Category Archives: inspiration

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

P1260104Change 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.

P1100501My 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.

 

P1260281That 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.

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The Gentle Spreading Of Wings

 

P1220789Sitting on the beach watching a seagull fly by, proudly carrying her treasure, I smile as I hear the familiar sound as she lets go and the shell hits the rocks with a big “clunk”. With the warmth of the sun gone, she hides above a thick layer of clouds that seems to have come out of nowhere. I shiver in the cool April air as the temperature drops accordingly and the wind happens to pick up at the same time, adding to the chill I suddenly feel.

Grateful that I brought my big warm winter coat, I nestle deeper into it, buttoning up, wishing I had brought my fingerless gloves, which allow me to type in more comfort. Yet sensing that comfort is not really what it is all about, I allow the experience of this moment without following the impulse to retreat and sit by a cozy fire inside instead.

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The gentle lull of the waves coming into the shore brings a different kind of comfort, a peacefulness and sense that all is well and just as it is meant to be. The seagull stops suddenly what it is doing and watches an eagle glide by, then as soon as it is safe continues to enjoy her meal before the next round of treasure hunting begins.

Remembering the big flock of geese flying by just two days ago while sitting in the exact same spot, where coat and sweater was soon discarded to soak in the warm rays of sunshine after the long winter. The hauntingly beautiful calling of the geese announced their arrival long before we could see them. Watching them fly in perfect formation, I remarked on the mystery of how they know exactly where to go and that they surely must have an inner compass guiding them, when suddenly some of the geese started veering off to the left, then changing their mind again and going to the right, creating a bit of chaos in the formation and a loud discussion in the flock. Finally we watched them disappear over the little mountain while their voices soon faded into the distance.

P1220753As I rub my fingers to stay warm, the gentle silence and breeze open the space to notice the feeling of deep content inside, that has been there since yesterday, when I was able to step out of my comfort zone and try something new, which in itself turned out so rewarding.

I read and recorded a favourite poem for a local radio show called “From the Muse’s Garden”, which I had promised to contribute to in some way. And even though I do not write poetry, I certainly love reading and hearing them. If you are curious you can hear the radio show every Monday from 5 to 7 pm live at this address:

https://cortesradio.ca/

It is a delight with many treasures of both poetry and music. One of them read by Dorna Djenab moved me to tears a couple of weeks ago and inspired me to want to try to spread my own wings. 

The recording took many tries, and after a while I let go of perfection and instead entered my heart space as I opened to the incredible beauty and passion of the poem, not worrying about the hammering going on across the bay or anything else for that matter. 

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This letting go and doing something that is most definitely out of my comfort zone, showed me to my surprise how much I enjoyed not only the result, but also the process. Noticing the powerful hold of my inner critic and fear, I decided to enter the place of love instead: love for the poem and love for myself.

There is such a joy in discovering something new, something I didn’t know I would love doing so much and if I had kept listening to those voices, I would have either never tried or given up. Instead I am very much looking forward to doing more of this and who knows where it is going to take me and what surprises and delights are around the next corner. 

P1220351I would like to share with you Dorna Djenab’s beautiful rendition from Khalil Gibran’s “The Prophet” and perhaps it will inspire you as well to try something new and spread your wings…. And I am hoping to share with you in my next post the reading of the poem that I recorded. So stay tuned. 🙂