Crossing the threshold into Fall my curious mind takes me on a journey exploring the origin of the word “fall”. Growing up in Germany I fell in love with the English language in my first lesson in Grade 5. It was instant and it has never left.
Reading through the different definitions of the word, both noun and verb, I come to a halt when I read “come suddenly to the ground“. It feels more like an instruction. Often when I am out in nature especially when I bring my camera along, sooner or later I drop to the ground to closely inspect what is capturing my attention. Lying with my belly and chest pressed to the earth the world looks different up close, clearer and always showing me something new or opening up a different perspective. This dropping to the ground is never planned, it just happens. I imagine creativity just moves me.
I look outside for signs of autumn and wish I was outdoors right now. There are no leaves floating gently to the ground. The Arbutus trees that surround me let go of their leaves in the summer, which is always so perplexing to see yellow leaves gliding through the air and covering the path thick with leaves in the midst of summer.
Yet Fall is undeniably here. Many of the birds are already gone and most flowers are done their blooming. I am delighted to see the little hummingbird sitting on the dead branches near the feeder every morning, wondering if it is the same one that kept me company all winter last year. The squirrel is another being that is here to stay while deer come and go and are rarely seen right now.
I welcome the cooler temperatures and changing weather and trust in the cycles of nature even in the craziness of our current world. I know that nature will continue to ground me and invite me to let go so that change can come from the inside out. My heart keeps me steady on course.
Yesterday I thought of Viktor Frankl, who survived years in the concentration camps and wrote the amazing book “Man’s Search For Meaning“. I wish to end this post with a quote from his book that confirmed what my heart already knows:
“For the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth – that Love is the ultimate and highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love.”
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
Many blessings on this Fall Equinox!
“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!
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.
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.
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.
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 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. 🙂
With winter ending in this part of the world, I notice many changes and awakenings around me as well as inside of me. It has been a long journey, that felt a lot like having been deep under water, only coming up for a breath of air here and there. Today as the sun is warming my skin and the birds are singing ever so sweetly, I experience a feeling of lightness, reminding me of what it feels like to float on the surface of the water without any resistance, allowing the current to carry me gently to an unknown destination.
The last six months have been intense, expanding, beautiful and hard. Letting go of a partnership is a deep process with many doubts, fears and old patterns, all rising to the surface at once, yet giving the opportunity to meet them in a new way, as well as allowing myself to take a deep honest look at myself, the relationship and what is prompting the letting go. Sitting with one another in the love, the pain and the grief, witnessing each other in this process, so unique and different, yet shared with such sincerity.
Feeling the deepest gratitude for the powerful and rich experience of coming together five years ago, following our dream here to Cortes and now shifting into a new way of relating, as we cut the cord and untethered under the Libra Blue Moon, where we offered this relationship to the fire, acknowledging the support we have given each other through the many emotional waves that letting go have stirred up in us on this journey, meeting the deep call of growth. Love has been our guide and has brought us to this point.
Right now I also feel deep joy in writing and sharing with you once again. It has been a while since this urge to communicate and share got strong enough to break through, whatever resistance or process I was in. Yet in this long pause I have also learned to trust deeper in the Muse to guide me and show me to give room for this inner turning that is going on, much like the seeds in the grounds preparing for the right moment to break through the earth into the light.
As I looked into my now former partner’s eyes today, I saw the same lightness also reflected in his eyes and I have never seen him more radiant.
As I woke up yesterday morning on the 24th, realizing that there would be no Christmas tree this year, my heart sank till my gaze was drawn outside. The magnificent trees outside my window were beckoning and I got up and looked at the incredible view. Each and every one of those trees were holding out their long green-sleeved arms to me and I got it: they were offering me the Christmas Spirit from my childhood: it is living in all of them. Tears filled my eyes, as I quickly threw on my coat and stepped out into the delightful cold crisp winter air and said Hello to my green friends with a heart full of joy: I was home again!
In the evening as I sat alone in front of the fire, gazing at the beautiful altar and Christmas lights in the room, feeling the Christmas Spirit so deeply and love filled every room in my heart in the stillness of that holy night.
Putting another log on the fire, I nestle into my soft blanket as the day comes to an end. I am surprised to see the soft glow of the moon in the East already, while the intense pink sky in the opposite direction announces the departure of the sun. Settling into the stillness of what is ending and beginning all at once, vivid memories from my recent trip return. I remember clearly my feeling of excitement and some fear as I sensed that this trip was just the beginning of a much bigger journey, as I stood at the back of the ferry watching the little island I call home disappear in the dense fog, leaving a sparkling trail of light.
It was such a sweet joy to visit with my dearest friend and as always share deeply with each other both the blessings and the pain. One of the many magical highlights was going for a hike together, climbing her favourite little mountain. My muscles were screaming by the time we got to the top. The little mountain was much bigger than I had anticipated. But the view overlooking Grand Forks and the wonderful feeling I always get when I climb a mountain and can leave behind old ideas, confusion and any heaviness I might be feeling, made more than up for the discomfort of my body.
As we sat on the top of that mountain, dark clouds began moving in quickly and we watched a lonesome crow ride a thermal right in front of us. We remarked on how unusual it was to see only one crow and wondered why a group of them is called something as strange as ” a murder of crows”. No sooner had we spoken the word when more and more crows joined the first one. All of sudden the murder of crows had appeared out of nowhere. There were more crows than we could count, all dancing with the strong winds right before our eyes. It was exhilarating and quite the show to watch, making us wish we could join them.
But there was another gift waiting for us. When we got back down to the bottom of the mountain, my friend found a Praying Mantis right by my car and we took turns holding her for a little while. I couldn’t help but feel profoundly touched by the encounter. 
This Praying Mantis with one broken antenna captured my heart as she sat there looking at me in complete stillness, helping me find my own inner stillness and connection to the Sacred.
When it was time to go back home and the ferry pulled away from Mayne Island at sunrise, I felt quite differently than when I started out on my trip. And one thing that became clear is that my journey isn’t over. As I allowed myself to first entertain the possibility of listening to a deep inner calling to visit the Big Island of Hawaii on my own, that possibility quickly took on a life of its own. I will be leaving for the next part of this journey in just over two weeks. My heart is filled with much gratitude and wonder, but also fear arises in the dark hours of the night, as I continue on this sacred journey into the Mystery.
Drawing Back The Curtain 