Before arriving in Pemberton in early May, I thought I’d hike on the trails every morning with my dog.
I haven’t.
I thought I’d mountain bike at least four to five times a week.
I haven’t.
I thought I’d write a blog post every few days.
I haven’t.
I thought a lot of things about what this would be like.
It hasn’t been those things.
This is most definitely not about failure nor unmet expectations.
It’s about embodying where I am.
It’s been peaceful.
I’m not only surrounded by nature, I am in nature, becoming nature.
The spaciousness and expansiveness here is palpable.
Yet I feel tucked in, with a comfortable blanket of green trees and blue sky.
And it’s taken this long, this whole time here in this place, to relax enough to be able to write.
To have the energy of this space woven within and around me.
It permeates my being in its slowness, its innate sense of natural timing.
Nothing is forced.
It is now that I am ready to write again.
Just in time to leave this place.
* * *
The writing above was inspired by reading a passage this morning from my favourite Canadian author, Richard Wagamese.
In honour of National Indigenous Peoples Day, this writing is dedicated to the essence of him and his potent and tangible expression, the depth and significance of Indigenous cultures and history, storytelling, Spirit, and the land we live on and become.
* * *
As I said, we’re leaving this place soon.
We will be driving north to Whitehorse, Yukon in the coming weeks.
I do love a good road trip. But I also get ungrounded and feel unsettled with so much change.
The written piece above that leaked through me this morning, this collaboration of myself and nature and Spirit, offers me a nugget of what is to come.
It offers me guidance on how I can embody where I am, as we move north, as a way to stay grounded within all the change.
Spirit adds,
‘Keep coming back home to the place you’re in.
And keep writing.’
