Five Years In The Making

Making my way to the bluff I take off my shoes as soon as I reach the moss covered ground. The moss is dry and brittle, but still soft beneath my feet. I drink in the heat of the sun through the soles of my bare feet as well as my skin. It is surprisingly hot after a few cooler days with just a sprinkle of rain. I don’t last long in the full sun, enjoying one last look of the gorgeous view of mountains, forests and ocean and retreat to my cabin that I am blessed to now call home.

Meeting a very friendly squirrel on the way back, it surprises me how it comes fearlessly all the way down to the path I am on, checks me out with gentle curiosity and then keeps on going past the bathtub on some sort of mission. With no rain in sight and already a Level 3 drought warning I let go of my plan to have a bath in the moonlight tonight. That will have to wait till rain is in the forecast and will be something to look forward to and celebrate.

It feels good to be back in the much cooler cabin and it feels incredible to finally have a year round and hopefully longterm rental and not only that, but such a special one. What a relief and joy after a year and a half of looking for a new home.

Painting it from top to bottom was well worth it, even though I had no idea how much work it would turn out to be and how long it would take. Preparing this space was a labour of love, not just for myself but even more so as a healing space for others. It felt like it was just made for it and I was so happy when the moment finally arrived and I was able to offer my first session here last week. It was like coming home on many different levels.

This feeling of being in the right place surrounds me here among the Arbutus trees. Even the dead ones still hold a powerful energy and beauty and remind me once again that endings are tightly interwoven with new beginnings. This is the place I first stayed at on Cortes Island five years ago over a long Easter weekend. I fell so in love with this beautiful island then, that I didn’t want to leave. Little did I know that my yearning to be here and my sense of belonging would fulfill itself in such a way, bringing me back not only to the island but to the place where it all began almost exactly five years later.

Trusting that life has opened this door for me for a reason, I delight in being here, feeling so happy to be surrounded by the beauty of nature and feel so welcomed in this neighbourhood. Amazingly I am doing exactly what I had envisioned five years ago: sitting by the big window amidst the Arbutus trees and writing on my computer. What a confirmation of manifestation….

With so much gratitude to all my wonderful friends that helped me paint, move, build a gate, decorate and support me in so many ways on this journey…thank you so much!

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The Long Walk Home

“Change with heart!” These three words were the only thing I remembered as a noise pulled me out of my dream. Yet the clarity and meaning of them stood in astonishing contrast to the grogginess I felt from being pulled out of my sleep. Strangely even though I couldn’t remember a thing other than these words, the meaning was as clear as the raindrops gently falling from the sky: inner and outer change needs to come from the heart!

It also reminded me of the experience of finding a beautiful black and white feather beside my plate one morning a couple of summers ago when my mother was visiting. I still remember the feeling of sweet surprise as I sat down at the table set for breakfast holding the woodpecker feather gently in my hand.

My love for rocks and feathers was never quite understood by my parents. It was usually made fun of, so it was extra special when I found this treasure by my plate. So strange how a feather can feel like one of the greatest gifts I have ever received from my mother and she has given me so much including my life.

Now looking back at that moment I clearly see that this gesture was her way to acknowledge and honour my love for these offerings from nature despite her seeing them so differently. In that instance the lifelong belief of not feeling understood or seen by her vanished. Instead another memory brought a smile and tears to my eyes: The Spring after my oldest son Magnus was born, my mother and I were taking turns pushing the baby buggy over impossible rough, recently logged, terrain and carrying a magnificent big white rock I had found that I just had to bring home. We still often laugh and remember that long walk home and how much strength it took to bring both the rock and the baby safely home.

 

That special stone has moved with me from my cabin in the mountains to the ocean and many other homes in between. It holds a very special place in my heart. It reminds me of that powerful time in my life raising my boys in the wilderness and my parents coming every year to help out with so many projects like building a woodshed, or helping me cut the six chords of firewood needed to get us through the winter and the many other amazing things they did for us. My mother who loves the city put aside her own beliefs, fears and comfort, venturing up that “crazy” mountain road where you prayed that you wouldn’t meet a logging truck coming down around each corner especially in the winter.

A woodpecker flies by with its bright red cap announcing its presence and bringing me back into the present moment. I think he agrees it is time lay to rest the old false beliefs and hurt feelings carried from childhood and I thank my dream and my heart for letting me see so clearly how loved I am.

 

 

 

 

Sacred Dreaming

Sweet sunlight touches my fingers as they glide across the keyboard feeling light and weightless. Today is a new day and it holds so much promise.

Plans of washing clothes, vacuuming, and cleaning up, are all flying out the window as I bask in the warmth of the light coming through the glass…thoughts of different possibilities drift by gently as I consider how to honour the gift of this day.

Nature is beckoning as light fairies are dancing across the water. I know I will be going outside soon with my camera to capture some of the magic.

It is fun to allow the words to weave themselves as Grandmother Spider is sending out a barely seen thread into the world on a slight breeze on this winter morning.

It is even more fun to allow myself to dream again. This day feels like it was made just for that.

Yesterday I started a new collage. I used to make one almost every year. They help me focus on what I want to manifest in my life. Their images remind me of what is important to me and keep me aligned with my dreams. Many of them have come true. I just have to look around and see what is here: living in one of the most beautiful places I could ever imagine, a sweet home with a wood stove and many windows and a beautiful view, a partner who appreciates and loves me, living in nature with a bountiful garden, fruit trees and berry bushes….the list goes on and on. There is so much to be grateful for and many dreams are now my reality.

Working on this collage brings up memories of dreams I am still longing for, some old ones and some I only recently allowed myself to have. It is a delight to see this new collage unfold as I carefully choose and position each image. In this process a memory of my father speaking about the fulfillment of one of his big dreams arises. He had a dream for many, many years to one day own a brand new Mercedes Benz. I was so happy when I heard around the time of his retirement that he was finally able to fulfill this dream. The next time my parents came for their yearly visit, I asked him how he liked his brand new car and his answer surprised me very much. He said: “The car is great, but the dream was even greater!” For him the joy of having and holding the dream and the connection to the mystery of its unfolding was more dear than the real thing.

My father passed away a few years ago, but still visits me occasionally in my night time dreams. He was instrumental to my partner and I moving to this beautiful place. I had a dream in which my father gave me the greatest gift. The problem was, when I woke up I couldn’t remember what it was. It was too big to bring back into this reality. I remember wondering all day what the gift had been. That evening I talked to a friend of mine who had known my father and who also knows me well. I told him about my dilemma of not remembering the dream fully. My friend asked me: “What is the biggest thing your father could give you?” Automatically I replied: “His Love!”. “No, bigger than that!” my friend said. I was shocked. This surprising answer from my friend prompted me to enter deeply into the question: “What could be a bigger gift than my father’s love?”  The answer came slowly to the surface with deep emotion. Tears were spilling from my eyes as I replied: “He gave me my life! …And then the memory of the gift came back: “In the dream he gave me permission to live my life the way I want to live it, not the way others expected me to or how I had been conditioned.” Tears are running down my cheeks again as I write this. He could not have given me a greater gift. The day after I had that dream and out of the blue my partner found this beautiful home on Cortes Island. We made the decision right then and there to let go of our lives in Victoria and move here. Less than two months after the dream my life had completely changed. I am not sure if I could have taken the step and given myself the permission to live my dream without the message and encouragement from my father.

The thread that Grandmother Spider has sent out is now anchored firmly to the big Fir tree in front of my window with the light and wind playfully changing it’s colour in the most magical way. I feel grateful to the power and sacredness of dreams and dreaming and hold a vision in my heart that our collective dreaming will weave a web of love, connection and a growing consciousness that celebrates the sacredness of all of life.