by Audri Scott Williams

    The Trail of Dreams was an incredible journey undertaken by Audri Scott Williams, Karen Watson, Anne Divine, Ricardo Myrick, Lynett Allen, and team 'mom,' Sylester Williams. The walk fulfilled a vision of traveling from north to south along the trails of the Underground Railroad and escape routes from the Trail of Tears. The Underground Railroad was a network of contacts, hidden trails, and passageways that assisted African Americans fleeing the slavery of the deep south to freedom in the north as far as Canada. The Trail of Tears, traveled by Native Americans, was a series of routes from the middle and southeastern United States to the west as far as Oklahoma. These Native Americans, including women, children and the elderly, were forced by the United States government to leave their homelands and relocate to reservations. Traveling on foot with few provisions during the dead of winter, many perished and were buried along the Trail.

     The recent Trail of Dreams, which began in April 2000, retraced many of those same steps in reverence, remembrance and hope to remind the children of their ancestors and their journey and encourage them to embrace the sacred power of their dreams. Below is a glimpse into that journey. How do you return from a journey such as the Trail of Dreams? During this incredible sixty-four day journey, walking many of the miles from Fayetteville, Pennsylvania to Dillard, Georgia, through the Appalachian Mountains, we (the Trail of Dreams Team) traveled 'between two worlds.' We participated in a strenuous, physical journey as we hiked up mountains pushing us to the limit of our hearts and lungs, and down steep inclines where we learned that knees, ankles and toes can ache in ways you cannot imagine. We entered a journey beyond time where the call of our ancestors beckoned us to share their flight.

   Traveling by day and by night in the footsteps of our ancestors (fleeing the heinous crimes of slavery and the atrocities of the Trail of Tears) was frightening. On what looked like impossible climbs up, I felt my ancestors there walking beside me, reminding me that for them stopping and giving in to their feelings of exhaustion wasn't an option, so it wasn't an option for me, either. Though barefoot, poorly fed, and sparsely clothed, their journey wasn't over until they were free. We had the best of clothes and equipment, and we struggled.

     I remember one day had been particularly rough through the southwestern part of Pennsylvania. For anyone who has hiked this area, you know it's an uphill climb (coming south) over rocks and boulders. There are spots where you don't even see the ground. This day was a long day that ended in a steep uphill climb. I remember looking up and wondering if I'd make it. I turned back to Karen and asked, “Could you imagine doing this with dogs barking in the distance, and these forty pound back packs being children?” She smiled. As we turned our attention once again to the hill, past became present as dogs began to bark from above us. We moved with renewed vigor to our final destination as the adrenaline rushed through our veins.

     Another night, just after midnight to be exact, in Waynesboro, Virginia, a policeman came into our camp with his bright lights and curious glances. He wanted to know what we were doing and why our van was parked at the site. After a few minutes, Ricardo and I gave him our drivers' licenses. He called them in, returned them to us, and left. As everyone returned to their tents, I realized I needed something from the van. As I was digging through the things in the van, the police light appeared again. One of the officers came to the van, “Ms. Williams, step to the back of the van.”

      Something did not feel right, and there was no one around. The other team members were in their tents. As I moved to the rear of the van, the officer grabbed my arms and handcuffed me! I cannot describe what was going on inside of me at that moment. When I asked the officer why, he explained that because there was a group of us, he couldn't take any chances; one of us might have a gun. By this time, Anne came from behind the van because she had heard the sound of the handcuffs. The officer had no clue as to the larger spiritual lesson that was unfolding. I had received a vision to walk in my ancestors' footsteps to 'experience,' not just study, their journey. In so doing, I was shackled in the middle of the night with all the fear, desperation, and anger that they experienced. I also felt the absolute vulnerability of our young men of color confronting the same prejudice, violence and indignation. They are facing this daily. I know; I have three sons. Caught in the shackles of my ancestors (the past) and those of our youth (our future) on a dark, moon lit night, in a field of buttercups, I realized this was part of my journey.

      The Trail of Dreams provided the classroom where I experienced the power of the Light that is within each of us, that is within me. There were six of us who walked the entire physical and Spirit journey. We gathered in circle nearly every day to discuss what was going on within each of us, to bring forward in Love and Truth anything that was preventing us from being our highest selves. Sometimes our circles lasted hours. Being clear was crucial. Getting on the Trail and not being clear meant carrying extra 'weight.' When we were not clear, we couldn't even find our way on to the Trail. Mother Nature did not play. She would bring our 'stuff' up and clean it up quickly!! None of us wanted to fool with Mother Nature!!

      We made a commitment from the beginning that everywhere we walked was a Sacred space. We held each other, Mother Earth, our animal friends and winged friends as being Sacred. In Truth, we acknowledged the Sacred in all things at all times. We walked, slept, dreamed and breathed in prayer. It was this that created the magic. Every need we had was met. Trail Angels, a name used to describe people who showed up and kept us on our path, appeared from amazing places and wishes were granted.

      One Saturday, I received a knowing that we were to fellowship in church the next morning. We had to go to the post office, so Ricardo could pick up a package of goodies. While Ricardo was in the post office, a man walked out and I nearly shouted, “He can tell us where to worship!” I jumped out of the van, ran up to him, told him who we were and that we were looking for a church where we could fellowship the next morning. He began to laugh. He asked me if I knew why I came up to him. As it turned out, he was a pastor of a Baptist church; the next morning was his ninth anniversary service.

      Guess where we went to church Sunday morning? The church made a contribution to assist us on our journey. As we were leaving, he came over and placed the donation in my hand and said to us, “When you are out there on the Trail and you need anything, just remember you have someone you can call.”

     As we came into the southern Tennessee side of theTrail, I recall a feeling that someone was watching us. Anne and I were hiking alone that day. As I looked into the woods on either side of us, I had this sensation of seeing Native American warriors on horseback on either side of us. They were protecting us through this passage. I nearly cried as I watched. Chills came over me. How honored I felt and humbled to a higher power that was obviously orchestrating a Divine plan of which we were a part.

      Towards the end of the walk, people we would meet always commented on the Light that emanated from us. In our final Trail moment together, we sat in a 'Spirit Cave' and witnessed the Light that brought us here. For each of us, this was a moment of Truth. It was here that I realized, never again can I embrace anything without passion. I must lead with my heart and dreams and know that the Creator has everything well in hand regardless of what it looks like in any given moment. After all, there we were at the end our journey at least fifty days after we 'ran out' of money. The Trail of Dreams that was to encourage 'the children' to embrace the power of their dreams, taught each of us on the Trail to do the same.

      Lesson: Anything is possible if you believe. Be a believer in your own dreams.

      How do you return from a journey such as the Trail of Dreams? You don't. You carry that journey with you forever.

Audri Scott Williams, author of the Diary of NOWTIME Prophecies,
is Dean of Instruction for the School for Spiritual Awakening Through Initiation by Spirit.
For information, call the Institute for Divine Wisdom at 404-761-2205.