendants and also our imagination, intuition and spirit, the collective around us.
So if given three wishes, one of them that I offer is this:
May we all find our creative journey with ease and leave markers along the way for those who follow to make their journey a little easier.
And so it is.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Wow! You learn something every day. I had no idea what those were called. Thanks.
Oh, but I must disagree on your three wishes. I think one should find one’s creative journey with lots of searching and some anguish. Beethoven didn’t create the “Eroica” with ease. Hummel and Weber and Pleyel created their works with ease and they’re footnotes today, the works pretty but completely forgettable. Fassbinder didn’t find his creative journey with ease, and while I wouldn’t want to be as obsessed as he, the fact of the matter is he turned out some amazing art. Easy is for the faint of heart. I’m not trotting out the trite cliche that you have to suffer for your art, but you won’t get there looking for “easy” either. Perseverance is perhaps the best word I’ve found to describe the great artist. The great artist goes on, even when he goes deaf and can no longer hear his own sonatas and quartets and symphonies that are changing the world. Real artists continue to make movies on the side of Mount Fuji, even when they are 74 years old and blind. Rob Schneider, on the other hand, takes his creative journey with ease.
So true, so true, John. I also love what you said about perseverance.
Email subscribers are weighing in, too. (Any suggestions on how I can get these amazing people to actually comment on the blog?)
One says: “I love this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” (18 exclamation points?! That’s a new record.)
Also,
“Susan I like it very much! The photo is awesome too. There are a gazillion scenes such as this in North GA and NC and I love the peace and quiet there. I lived in NC until two years ago and got up to the mtns as often as I could; mostly west of Asheville up in the Blue Ridge.”
“Thank you Susan, I needed that today.”
Yeah, I can’t stand it when people won’t comment but will send you tons of private emails filled with all sorts of information. Kind of defeats the point of blogging.