Cackling Witches

The fog rising from the ocean this morning was so dense allowing no glimpses of the water below. It was beautiful in its white softness. Feeling the surprisingly warm moss beneath my bare feet I was so glad to be high up on the bluff, able to see far into the distance where the majestic coastal mountain peaks were clearly visible. In fact the whiteness of the fog cover brought them even more into focus. It is amazing how a sunny spring morning can lift the spirit. Lately I’ve been feeling like I am in a deep fog trying to find my way and then just like that, something shifts and the fog lifts, maybe just for a moment or a day, or if lucky it will be gone for a while.

Spring is not only in the air. It has arrived. Sitting with my computer outside on my deck for the first time this year I can’t express how much I enjoy the sunshine, the freshness of the air and the chimes singing softly in the background. Earlier I noticed the bright smiling daffodils in full bloom and the raspberry bushes budding with their first green leaves in the garden. I just had to pause over and over again noticing which plants where starting to awaken.

The little angel card for today felt very fitting: “Celebration” and the bright yellow blooms in the garden seem to confirm that. As I am typing a sudden strange sound like an old fashioned clock ticking loudly captures my attention. I put my ear to my computer and then my camera to see if they are making this ticking sound, but to my surprise my gaze is drawn to a nearby arbutus tree where the noise appears to be coming from. It turns out that there are two dried up dead leaves clapping together in the gentle breeze. I guess they are agreeing that spring is a time to celebrate. New life and perhaps the possibility of new beginnings are offering themselves in this yearly magical spectacle. With Pluto shifting into the sign of Aquarius this week, I sense there will be many new important developments coming in the next years and that it is important to keep our eyes wide open and make conscious choices of what kind of world we want to create for the next generations.

The clear view this morning brought hope and trust in the natural unfolding as did my time on Mayne Island visiting my son Trygve last week. I had brought my little foldable rigid heddle loom and some wool with me as I had just gotten back into weaving. My son was away on the first night when I arrived. So I took the opportunity to put the warp thread on the loom. After figuring out a perfect set up for this in the tiny home I soon was engrossed in the task. All of sudden I heard an owl hoot not far away. Then there was more hooting and soon I wasn’t sure anymore if it was one owl or two. The hooting turned into a strange cackling sound. It made me laugh when the eery sound brought back memories of my older sister reading the fairy tale Hansel and Gretel one night and the silhouette of the large rubber plant standing outside the open bedroom door sure looked like a witch to me. The funny thing is once I saw it, I couldn’t un-see it. The memory of it was so clear in my mind as I listened to the owls and warped the loom. So I decided to call the piece that I was making “Cackling Witches”.

It is astounding that the things I weave often have a title or name that comes either before I start or at the beginning of the project. It comes through very clearly and it almost feels like the piece is weaving itself. Weaving this one has been great fun. The cackling witches encouraged me let go of the structured ideas of the mind and invited me over and over again to allow the magic to unfold and be bold. Being there with my son made the process even sweeter. His interest and engagement added to the joy and on top of that we found a whole bunch of yarn in the Thrift Store which felt like the icing on the cake. I am afraid his tiny home became a weaving studio with yarn spread out everywhere, but thankfully he didn’t seem mind. To my delight when I told him about the owls and the name they inspired he laughed and said he had heard them. Puzzled I asked him how that is possible when he was off island. He got out his phone and played the sound. A neighbour had recorded some of it and posted it on Facebook.

And so life goes: up and down. One moment full of joy and creativity, the next I find myself maneuvering another challenge or opportunity, however I want to look at it. I sure have felt the intensity of the Equinox and Aries New Moon and I know many others around me have as well. It does feel like a beginning point of something new. What that actually means to me and my life or to us as a collective will no doubt be revealed in time. In the meantime I will keep reminding myself to trust in the unfolding and the magic and to stay as much as I can in my heart and in the now.

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Comfort Zone

It feels like winter, even though the calendar proclaims that it is autumn. We already had our first snow which is unusual for the west coast. The seasons blend into each other more and more it seems. The time change made the days even shorter or at least it feels like that to me as it is getting dark so early now. Its necessity is still not clear to me. It takes a little time for my body and mind to adjust and get used to the shorter days and dimmer light. However I am noticing myself letting go of the resistance and appreciating the slower pace, the coziness of my cabin and the freshness of the air when I do go outside.

Yesterday I made myself get on my e-bike and go for a ride in the fog late in the day. Once I was getting into a rhythm the thrill of the movement, the cool air and directly relating to nature, rather than just looking out my window, lifted my energy and spirit. It felt like I was riding my bike into the unknown. Deciding to ride down to the end of a road that I only knew a little ways was part of the fun. It was downhill most of the way, but thanks to my wonderful Rad Rover I felt confident I would make it back up and all the way home. On my way back I helped a little newt get off the road and it was so precious to hold this little being in my hand for a moment in time.

The fog got even denser at night when I drove to our choir practice, picking up other singers on the way. Instead of talking we got into remembering and singing our songs and we did the same on the way home. The thick fog held us in this capsule out of time as our voices rang out together, slowly but surely finding its way to harmony. It lifted me right out of my own fog into cherishing this moment of connection and singing together.

This year I have spent a lot of time preparing myself to give my first Enlightenment Intensive where people enquire into the Truth in dyad format with two people taking turns to listen and contemplate and communicate. The connection and contact with your partner in a dyad makes this a very unique and powerful meditation practice. It has been quite the journey from taking my first Intensive in 2007 to giving one at the end of September. But I recognized something is calling me and I really had to step out of my comfort zone many, many times over these years. Yet I am so grateful where it has taken me and I am so looking forward to giving my next one in January 2023, which will be a Love Intensive, where everyone enquires into the Truth of Love.

I also recognize now that sometimes in your life you take a big step where you have to take a leap of faith and completely step out of your comfort zone. There are many little steps and jumps beforehand that prepare you for the big ones. And all you have to do is take one step at a time. It seems to me that with each step that I venture out of my comfort zone it brings me a little closer to the truth of my being and realizing my true nature. Yet this is no easy task. My comfort zone is sticky. The closer I get to taking a step the stickier it gets and there is a tendency for me to want to zone out. Too much food and screen time can only distract for so long before I notice how incredible uncomfortable this comfort zone actually is. Then taking a step feels more like moving towards freedom.

This is why I haven’t written much this year. It took everything I had to take this big step. Blessings to you all on your own journey and if you hear that whisper, let yourself take a little or big step out of your comfort zone, whatever that may be for you.

Hibernating And Arriving

One more nudge was all that was needed for me to sit down and finally write another blog post. Having lost my camera charger towards the end of last year had put a halt to all my usual creative endeavours such as videos, blogs or my newsletter. After turning my cabin upside down and finally admitting defeat, I have ordered a replacement which has not yet arrived. There is a sense of loss every time I see something beautiful that I would love to capture and share with you. Taking photos with my outdated iPhone is not the same, but I have begun using it more and even appreciating it. 

However last night as I lay in bed looking back on the day and remembering the friendly nudge from someone asking when I would write a new blog post, I realized that it is time to let go of the excuse and make do with what I have. And I have a lot of photographs in my library and I have a phone. Come to think of it, maybe it’s time to dig out my old camera again considering I located two of its chargers in my desperate search.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like I am still arriving in the New Year: 2022. There seems to be space at this beginning to allow myself to do just that. I welcome this space and the slower tempo. The snow keeps me tugged in deep in the woods and so far this winter we have had a lot of power outages. In fact the power is out right now. I am sitting here in full winter gear, but the sun is shining on me creating some warmth and enough delight to recharge my creative batteries.

Deciding to make all my Christmas presents this year I picked up many of my past hobbies like knitting, crocheting and yesterday I even started using my little rigid heddle loom after a long pause. What a joy! All my wool is spread out over the floor inviting me with its endless possibilities. 

As I sort through the wool to see which I want to keep and which I will give away, I sense that I am sorting through layers of me to see which I want to keep and nurture and which are now time to let go. I am also combining knitting with weaving and crocheting with beading… trying new things and even creating some for sale to supplement my income. I deeply appreciate that I still remember many of the things I learnt as a child and honed over time and can now put to use again. And yet there is so much new to learn. I have to watch that I don’t get pulled into the amazing and also addictive online world which offers so much information and ideas.

One thing I really am grateful for is the discernment of what I spend my time on. It seems I am in a deep process of simplifying my life. And I have to say that I love it. Being without power and without water on and off for a quite a while now has let me to welcome this dark winter season in a much deeper way. I listen to the silence, I read, I journal, I speak to friends and clients, I get water at the well house or out of the ditch if it’s running. Noticing how my world and my mind is quieter I enjoy the simple task of washing dishes or sweeping the floor.

Maybe we are all heading towards a much simpler life, one that is more joyful as we choose with care what truly brings us that and learn contentment with less things but more love and real connection and a deep appreciation for nature and life.

Many blessings for this New Year to you! May it be filled with simplicity, joy, love, well-being and deep fulfillment!

Summer Bliss

Feeling the shock in my solar plexus of loosing everything that I just wrote I sit and stare at the empty screen. It is kind of funny to be noticing my own disbelief, the sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach as I press the UNDO button over and over again while hearing in my head: “What have I done?” .

Two hummingbirds come and hover around my head, one on each side. Maybe they are trying to balance my brain. I smile at the thought. Or perhaps they have come to comfort me, which is rather unlikely. But I do like the idea. They sure take my mind of what is no more and instead I breathe in the sweet summer air and enjoy the gentle buzzing as the little helicopter birds check out the colourful clothing hanging on the line. I strung up a long cord between the trees and it feels like I am sitting in a room with walls made of towels, bedding and clothing.

June’s unexpected heat wave brought back something that I didn’t know I had been missing. In my youth I would spend many days and hours just reading novels. Riding my bike to the beach or pool on those long hot summer days you would always find at least one book in my bag. Alternating between swimming and lying at the beach reading, life was full of simple pleasures and endless reading. The epic classics like War and Peace, Doctor Zhivago, Anna Karenina, Beyond Sing The Woods and many others opened my heart and mind to different worlds, different world views and of course the human journey in a story created by brilliant diverse writers.

With no escaping the incredible heat other than dipping into the lake or ocean I found myself with very little energy or motivation to even move in the last week of June. So I picked up a novel from the library and found myself reading for hours and hours till deep into the night not wanting to break the spell of the story. A visit to one of my neighbours who shares the love of reading resulted in bringing back a little more treasures. Just holding these books in my hands and turning the pages brought pleasure. It almost felt like I was slowly remembering an old part of me. How sweet it felt to drop the to-do list and instead read to my heart’s content for just the pure pleasure of it.

Sleeping outside most nights brought more magic. Drifting in and out of sleep only to see the sparkling sky every time I opened my eyes, while hearing the whales’ deep breathing and watching Grandmother Moon travel across the sky were also unexpected gifts. And one night the wind came and cooled me like no fan could. Finally I slept so deep I didn’t wake up till the sun was already high in the sky hidden behind clouds.

The cooler temperatures however brought an army of wasps. These great warriors do not let the hummingbirds return to their feeder and have chased me from the deck as well. I have moved my lounge chair and found a different spot to hang out and enjoy these beautiful summer days. Feeling deeply content with simple pleasures like dreaming up new variations of ice tea, finding more novels to order through the library or reading a good poem or two I pause to take in all this beauty.

I hope you are able to fully enjoy this summer and perhaps remember something that makes your heart sing. Sometimes just the memory is enough and other times we may dip our toes back into what we used to love.

And speaking of good poems, here is one that came to me this morning as I sat in the early morning light out on the bluff. I opened a book randomly and this was the poem that greeted me:

Rice

It grew in the black mud.

It grew under the tiger’s orange paws.

Its stems thinner than candles, and as straight.

Its leaves like the feathers of egrets, but green.

The grains cresting, wanting to burst.

Oh, blood of the tiger.

I don’t want you just to sit down at the table.

I don’t want you just to eat, and be content.

I want you to walk out into the fields

where the water is shining, and the rice has risen.

I want you to stand there, far from the white tablecloth.

I want you to fill your hands with the mud, like a blessing.

~ by Mary Oliver (from her book “Devotions”)

And off to the garden I go….

Perfectly Imperfect

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.