Letting go of Toilet Paper....

Fellow Earthlings,

Are you feeling it?

Panic, chaos, viruses, crazy leaders, tornadoes, school closures, no hand sanitizer and no toilet paper...these are the topics of the emails and articles coming through from afar. I feel removed and separate and it reminds me of a dream I had where I saw what was going on, but was not part of it. More about that later.

Truthfully, it's weird to be out here in Sequim already quarantined in nature. I'm out here with the eagles, hawks, deer, seals, crabs, salmon, elk. In fact, sometimes they are the only beings I come into contact with on any given day.

I'm teaching an online class at the college, so actually, I don't need to meet students and risk getting exposed. The coronavirus has taken 11 lives in Washington State and 70 people have been infected and that number is expected to rise. Governor Inslee has called a state of emergency in Washington State. My colleagues at the college are scrambling to make arrangements with their students for the end of the quarter because they may not be able to finish the quarter with their students. We are waiting to see if our college closes.

But out here, things move slowly. Since I moved out here in December, this land has been calling me to stop and TUNE IN. Whenever I have big plans to get things done, the land calls me to put it all aside and get outside. It's not that I don't get things done, it's that my plans are often interrupted by nature's schedule. If I wake up and it's sunny, I put my shoes on and go. I want to be down on Dungeness Spit breathing in the salty air and hearing the waves roar. While I'm walking, I often close my eyes and drink it all in with my entire body. I breathe in the sun, sand, wind, salt, breeze, clouds, waves and bird calls. My body vibrates with all of it. I feel stripped down to the core essentials out here.

After hiking at the Spit today, I headed to my bank to cash a check and decided to stock up on some food. I hadn't been to the store in a few days and truthfully, I didn't really want to be amongst shoppers who all had the potential of being carriers of this disease. Every time I'd hear a cough, it would propel me to wander away from whatever aisle I was on to one that was empty or sparsely populated. I'm trying not to buy into the fear, but it's there. I'd like to believe it hasn't made its way to Sequim, but my answer was there in the hand sanitizer section where I stopped in front of a gaping hole of nothingness. Same with the toilet paper section. I'd have to let those go for now.

Back in my car, I took 5th Ave past Old Olympic Highway to Evans Road. I passed trumpeter swans breeding in a nearby field of a farm with a worn-out red barn. Not a single car passed me on those roads. I turned left on Dungeness-Sequim Highway and then a right on Woodcock Road making my way past Graysmarsh Farm, a huge estate that seems to go on forever and where you can pick blueberries and strawberries in the summer, but not much is happening there right now.

I often wonder what I'm doing out here. I'm 50 years old and I'm living at home. That's the stuff people talk over fences in hushed voices with their neighbors about and here I am doing it, without toilet paper even. What has the world come to? What have I come to?

On the outside, things may look dire. But on the inside I feel this unbelievable gratitude for my life and I feel the earth vibrate with an incredible goodness. I feel the wildlife on it calling everyone to stop and listen. I feel I am a witness to this language that has no words. I move with the wind. I feel the rhythm of the earth out here. I feel the native energy. Nearby my family's house is the grave of Native American Chief Lord James Balch. There's a huge eagle totem there to honor him. He was one of the first natives to pool money together with fellow tribesmen to purchase 210 acres that is known as Jamestown. It's not a reservation, it's owned by the natives. I walk past this great chief's grave to the beach frequently. The energy is so strong around there. And I have dreams of a world that is calling us back to our origin. It's calling us back to when we listened and knew. Yes, I'm remembering this language that has no words. It comes to me in dreams.

I am not going crazy, but the world might be. I'm stopping and I'm listening and I'm hearing.

In January, there was a snowstorm that hit The Peninsula quite hard. I was alone out in Sequim. The wind was howling through the trees and shaking the windows. Right before the power went out, I found a dream I wrote on paper about the end of the world. Minutes after I finished reading it, everything went dark. I felt along the wall to the living room where I knew I had candles and matches and I  lit candles all around the room and lit the gas fireplace. I was warm inside, but I wanted to feel the swirl of nature outside, at least for a few minutes. I stepped out into the howling wind and felt cold snowflakes hit my face. I was barefoot on the deck. I could see the glowing red eyes of deer huddled under pine trees. They had been sleeping there in front of the house for a month unafraid. I felt their presence daily and knew they had messages for me. Back inside, I piled blankets on top of me and huddled in front of the gas fire place and read my dream again.

I have lost the piece of paper with the dream on it. I know it's somewhere. Anyway, here's the gist of it:

People were in a panic. There was some kind of tsunami happening and waves were crashing all around and buildings were falling down. People were running through the streets screaming and police cars were zooming around with their sirens blaring, but I was inside an old cave watching all of this from afar as if watching it on a movie screen. It was real and in front of me, but I was not part of the madness. An old man with a very long beard, I imagine Confucius to look like, was sitting cross-legged in the dirt also watching. Just then I grabbed a stick and began to draw a line in the dirt. I drew two inches forward and three inches backwards. My hand moved effortlessly and I don't recall I knew what I was doing with my logical mind or even if I was doing it. The old man bowed to me and told me it was about balancing the planet. I felt very calm and collected and sure that things would work out and rebalance. There was nothing to do, it was more about be-ing.

I don't believe it is about magic or miracles or anything out of the ordinary. I just believe it's about tuning in and listening. Most of our lives we move in the way our fellow humans move. If one person panics, we all begin to panic. What if we didn't panic and follow the crowd, but chose to really stop and listen deep within and move from there? What if we allowed our deep inner experiences to guide us on the outside rather than allowing the outside to dictate our inner state. I'm letting my inner compass guide me out here. I'm completely unafraid. I trust things will work out even if everything looks like it's falling apart and more importantly, even if there's no more toilet paper.

Going Deep at Dawn

Hello fellow Earthlings,

It's 2020. Doesn't that sound like science fiction? Given that I came to the Earth in this present body in 1969 in Earth years, the year Neil Armstrong walked on the moon (THE MOON!), 2020 sounds even more OUT THERE.  And what can I say? Have we gotten more Sci Fi? Have we destroyed this planet yet?

Not yet, friends, not yet. I could never have imagined that I'd be typing my thoughts into a computer for others to read. And these strange things called Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. We live our lives with our head in devices. Devices. gadgets that are meant to make our lives easier. I will admit, my iPhone has become part of my right hand. I'm not going to toss it in the ocean. It would take millions of year for it to decompose.

I woke up at dawn. My boyfriend was snoring away on his futon he brought out here. We were on different cycles last night. He came in late from Seattle after working a full day and all he wanted to do was grab a beer and lock himself away with Netflix. I had very different plans for the New Year. I wanted to go into it with eyes wide open. No alcohol or glass clinking for me last night. You could say it was a pretty silent night and it was very intentional.

I did a vision board for the New Year. I do one every new year, but this year my vision seemed particularly important. I'm getting a HUGE sign to let go of things that do not serve me any longer. Maybe it's because I'm now 50, I don't know? A girlfriend who turned 50 five years ago or so said, "It was like I was walking through a doorway and could only bring a few things, the rest I'd have to let go of." That's how I feel.

So what am I bringing into the New Year that serves me? Love for myself and my direction and goals, love for the earth, love for my partner, family and friends, good health, abundance, travel, a house of my own, book writing and book completion, creation of my own website with online classes, retreats and readings. First and foremost is being here NOW in Sequim, Washington and finishing my book. Well, and blogging...

At dawn I pulled on my jeans from the day before, a puffy long, powder blue jacket, scarf, hat, gloves and red rain boots and headed out into the darkness. It was as if the sound of the waves out on Dungeness Spit was drawing me to it like a magnet. Before leaving, I asked my boyfriend, "Do you want to come with me down to The Spit?" He mumbled something that was clearly an indication that he wanted to sleep more, so off I went.

I drove down Woodcock Road and turned right on Dungeness Spit Drive heading past red barns and cattle and green fields with the Olympic Mountains as a backdrop. The sun was starting show signs of itself and I was in a hurry to get to the sea. I was the first car in the parking lot. I have an annual pass to The Spit. It's the longest spit of sand in the U.S. and if you walk the entire thing down to the light house and back, it would be a total of 10 miles. I have yet to do that, but I will.

I decided to take the primitive trail through the woods down to the sea. I could hear the waves crashing on the shore in the distance and I had one thing in mind. I wanted to be down by the waves. I wanted them to pound through me and shake me wide open. I wanted the undertow to take with it all of the unwanted in me and the world. Take my anger, take my fights with my boyfriend about finances, take toxic people's comments, take all the disbeliefs, take hatred, take avoidance, take addictions, take pollution and human consumption, take all the ill of the world out into the swells and break them down, smooth them out and return to the shore the light, the kindness and the highest good.

A bit idealistic, isn't it Kathy? I thought out loud. My thoughts were forming their own swells in my mind as I walked at rapid speed over the damp, moist earth through a thicket of pine trees. I walked so fast I nearly trampled over a doe and her fawn. They stared at me through those big eyes. They were as still as stones and I became still too. My stillness made them comfortable and they stayed cleaning each other and munching on vegetation in the woods. They were so close I could touch them.

I carried on and eventually the primative trail spit me out at the ocean. Not a soul was in sight and the waves were so huge they devoured the entire walking area of the beach. I thought about turning around, but they called me to them. They called me out on The Spit where I had to walk very close to the roped off area that separated the beach from the bird sanctuary. Ocean spray covered my jacket and moved like lava up over logs and over my red boots. Salt from the water was in my hair and eyes and mouth. I wanted, in a weird way, to be consumed my those waves. Maybe I secretly wanted them to TAKE ME out into their swells and churn me through their underbellies smoothing me out like a stone with perfect rings around it that a fellow hiker might pick up and skip out into the quiet sea making new wishes for the new year.

A rainbow appeared in a cloud across from The Spit, illuminating the land on the other side. Snow mountains sat like majestic watchers of the land off to my left. The sun rose on the bird sanctuary side of The Spit slowly illuminating it from the lighthouse to where I stood. Majestic. All of it.

No, we weren't in danger of destroying the Earth. We were in danger of destroying ourselves and all the earth wants us to do is listen. I heard the squawking of an eagle overhead and looked straight up to catch a glimpse of it as it disappeared through the trees. I was alone on this thin stretch of sand with waves thundering against the earth.

In those moments, I felt cleansed and alive. I knew I would move forward no matter what. There was nothing stopping these waves. They were unforgiving and relentless in their will. They moved with force and purpose. And standing there, I knew I would do the same.

A Bridge to Another World

Dear Fellow Earthlings,

 Last night I dreamt that I was in Europe and got an opportunity to take a trip to a very mystical place. My friends had only one extra ticket and invited me. I can't be sure of the country, but it was snowy and cold, so the place felt a bit like Sweden or Norway or.....Narnia? My friends picked me up in a neighboring country and we drove over the border and high up in the snowy mountains towards a castle that was on an island. In order to visit this castle, we had to cross a bridge thousands of feet above the frozen water below. This was fine, except the bridge was made entirely of snow and it was very narrow. Only one car could pass at a time and there were no guardrails. Just setting out to cross this bridge could mean an untimely death, yet the castle on the other side was something not to be missed and the snow bridge itself, on the way to the castle, was celestial. We decided to risk it. The car swerved a bit on the bridge and many times we came very close to the edge. I remember feeling my heart in my throat looking down over the edge while watching snow fall. We did eventually get to the other side, but I don't remember much of the dream after that. I think the journey getting there was more interesting than the actual place.

Perhaps this dream is a metaphor for life and maybe a metaphor for my life right now, particularly. I can feel that I'm about to walk out on the edge again. I can feel I will complete my next book....finally. I have a ways to go, but I have carved out 4-5 days a week to work on it starting in January. I am afraid, actually, that I won't finish it and it is so important to me to do so. In fact, I have two books I'm working on simultaneously, one is the first book in a trilogy of fiction books and the other is a memoir or somewhat of a sequel to my first book. It takes so much energy to put myself out there again. Sometimes it feels like crossing a bridge that will never end. It's so much easier just to stay in my comfort zone and not do it, but I also feel it's the most important work I will do and have done. The memoir is calling me the strongest and I feel it will inform my trilogy series, so I would like to finish the memoir first.

I've been a bit melancholy. This turning-clocks-forward thing is getting me down. At 4:00pm, it's practically dark outside. I couldn't take just sitting inside when I got off from work, so I pulled off my work clothes and slipped into jeans and my down jacket and walked to Whole Foods for dinner and then upstairs to East West Bookshop for an astrology reading. The woman there confirmed that I would finish my book(s) and that they would be successful, but that it would be work and I'd have to stay focused.

 It's been a little over a month since I've turned 50. Today I found a video of a Kickstarter I created 10 days before my 45th birthday. I was still married then. In the Kickstarter, I asked friends and family to donate to help me be able to take time off to write. I never put it out there.

Perhaps there was just too much going on with my life? In fact, less than a year after making that video, my marriage fell apart and instead of moving forward, I went into a deep, dark cave of grief. I had felt so much confidence and the end of my marriage set me way back.

Over the last 4 years, however, I've made  huge leaps and bounds in my life. I created a new character, Venus on Fire, and performed a burlesque show in front of dozens of strangers on Capitol Hill in Seattle, I made a new boyfriend, I set up a psychic business and have taught many intuitive writing classes. I left my Seattle home that I shared with my ex-husband for almost 13 years and I've lived in Hawaii and traveled to Australia, New Zealand, Italy, France and Switzerland. In Italy, I co-led a retreat in Tuscany with 9 people. I did Pet Sitting in Port Townsend, Seattle and Italy. I have lived in my co-worker's basement apartment for a little over a year and I will move to my mom's in Sequim on December 15th for the winter to write and teach one class mostly online. Who knows where I will go after that?

I am moving forward and doing all the things I've dreamed of. In fact, often my dreams are so clear that they truly inform my waking life. I feel the Hood Canal Bridge on my way to Sequim could very well be that bridge to another world. I feel my life WILL open in more ways than I can imagine. I'm moving forwards. It's not a question of IF and not even a question of WHEN. It's happening RIGHT NOW. I'm on THAT bridge! There's no going back....