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 Taking photos with my outdated iPhone is not the same, but I have begun using it more and even appreciating it.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!

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In The Softness

 

This morning I pulled a card from my beautiful new Yantra Deck, the Art of Being Present, that I found in Nelson, BC, on my little road trip. The card was ‘Simplicity’ and it inspired the following journal entry, which I would like to share with you on this Thanksgiving Day here in Canada:

“I love being in the here and now, immersing myself in the peacefulness that I find beneath the busyness of my mind. The soothing freshly brewed nettle tea brings warmth to the inside, while the crackling fire in wood stove wraps me in its warmth on the outside.

Life feels so simple in this moment and so full, as Raven glides by, clucking its unique sound in agreement perhaps. The ‘trying to figure it all out’ mind has receded into the background for now. I can tune into it if I wish, but I don’t, staying instead in the contentment felt in this moment, where breath, sounds, the beauty around me, all call gently for my attention, just as the hand holding this pen glides softly across the page, mirroring the softness I feel on the inside.

I’ve been noticing it a lot lately: this softness, when I yield to what is in the moment, rather than resist or try to change or stop what is happening. Allowing all the emotions and the changes to occur in me, in my life and in the world has somehow brought me into this more open, vulnerable state of acceptance, allowing and embracing the not having any answers. As I soften to whatever arises, I discover the joy of  my heart opening to receive it all.  In this softness I can hear a whisper “All is well”. I hear my mind faintly protesting in the backseat while my eyes fill with grateful tears: Yes! All is well!”

Happily giving thanks for this moment and all it contains, especially this softness and love permeating from the inside and coming to me in so many forms and disguises on the outside. Giving thanks for life, each breath, each moment, each opportunity to discover, receive and express love and life, meeting and welcoming it as it is, not as I want it to be.

Sweet hummingbird comes and looks at me through the window, bringing more tears of gratitude and joy to my eyes. And with that image of beauty in motion left behind by hummingbird like a soft imprint on my heart, I want to come to your window of awareness and say Thank you for your offering of your love and presence in this world.

Wishing everyone a “Happy Thanksgiving!”