HU is a special word. It is called the sound within all sounds, a very ancient name for God,

and a connection to the creative current, the spirit of life. At first, I didn’t know what that meant

but liked the sound, spoken or sung as “HUE”.  I began testing it as a daily mantra, a primer for contemplation and a way to tune my inner strings to that current, to calibrate true north. It’s proven very useful.

One year, longing for more innocent times, I decided to visit the woods of home to recapture my childhood enthusiasm. I would walk among the trees of my early years, run along the stream, sit by the waterfall, warm myself in the arms of nature. I charged across two states to get there.

My first steps into the woods were laden with syrupy sensory magic, the perfume of pine, the rust colored pine needles lining the path, the lush winding green. Tall trees whished in the breeze high above. Mystery and memory mingled. As I strode, regaining sure-footedness, I rejoiced with the snapping twigs, the crushing of dry leaves, the scampering of squirrels and spiders, and breathed in the mossy air, intoxicated with the scent of the earth. Wandering deeper and deeper into reverie for what seemed like an hour, I finally stopped and looked to the left and right, to the front and back. I was no longer on the path!

Everything was suddenly strange and ominous, somehow darker than before. Where am I? The hair on my neck bristled in pinpricks of panic. What do I do? Wha?… then I remembered the HU. I stood stone still and sang out loud, HUUUUUUU. I let my breathing relax and listened. There was a high pitch whistle then forest murmurs, whispering wind, bird song, leaves rustling and something else…the sound of water…the waterfall! Turning my head one way, then the other, I honed in on that sound and, moving toward it, soon stood on a hillside looking down on the familiar falls. It was surprising how far I’d gotten from the path, but with an easy slide down the slope I found the trail and began the trek out. I went on until a sudden sign brought me to a jarring halt. Staring wide-eyed I read bold letters:  DEAD END.  Time seemed to reset, my dreaminess dissolving. I stepped out of the woods and into the cul-de-sac only a few doors from my birth home. The sense of urgency evaporated. A message was given and received. I love this place dearly in memory, but cannot go back. It was time move on, and so I did, returning to the here and now.

There were no personal GPS devices then, but technology could not have located the insight, understanding, appreciation, and gratitude the HU awakened that day and the many days that followed. It is a tool to recognize inner guidance; one that has helped me to find myself, and the way home.