Reflections of 2020: Following Nature's Pulse

 

For me personally, when I tune into nature and let it be my teacher and guide, I find most of the answers I seek. Nature is highly intuitive, so it makes sense that my own intuition would be heightened in nature and my own personal vibration would be higher by merely tuning into my environment. Reflecting on 2020, I chose nature over news. Some may think this is crazy. How could I have possibly avoided the news?  It was everywhere. The truth is, I got it all without needing to watch it all. I was and am aware of what is going on. I found that when I watched news images, it put me in a place of fear and helplessness and I did not feel empowered. I chose to focus inward more and it helped me immensely during a time that was and is difficult for many. Instead of getting battered by the waves on the ocean, I chose to dive deep down where things were quiet. And not so surprisingly, I was able to help others during this tumultuous time from this place of balance and peace.

Instinctively, I chose to move away from Seattle in December 2019 and move to Sequim, Washington, to my parents' house. They were in Arizona for the winter and spring. This was a few months before the pandemic hit. I also arranged to teach online at my college for winter quarter without intellectually understanding that I'd be the first in my college department to be teaching a mostly online class several months before we'd all have to be online. Spring quarter, after the pandemic hit, I'd be asked to assist teachers in navigating online classes. I felt happy to serve in this way and to serve students from many different countries, some who found themselves alone in a country that was not theirs in the midst of a pandemic.

It wasn't a surprise that during this difficult time, I was surrounded by the incredible and nurturing beauty of Nature. I sensed what was coming and there were clear markers along the way and in my dreams that I've written about on this blog that perhaps prepared me in some way to be where I was.

There was a lot of work I was meant to do out there. I connected to the Native energy and frequently meditated, played my elk drum, met with other like-minded individuals online.

 On this blog in March, I wrote a Healing for the Earth series for one full month and guest healers/psychics also wrote posts. Down the street from my parents' house is Jamestown beach and the grave of Chief James Balch, a Native of the S'Klallam tribe. I frequently walked on that beach and played my elk drum down there by the Eagle Totem Pole. I made a medicine wheel on the beach made of shells and branches. Eagles frequently flew over me while I sat there on a log. Something unexplainable was happening. Healing on a level that I didn't fully understand with my limited human brain was taking place. I wasn't the only one doing this work. There were millions doing the work in both the physical and spiritual realms. There were people chanting, meditating and praying. Things were SHIFTING RAPIDLY. Many Earthlings were going through crises of all kinds. Some that I know are no longer on this Earth plane. Some worked the front lines in hospitals. Some barely made it through day to day living. I chose to hold steadfast to Nature. One morning I woke up and decided to hike the entire 11 miles of Dungeness Spit to the lighthouse. I got there at low tide mid-afternoon and did not return until the sun went down and the moon rose. I was the last soul on the beach that night and trekked through the last stretch of forest alone in the dark. I still remember the sea lion that emerged from the water at sunset, as if to say, "Hello!"

 There's a rhythm in nature that soothes me. There's a life force that follows an order so high that nothing can mimic or duplicate it. Through technology, humans have somehow lost touch with this pulse that has so much wisdom. Our ancestors knew of this wisdom. They understood the wind, the stars, the moons cycles. They knew how to find food and how to create shelter. They respected the land and even respected the animals they killed and ate. There was reverence for everything in Nature. Now, Nature is there to serve us, not teach us. 

In May 2020, my family returned to Sequim and I tried to move into my boyfriend's house in the city, but the city was too harsh for me with its traffic and noise and excess of human consumption. I think perhaps I'd gotten rather sensitive to being close to nature and it felt like quite an assault to the system to try to go back. So in June, I rented a cottage on Whidbey Island and in July I rented a tiny house in Port Townsend. I was back on the other side of the pond close to beaches and old growth forests. There, I continued to do the work I had done in Sequim. I swam in Discovery Bay and biked the Discovery Trail all the way to Port Angeles. I ate wild berries and picked wild flowers and sat outside in the grass staring at millions of stars. I communed with herons and eagles and hawks. The deer made frequent appearances. I wasn't off-grid, but I might as well have been. I continued to teach online through my college. My boyfriend would come on weekends from the city and he'd always feel so energized from the Nature in each place I stayed. Because I chose to live in smaller towns, I did not encounter as many people as I would in the city. I could hike freely sometimes without meeting a soul. This was a luxury, I realize now. 

As August was fast approaching, I knew I needed a change. I didn't want to settle into my boyfriend's place in the city AND his place was going to be torn down anyway to widen the road for, guess what??  MORE CARS! So we made a big decision. We decided to pack up his truck and I sold my car and we drove across country on September 2nd to Cape Cod, Massachusetts, his home town.

 We rented a house in the off-season on the Lower Cape. It's wild and more primitive out here. We are literally living on a sand bar with only 3 miles of land between the bay and the Atlantic Ocean. Nature is not to be messed with out here. This is where the pilgrims landed. This is where many shipwrecks have occurred. The wind and the waves ask you to move with them, not against them. I've seen the wind have its way with birds that lay dead on the shore. I've seen red foxes in my yard and sea turtles in the dunes. Recently a dead dolphin washed ashore on our beach. Most likely it was hunting fish and got caught in low tide. I've seen waves freeze from air so cold it bites right through your skin. I've experienced 70-mile-an-hour gusts of wind out here that shook my windows so strongly I was sure they'd break. I've also seen the ocean like glass, soft and welcoming even in early November, when I kicked off my sandals and sank into its smooth folds, letting it envelop me in its deliciousness. I've biked and walked and kayaked my way around this spit of sand. I don't have a car out here, so those are my modes of transportation, unless I drive my boyfriend to work in his truck so I can have the car for a day. He's working for his college friend as a carpenter out here. He repairs beach steps and builds decks and fixes trim for people with summer homes that are no longer here. I'm still teaching online for my college back in Washington. I feel blessed to be able to do that and be able to live in such a wild nature place. It's the best of both worlds.

For me 2020 has been all about Nature. I can't really sum up all that I've tuned into. From the ladybugs that are found crawling into the house to escape the cold to the sunsets that burn the sky red and orange to freezing waves and whipping winds. This place calls me outside constantly, no matter what the weather is doing. It calls me to tune more into IT and less into what is happening in the news on the BOXES THAT WE WATCH—TVs, computers, cell phones. That's not where my attention has been this year.  Maybe I've missed out? Maybe I don't know what's really going on?

But when I turn to Nature, I feel more informed than I ever have been. I feel at peace and at ease and I feel guided. I see signs and symbols everywhere and my intuition is strong. I wait for my next move like an eagle waiting high in a tree to swoop down and catch a fish. From up there, the view is WIDE. I'm able to sense and see more. I come from Nature after all, so it makes sense to me to follow Nature's pulse.

Healing for the Earth, Day 6: Go Outside

Hello fellow Earthlings,

How are you doing today? Today marks 6 days of writing here everyday. That's almost a week. I still wonder how I did TWO full years of writing a blog post every single day. Whoa! Sometimes I feel like abandoning this plan to write for a month. It's hard to keep going sometimes. I don't always feel wonderful. Sometimes I also feel lonely, sad, overwhelmed. lazy, worthless, etc. But when I get outside, I am able to release many heavy things that I'm feeling. Here's a little video for all y'all about my time outside and some messages for you too!

Today, at around 2pm, I really felt like I needed to JUST GET OUTSIDE and everything would change. When I'm outside, I feel this expansiveness that seems to give space to all these emotions that I'm feeling. The fresh air, sun, smell of pine, butterflies, bees, waves, sand between my toes, etc. really helps. All of these things in nature nurture me so much. They give me a place to rest the restlessness and unease that I sometimes feel. If I can just get myself outside, I feel better.

Today, while walking down to the beach, I saw many families and couples. Lots of couples were holding hands, so happy to be together in the sun. During this time on social distancing, I really miss physical touch. I REALLY miss my boyfriend out here, but he hasn't been able to come out all week and possibly not this coming weekend either because he's working a lot, which is good.

Being in community is so important. Man (or woman) is not an island. It's important for us Earthlings to be in community and help each other. We are all in this together, yet it's easy to feel lonely. I felt that today. I felt like I could really use some social interaction that did not involve a computer or a phone. Do you know what I mean???

Being outside felt as close as I could get to really feeling connected. If I couldn't connect with friends, family or my boyfriend, at least I could connect with nature and celebrate the other people down on the beach with their loved ones enjoying!

After walking down the beach a bit, I found a place to hunker down in the sand between logs near the bird sanctuary. I actually took off my boots and socks and felt the sand between my toes. I lay down with my head on a log and let the sun beat down on my face bringing me back to days when I use to sunbathe in Florida with friends. I love that feeling. I could have stayed on the beach today forever, it felt so good, but I put my boots back on and made my way down the beach a bit further before turning around.

The sun was high and children were running around chasing waves in their bare feet, screaming with excitement. Lovers kissed on beach blankets. It was hard to believe we were in a crisis. It was hard to believe that our world is going through something big right now because people seemed happy and joyful for the moment.

On the way back home, I drove along the beach and saw an eagle high up in a pine tree. All the cherry blossoms are out. It's definitely spring. I'm glad I went outside today.

Healing for the Earth, Day 4: You are an Important Thread in the Web of the EARTH

Good evening fellow EARTHLINGS!

How are y'all on this fine evening?

 I made a little video for you.

 Perhaps, at this juncture in time, you are feeling lots of different emotions. Maybe you are feeling lonely, sad, helpless, afraid or just plain nervous. Or maybe you feel happy to have a bit of time on your hands to just BE. Or maybe you feel overwhelmed or underwhelmed or overstimulated or under-stimulated.

Whatever you are feeling, I want to tell you that YOU ARE IMPORTANT! AND you are right where you need to be doing just what you need to do, even if you don't think or feel this way.

Today I hit a bit of a wall. I've been alone for a week. All my friends are on the other side of the pond in Seattle, a ferry boat ride away. I'm out here with all the wild animals and Native Spirits, but I miss my community and actually giving hugs and looking into my fellow Earthlings sweet eyes. We are all in this together, aren't we? Now is the time to let go of the grudges. Now is not the time to judge or debate or disagree. Now is the time to come together (THINK WOODSTOCK ONLINE....lol....now there's an idea!) Now is the time to honor yourself deeply for all your foibles and to tenderly, lovingly sit with that part of you that might need some love.

It was a little bit more of a productive today. I got a lot of work done for my job at the college. I taught a class online this winter and now my skills will be needed to help teachers start the spring quarter online, as we will not be starting any classes in the classroom due to the virus.

Around 6pm, I thought I need to get out of here and get myself to a beach! It was a beautiful day ALL day, but I felt like I needed to get work done. The sun was starting to set, so I grabbed my silver-blue puffy jacket and slipped on my red boots and headed out to Jamestown Beach. The tide is always way out this time of the evening and I was excited to have my boots on this time because I wanted to walk out in the tide pools. The birds were going nuts. They were cackling and cawing and tweeting and twittering with joy, it seemed, to have this all-you-can-eat shellfish buffet right there on the sandbars. An eagle landed in a huge pine tree at the edge of the shore and made its gorgeous call out to the world from its perch. The sky was streaked with lines, reminding me of threads—white puffy cloud threads going in all different directions.

I thought, we are all threads, each one of us so important to the whole and it reminded me of the quote by Chief Sealth, for whom Seattle was named:

"Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect."—Chief Seattle, Duwamish

You are important, each one of YOU! Remember that. You are on the EARTH for a reason.

Much ALOHA to all of YOU! Keep on keeping on and love each other. You are doing great!

Love,
Katherine

Healing for the Earth, DAY ONE: Walk Gently on the Earth

Hello fellow Earthlings,

Here is a message from my walk today through the woods towards Dungeness Spit in Sequim, Washington.

I've been called to write a daily month-long series called "Healing for the Earth," which includes ALL Earthlings and other beings on it. Here's my DAY ONE message for YOU!

Last night, I came back to Sequim after a few days in the Seattle area. Right away, I felt a pull to get very quiet and meditate. The energy out here is so strong and I'd like to share it with all of you. I am in a monthly Vision Circle with other like-minded souls who come together to drum for peace, love and harmony for each other and the planet. I created my own elk drum with River, who leads that group. It's interesting that my drum is made from elk hide as Sequim is the home of a large herd of elk.

I am a psychic and I'm able to channel. These are two things I haven't fully been able to own in public, but I've decided to own them here. I'm extremely sensitive to energy and I often pick up on very subtle vibrations. I often know when deer are near when I'm inside the house and I can feel sea animals, like seals, sea lions and whales, under the water out on Dungeness Spit. I know they are there and they often come up to the surface when I face the water and we have a few moments together. I'm aware of a very strong Native American energy here and feel the ancestors of Jamestown nearby. When I drum, they gather and I receive messages.

Last night I drummed for about 1 hour. I could feel the animals of the Earth and feel a Native American presence. I could feel that, as many have predicted, the Earth is going through a shift. It can not carry on as it has been. This shift is happening on a very deep level. It's asking each Earthling to drop inward and listen. It's calling Earthlings to experience and find answers within nature and in silence. It's calling for Earthlings to reduce or let go of technology. The answers are in nature and the natural elements of nature. It's calling us to RAISE the vibration by dropping inward.

Last night, I was instructed to burn sage and also to gather salt, particularly Himalayan salt, which is actually a crystal called Pink Halite and has similar properties to Rose Quartz. It's known to release negative ions in your environment which purify the air. I grounded this salt last night and mixed it with hot water and drank it. I felt energy and clarity in my lungs and throat. I turned on my salt lamp in the evening and I also have a night light with Himalayan salt pieces in it that has an immediate calming affect on me.

This morning I felt a pull to Dungeness Spit. The mountains and deer were out and the sun was so bright. Here's a picture from my walk on The Spit today:

 Before I left, I drew a card from my Earth Magic Oracle deck the I got at Breitenbush Hotsprings in Oregon. Each card displays beautiful art connected to the Earth and a message with each picture. I drew GREEN MAN which I found so appropriate because tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day and also because the message on the card is so pertinent to our times. Here's the photo and here's what the literature says about the card:

Green Man reminds us of the incredible synergy required for Gaia to maintain her delicate and dynamic balance among the various beings on the planet....We witness this (synergy) in the complex and cooperative interaction between plants, humans and animals.

And here is the message:

A flow of life is guiding you, where things seem to fall into place as you move about your business. You are in a mutually cooperative interaction with Spirit, as your will is aligned with the will of Spirit, and your mission in congruent with your sense of purpose. When this is happening, there is a synergy, a way that your life force is continually coming into balance with the forces of Nature.

Yes, I feel this. Nature is guiding me out here and is available at any time for anyone. I feel like the messages are everywhere! On the beach in the sun lying against a log, I picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through my fingers, fall and become part of the many grains that were already there. I feel we are in a time of letting go of FEAR and expanding and being more part of this Earth which we inhabit by being loving and walking gently upon her. She is such a gift to us.

Peace + Love + and Harmony to all of you, my fellow Earthlings. Until tomorrow.....

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.

The Lucky One

Hello fellow Earthlings,

I'm cut off from most social media out in Sequim. In fact, it's hard for me to get phone service where I am.

 I went into the city early on Wednesday for my class at the college and spent the night at a friend's in Greenwood. It was nice being in my old, familiar stomping grounds of Seattle, but the pace was also intense. Everything in the city has been created to make humans comfortable. I walk into Whole Foods and it's like walking into Las Vegas, only with food. In fact, I swear I heard some sort of electronic sound that seemed to mimic a winning on a slot machine.

The day after my class, the creature comforts were actually welcome. I didn't have much to do that day and I found myself browsing in East West Bookshop above Whole Foods. I walked around and looked at native jewelry and picked up tarot card decks and sat in the back with a book from the Used Book section of the store.

Then, I wandered back down to Whole Foods and drank a Kombucha and filled out a Valentine's Day Card for my boyfriend. He just got a new place in the city. Originally, the plan was for him to move to Sequim with me, but all his work is in the Seattle area, so it made more sense for him to be there. It's strange, we are in a relationship, but I hardly see him. I will see him tomorrow. I bought him a housewarming gift for his new place. It's good that he has a place in the city, because it makes it easier for me when I'm in town and need a place to stay.

Whenever I come back to Sequim, out here on the Peninsula of Washington State, everything slows way down. It's hard for me to move at a fast pace. I feel like there is a lot of healing going on here. I haven't written as much as I've wanted to. I feel I will write more, but I've been called to pay deep attention to each moment.

Today the sun outside pulled me towards The Spit and I walked way down the beach late in the afternoon. The waves were calm and the tide was out. It was pleasant and warm. My heart loves the ocean. It comes alive there. I like looking at the vastness of it. It's like looking at emptiness.

I took a stick I found on the beach and began to draw words in the sand: book, house, love. After I wrote these words, I enjoyed watching the gentle waves roll up on to the beach and erase them. Just like that they were gone, out to sea.

And I feel like the lucky one to have this time. Somehow in this life I'm living I have created time for inner work. It's so valuable to me. In fact, it's the most important work I'm doing. It's very subtle. Sometimes it feels I'm doing nothing at all and wasting time, but when I slow down, I can actually feel so much happening on the inside.

I move as slow as the animals move out here. Did you know that when you slow down and feel each movement, wild animals will come very close? You are moving at their speed. They can sense your gentleness. You are speaking their language.

I want to speak the language of the Earth.

I'm in a comfortable house out here that protects me from the outside. Today I received a text from a friend who I hadn't heard from in a very long time. He didn't write any words, he just sent me a link to Alison Krauss's song "The Lucky One." And when I listen to the words, I can really feel that this is my life.

You're the lucky one so I've been told
As free as the wind blowing down the road
Loved by many, hated by none
I'd say you are lucky 'cause 
You know what you've done
Not a care in the world, not a worry in sight
Everything is gonna be alright 'cause 
You're the lucky one....

It's not that life is easy or without problems. There are problems. The world can be fierce and crazy sometimes and, like the waves out on The Spit which can take everything in their wake, it can toss and turn us and leave us flat on our asses, pardon my French.

But deep under that ocean is a calm. It's available at any time. All the dramas in the world are the waves. They just keep coming.

Instead of letting these dramas, or waves, get stuck in me, I'm experimenting with letting them wash over me and not suck me out to sea.

I want to ride the waves, not fight them.

I'm working with boundaries and what feels right to me in any given moment and I'm not afraid anymore of the uncomfortableness that it creates to speak my truth.

I stepped out onto the deck of the house at around 10pm because I heard coyotes howling. I was barefoot and the cold against my skin woke me up. Is it a full moon? I wondered. I saw the big dipper, it was straight up and down so that the dipper was pointing towards the earth as if it were pouring its sparkly brilliance onto the green grass of the golf course. I then walked out the front door in search of the moon. No moon. All was quiet in the small suburb where I am staying. There were lights shining from windows in all the little houses and I imagined people were snug and warm inside. How lucky we all are to have food, shelter, hot water, etc. Most of us have the essentials and the rest is icing on the cake.

We are not here to own and fight and worry and fear. We are passing through this place to love and to  learn lessons and then we will return to that great big ocean that we came from, all of us drops of it.

We are the lucky ones to be here and have this opportunity to be alive.

We are the lucky ones...

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.