Settling on my blanket on the bluff last evening I felt so glad that I had packed up my basket with the usual: my camera, wool shawl, journal, pen and glasses. The setting sun was painting the clouds in broad strokes of orange hues. A mountain peak or two were still lit up as I felt the movement of the ocean moving me in some unfathomable way.
It felt heavenly to sit on the earth with solid rock and soft moss beneath me. Having listened to some brilliant story tellers just before I was called outside, their stories, their words, the mystery contained in them, was still alive in me and moving through me in this present moment. My heart was tuning in.
Slowing down to the speed of now I watched my hand move the pen across the page while listening to the birds settling in the last glow of light. Their voices becoming fainter, less frequent, quieting one at a time, until only the sound of the ocean and wind remained.
My body’s need to stretch in the much cooler air made me shift and something outlined in a tree in the distance caught my attention. The camera revealed the shape of a bald eagle also settling in for the night. He must have been there all along, silently witnessing the ending of the day from his perch. It suddenly dawned on me that this is probably the same eagle in the same tree that surprised me a few weeks ago while I was looking at a beautiful new house being built not far from me. As I was admiring the new creation something suddenly had made me look up in the tree beside me. Yes, something in me just knew that this was the same eagle.
As the first stars appeared in the darkening sky I appreciated his presence. It was lovely to share entering the night with him.
Wondering how to celebrate May Day on my own this year, I listen to the orchestra of the chimes ringing in the soft spring breeze with birds singing near and far, each taking their turn of listening and singing. I realize quickly I am not alone. Far from it. The buzz of nature around me reminds me that I am very much a part of this aliveness. Hummingbird hovers in front of my face letting me know that I am being seen. No, I am not alone. Soaking in the warm rays on this first day of May a little bird catches my attention before it flies to the forsaken nest above my bedroom window. My heart rejoices: they have returned. It looks like the cycle of life continues on. Yes, there is still much to celebrate: these little moments, this aliveness and the deepening sense of belonging.
For a moment everything appeared calm and perfect. Even the pigeons on the roof of the ferry building were closing their eyes after a good grooming session. It made me wonder if they felt as relieved as me that the sun had come out despite the rather gloomy weather forecast. Then without warning the peacefulness was interrupted by a crow joining the sleepy crowd. Everyone scattered making room for the strange visitor who nonchalantly moved to the eavestrough for a drink. Holding up a found treasure which looked like a white pearl in his beak he stared down at me. It felt like one of these special moments that invites you stop everything you are doing or thinking and just become present.
Not sure until the last moment if I was going to risk the predicted stormy weather to visit my sons on Mayne Island I am so glad that I went for it. Driving down Vancouver Island and making my way in stages I was enchanted by the fall colours and the dramatic changes of weather embracing the feeling of freedom.
From sun to heavy rainfalls autumn made itself known to be here. Rainbows graced the sky a few times making the long awaited visit even more special. It was my first trip since Christmas and it felt wonderful to be walking along the trails with my sons sharing the treasures and views along the way just like we have done since they were little except in those days we lived on a mountain top in the interior and now we were sharing the wonders of a little island in the ocean.
Every now and then one of them pointed out something they wanted me to see like a large snail crossing our path or a seagull rocking precariously on a moving log in the water giving me a glimpse of the past and of the wonder and curiosity in the young boys eyes seeing or experiencing something for the first time. Yet so many times I still have the experience of awe in nature and seeing with brand new eyes and I sense it is still there in them as well. Nature just invites this kind of opening and expansion.
Having visited Mayne Island quite a few times now the different landscape still surprises me each time I go. It is so much fun to discover more details and let my eyes feast on unfamiliar rock and sand formations that seem so unique to this island. Hearing also more about the rich history fills in the imagination of what it must have been like in the past and colourful sceneries come alive in a new way.
This trip my curiosity was drawn to the strange mounds of rocks scattered all over the forest. They look like little peaks where the ocean may have pushed the rocks into pyramid shaped forms a long time ago. It made me realize how everything changes over time and consider how high the water must have been at the time these came into being. What seems normal today may some day be something odd or strange, not quite fitting the landscape surrounding it.
Taking in the beautiful colours of the water surrounding the island it took me a while to figure out who was hiding in the kelp. All I could see was the whiskers of some mysterious water creature. It looked like a beaver, but I dismissed that idea not sure that beavers actually live in the ocean. So my next guess was an otter, but it wasn’t that either. Ever so slowly the animal’s head rose fully out of the water revealing a very sleepy seal, who could barely keep his eyes open to take a look at me before sinking back down until only his mouth and whiskers showed just above the waterline.
Standing still I watched it rise and fall, opening and closing its eyes, I imagine it was probably glad when I decided to join my sons and leave it be in peace. My sons were waiting for me around the bend and we got one last glimpse together of the seal hiding for an afternoon nap floating in the kelp before we moved on.
As short as the trip was the joy of sharing these special moments with loved ones was priceless and well worth the effort. I was so grateful that the weather was part of the wonder rather than stopping the trip before it even began. Watching the ferries go by and the dramatic change of clouds and light was like watching a silent movie together while we shared food, memories and what is current in our lives.
On my ferry rides and drive home I had much time to reflect and rejoice in the time we had together and feeling the fullness of my heart. Remembering also the recent visit of my dear friend and a special tapping session she did with me where she helped me embrace my “perfect imperfections“. Examining how much the idea of perfection had stopped me from doing certain things in my life because I knew I could never be perfect at it, her simple statement that I was being perfect at being imperfect brought tears of joy and relief. This I could be!
Laughing out loud on this perfect drive home I was so happy to embrace the beauty of imperfection. The freedom and joy I have felt since releasing this old belief formed such a long time ago is quite remarkable. Knowing whatever I do is perfect in its imperfection allows me to have a lot more fun with whatever I do.
The sound of the woodpecker’s rhythmic drumming on the Arbutus tree just outside my window reminds me to light a candle for this New Moon in Virgo. As the flame flickers wildly I wonder what new beginnings and new ways of being this moon invites me to open to.
Looking more closely at the pictures that the Woodpecker so graciously allowed me to take I discover to my delight that some of the white shapes on its wings look very much like tiny hearts. This brings a smile to my face. Who would have thought that the woodpecker would be a messenger of Love?
Today seems to be one of these days where things that I have not previously seen come all of a sudden into my awareness. Maybe I didn’t look closely enough before or perhaps other things distracted me.
This morning for instance while sitting out on the bluff for my meditation I noticed to my great and utter surprise a little bump of land just behind Kinghorn Island that I had never seen before or don’t remember seeing. I have no idea if it is a part of the island or if it is another smaller island behind Kinghorn. This was a rather startling discovery as I have looked at the same view pretty much every day since I moved here a year and a half ago.
Perhaps this is what Raven had been trying to tell me this morning while we were watching Kinghorn island slowly appear as the veil of smoke began to lift. With no background of the coastal mountains to distract me the little bump of land framed by the smoke finally was able to attract my attention. The fact that I had been blind to it all this time made a different kind of impact than the mighty mountains that continuously draw my gaze with their undeniable majestic beauty.
With the smoke limiting the view considerably it also seems to accentuate or bring into focus little details I have never noticed before. I have a feeling this New Moon in Virgo may also be encouraging me to look more closely at the little details in my life that I have not looked at or have not been able or willing to see.
It was fascinating to watch the boats go by and notice that they were all kind of colourless, blending in with everything else, which stood in sharp contrast to the rising sun’s fiery light on the water. Somehow the smoke makes everything appear to be the same except for the sun. It stands out like a beacon in the sky changing from vibrant red, orange and yellow – the same colour as the fires that are burning.
All of a sudden a different kind of smoke fills the air from the burned out candle as I type this. It seems I am meant to be present with, rather than resist, the fumes both on the inside and outside and what they wish to expose. It is not lost on me that it is another New Moon that inspires me to write and share once again.
A little later in the morning as I sat with my friend on the same bluff eating a late breakfast both of us in the same moment discovered the spiral on the button of my shoes. My friend spoke first as I stared at the beautiful swirls. I couldn’t help but laugh because I have owned these shoes for a few years now. The spiral reminded me of the mystery and the sense that life isn’t linear but full of swirls, illusions and moments of joy, moments where our hearts crack open and moments that may feel so challenging that we wonder if can rise to the occasion.
Ever since the Sun has entered Virgo I have felt the need to de-clutter and organize, discerning what needs to be let go of, what is aligned and what isn’t. This has also given me the energy I needed to move forward in my life and offering my services – coaching, counselling and Shamanic energy work – to those who are in need of support in these turbulent times as many of us are being called to give our gifts and rise to the occasion. Doing this work fills me in a way I can’t put into words and I am aware I have come full circle.
Now looking at the picture taken a few mornings ago of the sun rising over the mountains behind the smoke I allow myself to enter into the mystery of the glowing fiery circle with a trusting heart and open to what else wants to be unveiled on this New Moon where the sun and moon meet in the sky.
Beautiful New Moon Revelations and Blessings to you all!
A New Moon seems to be the perfect day to create another blogpost… especially a New Moon in Leo. Hoping that this time the fire of Leo will sustain my creativity and this post will actually be finished and shared when so many others have been written, abandoned or discarded, not ready to be seen.
With the garden in full bloom, fruits ripening on the trees and the heat of these beautiful August days calling forth in me an almost childlike joy to create and a wish to connect once again with all those who enjoy my photos and read my posts and I give myself once again to this process of natural unfolding.
A big mosquito stops the flow for a moment or perhaps adds to it and redirects it to a new mission as I defend my body. However it got away, which means tonight I either have to surrender and offer my blood or stay on the alert if the famous sound of the “buzz” awakens me. This is at least what my mind tells me are my only two options.
Each day brings new experiences even on days I am not going anywhere. A young buck might come barrelling down the path as if chased by a ferocious predator only to come to a sliding stop at the bottom of the path below my window to lie down for a midday rest, licking and tending itchy spots or bites and eventually going beneath my cabin for an even cooler place to hide.
Earlier this day I came across an interesting article called “The Mystery of the Tidal Phenomenon of Chalkida, Greece” written by Tasos Kokkinidis in which he describes the unique tidal pattern of the famous Evripus Channel. Not knowing much about tides in general I found this fascinating. In this channel that separates Chalkida from the mainland of Greece the sea current moves for six hours in a northerly direction, then becomes completely still for eight minutes before moving for six hours south in the opposite direction. This pattern is repeated four times each day, day after day, except for the 7th, 8th, 9th, 22nd, 23rd and 24th day of the lunar cycle. These days are called “the days of the mess” and the waters may change directions up to fourteen times or not at all and be still for up to eight minutes.
I don’t know why but I love this idea of the stillness of the eight minutes before the cycle changes and the strange predictability of the “messy” days, in which nothing seems to have a rhyme or reason. Just coming out of my own cycle of stillness after chaos which was so needed after a very stressful and crazy spring and early summer it is this stillness that also brought the clarity of necessary changes.
Like a snake who is in the process of shedding her old skin there is no going back. Trying to put the old skin back on is not an option. It takes a while for the mind to catch up and accept that life once again is changing directions. Sensing that this vibrant New Moon is indeed a New Beginning and a turning towards what I love to give the most and what fills me. I see I have been preparing the inner soil and the space so I can move forward in a new way.
It has been a very different summer for me. Remembering so many summers longing for the freedom to deeply enjoy this beautiful season, when it usually ended up being the busiest and craziest time of the year. This summer was different than any other I have known. The first half I spent mostly inside not having much energy for anything and allowing myself to feel the depth of tiredness from all the movement and changes. Now as my energy is slowly returning I am so grateful for this long pause that allowed me to just sit in the exhaustion, feel it and surrender to it. Often sitting out on the bluff I wondered if my own exhaustion mirrored the exhaustion of so many and that of Mother Earth herself and if this pause is absolutely necessary for me/for us to change gears and direction.
In the stillness I felt held by Nature who kept sending me signs of love and tenderness and of strength. Perhaps this new strength is a different kind of strength, one that is centred in stillness which can take a different softer form as it moves back out into the world in a way that is nourishing and nurturing, sustainable and thriving, and able to face the messy days yet to come.
The many blessings and wonder I received in this time especially since I decided to let go of the old skin and the old job and surrender to the Unknown were beyond anything I could ever imagine. Perhaps I will describe some of these in a future post. For now I hold them close to my heart trusting in the messages that came with each gift.
Last night another sweet gift in the form of this little hummingbird arrived who kept me company enjoying the evening breeze as much as I did and was even up to a mini photo shoot. Then we just sat there together, every now and then each of us taking a sip, me from my cup and the hummingbird from the feeder. The peacefulness of that moment is still with me reminding me of those eight minutes when all movement seizes.
Then the dark invited me to the bluff again where I have spent so much of this summer just lying on the moss feeling the firm ground beneath me watching the incredible display of the night sky with meteors flying like arrows through the star filled sky as Jupiter, Saturn and Mars hold space to be – to just be.
Happy New Moon in Leo, dear ones!
May it ignite the spark to shine our unique light in and for us all!
Deciding to set up my office outside today hummingbird zooms by a couple of times insisting it is time for me to hang up the feeder to welcome it home. As I prepare its “welcome home” feast I also feel called to smudge before I sit down in my less than elegant but totally enjoyable writing space. Watching the spiralling smoke as I set the smudge bowl onto the altar, I am surprised to see the restless patterns dance into the room. Mesmerized I am drawn into its wild dance wondering about the energy it is releasing.
Finally sitting down again outside I can reflect upon the letting go of the grief and pent up emotions over the changes and experiences in my life over the last several weeks. Raven glides overhead, the swishing sound of its wings feels strangely connected to the energy of releasing. Taking a deep breath I also tune into the sound of the chimes moving softly. Its song is surprisingly gentle and comforting.
There have been many uplifting gifts lately which I received gratefully as maneuvering through these strange times has not been easy. Deeply longing to just retreat from the world and become still, life had other plans for me and didn’t let me of the hook. I write this with a smile, because I recognize the opportunity of growth as I slowly break through my resistance, exhaustion and sadness around the unfolding of events not just in the world but here on our little island.
These two very special beings, Omar and Raven, from White Horse Sanctuary (https://whitehorsesanctuary.com/) have been helping me stay sane and are such incredible teachers bringing me back into presence and oneness as well as finding the source of self-assurance and what that actually means to me. They unfalteringly show me when I am not present and make me laugh. It is so good to laugh and delight in the many gifts of spring including the opportunity of gardening.
Last night’s gift was incredibly special. Perhaps you received it as well. Watching the light slowly fade after sunset and a pink glow appear in the sky announcing the arrival of the Full Moon, nothing prepared me for the sight as she crested the coastal mountains bringing me to tears with her golden beauty. Thoughts, emotions, everything vanished in this moment of witnessing something I don’t even want to try to put into a box of words.
Sitting in timelessness everything just fell away. The cold wind felt like a kiss of awakening blowing away any sadness or anger, taking me into a stillness and fullness that perhaps the picture of the moon can convey just a little. Many hours later making my way slowly back down to my cabin with the light of the moon illuminating the way home, I was filled with so much gratitude and joy and a sense of a deeper belonging. It is still with me now as I write these words and hummingbird takes its first deep drink of the season before it buzzes away again.
This morning after the best sleep I had in years the first light was pulling me from my dreams. Rushing back up to the bluff wrapped in a blanket the rays of the new day brought more tears of wonder and deep appreciation.
The recognition of how truly blessed and loved I am took my breath away. And as the light of the sun warmth me on this beautiful but still cool day of spring I am reminded once again of a truth that felt so distant in recent times: Love connects us all.
“May the one heart shine brightly in each of us like the golden light of the sun and moon and may tenderness replace judgement, fear and separation. May we be kind to ourselves, to each other and all beings. And may we receive the teachings and blessings of this time with graciousness, openness and patience.” ~ Elke
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!
Leaves are fluttering softly in the ocean breeze singing a song I haven’t heard before with birds adding their own melodies here on the south side of Cortes Island. I am slowly settling into my new very temporary home where I am housesitting, allowing its incredible beauty and expansive ocean views to touch and open me.
My two very affectionate canine companions that I am looking after for six days, have finally settled down beside me. Each is lying curled up on either side of my chair, waiting patiently and often not so patiently for the opportunity to receive more attention, a meal or another outing. I have to admit the sunshine glistening on the ocean and the sandy beach getting more and more exposed as the tide goes out is hard to resist. This invitation to fully experience the dramatic beauty offered here so freely beckons every time I lift my head and look outside.
Since arriving here on Friday I have noticed myself taking in my new surrounding more slowly and carefully than I usually do, but certainly with as much wonder and delight. It almost feels like I have stepped into a beautiful dream, which I don’t want to wake up from.
The many flowers, the sacred feel of the garden as well as the beauty of the spirit of this land bring me gently but deeply into the moment. I notice an inner response, a feeling of something lifting and finally once again letting go of needing to know how life is going to unfold. What a sweet relief to keep surrendering!
The exquisite scent of roses, honeysuckle and other sweet smelling plants absolutely captivate me, stopping me in my tracks. There is no way that I can walk by and ignore this heavenly calling to breathe in these potent and yet delicate aromas.
As the clouds come and go, flowers in all stages of blooming and decay declare their place in life, reminding me of something I read recently in a book called “Caves of Power”. The author Sergio Magana Ocelocoyotl describes how in the Toltec and Mexihca oral traditions “the lines of your face show everything you’ve ever experienced, but above all the way you’ve lived your life on Mother Earth.” It makes me look at the lines in my own face in a whole new way and makes me appreciate each part of the journey.
I am so grateful that the sun keeps surprising me, despite the forecast which has been anything but encouraging. Yet the artistry of the moving clouds is undeniable as the view shifts and changes from moment to moment. Noticing that as I keep opening to the precious now, the encouragement that I feel to carefully select and plant seeds of what I want my life to look and feel like, while at the same time honouring the dream and love that brought me here and appreciate and be present to what is here now.
As I explore more of this garden of Now, I get to learn and see what needs to be nourished, weeded and let go of, as well as allow myself to receive the gift of the giant bouquet of flowers that life is offering me with wide open arms and heart and so much gratitude.
Observing the month of May unfold with its bright greens, new blossoms appearing daily and the incredible vibrancy of so many birds adds to the awakening and liveliness all around. The sense of new beginnings fills the air, even if the temperatures still rise and fall, letting us know that trying to predict life and nature is impossible. So why even try!
Yet all is not unfolding as peacefully and harmoniously as the beauty around me suggests. The energy of the Scorpio Full Moon waxing, coming into its full power and now waning, undoubtedly has added to some of the intensity that I have been experiencing.
While walking out to the bluff the other day, I heard a lot of splashing in our little bay and to my dismay watched as an eagle repeatedly was diving down, attacking a beautiful small duck. I had been observing the little drake for a week or so as it has enchanted me with its peaceful presence. As I rushed to the water’s edge both birds were getting more and more tired, the eagle from repeatedly diving into the water and rising heavily with wet wings and the duck from diving under and barely getting its breath before the next attack. It seemed a matter of who would give up first. I have to admit I was breathing a big sigh of relief when the duck was able to fly away after the eagle retreated to a favourite treetop lookout.
To my surprise the brave little duck came back a couple of hours later, his mate joining him for an evening paddle on the water, before returning to sit on a nest hidden somewhere nearby. I still feel a bit of unease whenever I see one of the eagles sitting in the trees around the bay, especially when the tide is getting low and the drake is all alone on the water.
The ravens haven’t been happy with the eagles either. They are also nesting again this year after a two year break and their young ones have obviously hatched, according to the noise that goes on up there. My guess is that Mother or Father Raven is bringing some delightful morsel home for the young brood that causes this much noise and excitement. We know from experience that it will only get noisier as they get bigger and believe me, it is not the prettiest sound by far.
However, the raven parents gang up and chase any eagle bravely away if he comes a bit too close for comfort, which obviously benefits the ducks as well. Everyday I observe this kind of life and death drama unfold around me, holding my breath, knowing that every one needs to eat, but still it does not make it any easier to witness.
Making a video with the poem I recorded for the radio show, which I mentioned in my last post, was much more complicated than I had thought it would be. It was also a lot of fun to co-create and see where the river of creation would take this. In the end, all the effort, patience, persistence and surrendering to the process was all worth it, with every challenge an important piece of the creative unfoldment. All of it manifested a deep sense of fulfillment, joy and wonder, as the message of the poem and our love for Nature was guiding us and leading the way.
And now I am finally able to share it with you as promised and hope that this video and my reading of Mary Reynolds Thompson’s beautiful poem “Song Of A Wild Soul Woman” will speak to you and delight and awaken your senses and wild soul:
Sitting 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.
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.
As 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:
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.
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.
I 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. 🙂