Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Nothing to Fear

"Storms don't come teach us painful lessons rather they were meant to wash us clean."—Sharon L. Alder

 

Dear fellow Earthlings, 

So much is going on in the world and I have recently received a strong call to go off Facebook and get off social media. I don't watch news, I don't interact with what is going on in current events. I follow my intuition and my intuition told me to go 'offline.' The only thing I keep here is my blog. 

The Earth and the beings living upon the Earth are going through a massive transformation. The way we do things is changing. The old systems are crumbling and as this happens, my guides have let me know that SELF CARE is of UTMOST importance right now. Being very aware of how I spend my time and how I spend my energy is going to be important in the coming months. 

At night, I know I am doing work. I can't explain exactly. When I wake up, I usually can't remember much, but I know I am working on the astral plane for the good of others.

Sometimes this work is heavy and it leaves me feeling tired or overwhelmed and even lethargic on the physical plane. I get irritated easy and find there is no time for things anymore. It feels like there is so much to do in the material world, but I can't get a grasp on all of it.

This tells me that my mind is occupied with more things than I know. Perhaps my storage is full and I need to delete some files. 

I channel and get messages. I am an intuit and I do psychic readings for people. I have done this work for a long time. The veil between this world and the non-physical world is very thin and if you are tuned in, you are aware of how close it is.

Humans fear death, but life and death are really the same thing: one is physical and one is non-physical. The reason it is frightening is because we give so much value to the material world. If humans gave more value to the non-physical world, or the spirit/spiritual world, they would realize that there really is NOTHING to fear. 

Nature is the bridge between the physical and non-physical worlds. Nature has its own language that is not made of words. It speaks all the time and gives messages and signs and answers in every single moment that you tune yourself to her.

When you go out in nature, slow down.

Walk slow and witness each thing you see, hear, taste, touch and smell. Really sink in!

On Saturday, I woke up rather early. Scott wanted to sleep in because he had just returned from a ski trip to Vermont with the company he works for and was tired.

I got a strong feeling to get outside and head to Wing Island in Brewster, Cape Cod. It's a small, sandy island behind the Natural History Museum that is accessible by a boardwalk. I was the only car in the parking lot when I got there at 9am.

Nature responded to me immediately. Just near the parking lot was another trail I had not ventured down yet. I decided to explore it a little. As I walked through the morning sun, hundreds of birds with various calls sang their songs. It was so enchanting. Each one an integral part of Nature's choir. There were chickadees, red cardinals, blue jays, morning doves and birds I could not identify. 

I stood there letting the sun soak through me from head to toe and listened to this music.

I must have stood there for a good 10 minutes. I wanted to venture further, but snow and ice covered the trail further down and I had slightly re-sprained my ankle and was recovering again and didn't want to chance it. I walked back to the parking lot and headed to Wing Island.

I walked over a two-plank boardwalk through the marsh. Tall common reeds flanked my path. I felt a kind of ecstasy as I walked across the open marsh. Eventually the path opened to Cape Cod Bay at low tide. I walked far out on the sand flats. I stopped often and basked in the sun and let it fill me up, like drinking from a tall glass of clean water. It was a reminder to return to Nature for sustenance whenever I felt overwhelmed.

Fast forward 6 days and it's now March 12th. I started this post on March 6th. So much has happened in that short span of time. I got SUCKED into the physical plane and all the drama there. The condo where I live is in a battle with board members (seems appropriate since the rest of the world is in a battle too. It's like the macro and micro have lined up). Anyway, a certain board member insists on bulldozing over anyone who steps up or speaks up. I have had trouble with bullies in my life. I don't often stand up to them and over the past 6 days or so, I've decided to stand up. This has caused one of our condo members to become aggressive. There are several unit owners who have recognized and experienced that this is NOT good energy, so we've stood up together. I had a confrontation with that board member on Thursday that sucked all the energy right out of me. She was relentless. 

I'm kinda done with narcissists and bullies. We are in a world where I feel they are all rearing their heads and insisting on their ways, but the world is changing at an intense speed and there is no room for that kind of energy anymore. Anyway, I got a strong sign to get out of my condo for awhile and go on a STAY CATION. It's the end of my college quarter and I needed a quiet place to tune in, finish my work and just rest. 

I asked myself where I was meant to be and I got Eastham, on the lower Cape. This is my old stomping grounds. It's where I lived with Scott for 8 months when we first came to Cape Cod. I didn't have any friends here then nor a car. Although I desperately wanted a friend, I was able to tune in very deeply to nature and now I view that time as a sort of 'awakening' for myself on a deep level. The lower Cape is WILD. I'd often walk to First Encounter Beach and foxes would walk along side me. Once a coyote stood in the middle of the road. Hawks and osprey fly overhead and the birds are in abundance.

I rented a small cottage on Minister Pond. 

When I arrived to this oasis, there was a goodie bag on the table that read "Welcome back to Eastham Katherine!" It was like a warm hug. My entire body began to RELAX. I had stopped by the store and gotten food for the weekend. I had planned to stay here alone to get all my college work done, but Scott will come on Sunday to enjoy,

Right now the wind is HOWLING outside. It's Nature's way of clearing the air. When I drove out here on Friday at around 4, the sun was high in the sky and Tom Petty was playing on the radio singing "I'm FREE....FREE FALLING!" And I remembered that feeling again. I remembered that girl who likes to MOVE and flow and listen. The one who talks to red cardinals and every cat she sees and looks for crocuses and signs of spring. 

Yes, when I go inside, when I step back into Nature and pull myself away from the drama on the physical plane, I realize that it is all just WIND. Right now that wind is shaking the door in its frame. It sounds like someone is trying to open the door, but it is all just a bunch of AIR. If I can think of things in this way, I feel okay.

 I realize that while the wind seems fierce and relentless, there is always a calm after the storm and maybe that storm is necessary to shake things out of their stagnation. Maybe we all need a little shaking up! Maybe this storm is calling me to not run and hide, but to face what's in front of me, be it wind at my door or a menacing woman at my door. Maybe they are both the same and have just taken on a different forms?

Anyway, I've taken a break from my college grading to finish this post. I have to believe that it will all work out. That all things eventually do work out as they are supposed to. 

For now, I crave that quiet, introspective time alone. Here I am during a HUGE STORM out in the woods of Cape Cod alone and there's absolutely nothing to fear.

.

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Collaborating with the Unknown

"By choosing your thoughts, and by selecting which emotional currents you will release and which you will reinforce, you determine the quality of your Light. You determine the effects that you will have on others, and the nature of the experience of your life."—Gary Zukov from Seat of the Soul.

 Dear fellow Humans,

There's lots to fear in the world we live in today. There's a pandemic and people are dying.

 Or is that the unreliable narrator playing its part? Or am I the unreliable narrator?

 It's hard to distinguish fact from fiction today and everyone will tell you that what THEY believe and  follow are the FACTS without a doubt. So then others are called to question their own beliefs and facts and, since we all influence each other, we begin to FOLLOW what we are told rather than what is intrinsically true for each one of us. I can't deny what's true for you. What's true for you IS what's true for you. I'm not going to try and convince you otherwise. You have a right to believe and follow what you want to believe and follow. 

Part of why we create a story to begin with is because we are AFRAID of the unknown. Humans don't do well with what they don't know. It's easier to have a story. A story makes us feel like we know what's going on. 

The funny thing is, we've never known what will happen. NEVER. It's always been a mystery. We can't control what others will do, say or be. We only have the power to decide what we will do, say or be in this world at this moment in time.

Rather than fight the unknown and demand answers, I've found a way to collaborate with it. In fact, working with the unknown has become second nature to me. The unknown is highly intelligent and intuitive. When you are open to the unknown, amazing things happen. There's a co-creation that occurs that most often defies logic. If you are closed to it, you will only see what's in front of you or what's dished up for you to see.

In my life, there have been so many clear signs of the unknown tapping me on the shoulder and saying, "Can you hear me? I'm here. Let's create!"

When I hold tight to my old ideas or beliefs, no other energy is allowed to enter. I've basically decided on THE STORY of my life. Period. Most of the story I've created comes from past trauma or old patterns and beliefs that are no longer true. 

Examples:

"I'm poor and don't have much money."

"I'll never find a partner."

"You have to work hard for your money."

"Work is unenjoyable."

"I'll never be a home owner."

"I am not healthy."

"This has been a very hard year with no brightness anywhere."

These are messages that end with a period. There's no room for anything else to enter. It's the END of the story. 

But how about trying these instead:

"All the abundance in the world is available to me."

"There are many possible partners out there just waiting to literally bump into me."

"Work that I love flows easily into my life."

"My work is enjoyable."

"The perfect home is waiting for me and I can feel I'll have it soon."

"I'm in optimal health. I've never felt better and everyday I give my body the attention and love it needs."

"This year has had some challenges, for sure, but I still see brightness and possibility everywhere I look."

I just rewrote the STORY. Am I the unreliable narrator or am I simply collaborating with the unknown? Did you notice that the second group of statements were not definitive. They didn't have a feeling of "absoluteness" to them. They were more open and free. And maybe, to an extent, unreliable. Why? Because our PAST HISTORY, patterns and beliefs have told us that they simply CAN'T be TRUE. 

Why not try on a different HAT for size? Go out on a limb and create a new story. Collaborate with the unknown and unwritten, just to see what happens. 

Well, here's my story for an example:

I was in WA state and for months had been trying to buy a home. There was NOTHING I could afford, or so I told myself. 

"I guess I'll just be poor forever and roam from rental to rental. I'm not meant to have a home." 

A big part of me believed this story. I am attached to the wandering part of myself and LOVE it dearly, to the point of not really wanting to change the story, I guess. One day, while searching for homes on Zillow, I saw a listing for an off-season rental on Cape Cod that was extremely affordable. I hadn't considered Cape Cod. It wasn't the story I had imagined for myself. I was set on living on the Olympic Peninsula in WA State. Strangely, this rental on Cape Cod started to pull me in. I let go and I could feel myself living there and entertaining there and really loving it. I was open to a new story. I was open to ease and a different direction. All the times I visited Cape Cod with my boyfriend (his 97-year old mother and cousin live here and he grew up here) I loved it. Due to the "pandemic," I found myself teaching online, so currently, I can live anywhere. 

"But you better not uproot yourself. You better hold steady. You don't know when you'll have to go back to the classroom. It's unsafe to travel by car across the country right now. Coronavirus numbers are rising. You could get it. BE SAFE out there. Don't go out. You need to batten down the hatches and draw the shades and...and...and..." 

Who's story was this? Was it coming from FEAR or OPENNESS? Was it my story? What was I afraid of? 

When I let go, the unknown was sitting in the passenger seat right next to me saying, 

"Alright, here we go! So glad you tuned IN. You've known all along what to do. So glad you listened to your intuition. This is going to be absolutely GREAT!" 

And the next thing I knew, my boyfriend and I had secured a beautiful home on the lower Cape through the end of November. It was August when we started packing up our stuff. I'd been living in Airbnbs for the summer and uncertain of my next move and he had a short-term rental in Seattle that was ending soon. They were going to demolish his home to widen the road. Many of his carpentry jobs were coming to an end. I was about to go on a month-long break from teaching. The time was right. We put our stuff into two storage units. I sold my car. He got a camper top for his truck and we drove across the country, from WA State to Cape Cod. We stopped at a friend's cabin in Idaho and had a glorious two days swimming, eating and enjoying and then headed on the Lewis and Clark Trail to Montana where we pitched our tent at the Rusty Nail Ranch on Flathead Lake Indian Reservation. We saw bison and pronghorns and other wild animals. And behind our ranch was a shrine with 1000 buddhas. We visited there and met a woman who used to work at Boeing and also packed up all her things to work at the gift shop there. 

"I was called to come here," she said, "It didn't logically make sense, but everything lined up for me to be here." 

That's what collaborating with the unknown feels like. It doesn't logically make sense, but everything FEELS right. It all lines up and flows almost effortlessly.

We got to our home about 15 days later, having driven all the way across the country. When we first arrived, we were lost. The Lower Cape has mazes of homes down sandy paths with unknown street names. Some roads went half-way through and then ended. We found ourselves on the right road on the wrong section of it. My body immediately went to an old story, "Oh, no! It's late. We are lost. We will never find it." Scott, on the other hand, stepped outside in early September and felt the balmy, sultry air of the Lower Cape and listened to the crickets and didn't give a shit that he was lost. We had arrived! We were in paradise. He called his buddy he'd be working for (another part of the story we didn't plan or couldn't make up) who said, rather nonchalantly, "Why don't you try a different GPS. Maybe that will get you there." Within seconds, we were at our 'Downton Abbey' home and it was beyond amazing. I couldn't believe we were here!

Now, right now, as I sit here typing this, seven of the most glorious months of my life have just passed. We planned to stay here until the end of November, but it's nearly April and we are still here. Cape Cod Bay is a five minute walk down a shell-path from out home. We've witnessed spectacular sunsets almost every single night. We've kayaked and hiked and biked all over this place. We made it through the wild snow storms and have seen meteor showers from our upper deck. I can't tell you in this short blog post what we've experienced, but it's been out of this world. A dream really.

On April 1st, we have to move out. Our rental sold. We will move 10 minutes down the street to another rental near First Encounter Beach until June 19th. I was determined to live here through the summer, but it seemed nearly impossible since rent prices go up 4-10 times on Cape Cod in the summer. 

"It's impossible!" I thought. And well, we all know what happens to that story. It's over!

But, since I've been in the habit of keeping the door open with the unknown and I know clearly now that I'm co-creating my reality with source/God/my higher-self, I knew on a very deep level that anything is possible. So, before I knew it, I was putting an offer on a condo near a beach in Dennis that was selling for an unbeatable price. The condo ticked all the boxes I dreamed of in a home: low mortgage, the ability to Airbnb the unit, a pool, huge storage, low HOA, close to amazing beaches, kayaking and bike paths, next to Cape Cod Center for the Arts and the oldest summer theater in the United States, coffee shops, yoga schools, and the only pet you can have is a cat. The only pet I've ever wanted is a cat and recently I've REALLY wanted one.

So, if all goes through smoothly, we close on our new condo on Cape Cod on May 3rd. We will fix it up while we are living in our rental and make it our own. We may Airbnb it in the summers? Who knows? But we will have a place to live in for a good price in the summer and beyond
on Cape Cod and it is OURS!!! 

I didn't make this story up. This is my life. The only thing I did was decide to open and collaborate with the unknown. Life is always an unreliable narrator, but you get to intend on where you want the story to go. What words are you telling yourself about YOUR LIFE and LIFE AROUND YOU. Is that an old story? Is that your story even, or one you've been fed? Just something to consider.

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Losing Sense of Time

 Hello fellow Earthlings,

It's Friday, but seriously, who is keeping track? Someone out there is, probably? I work from home (I'm a college teacher) and my schedule is muddled by the fact that there aren't any events anymore to punctuate my time. I hate to admit that I'm still in my pajamas at 2:41pm. There's no getting dressed up, defrosting the car, packing a lunch and driving through traffic to work anymore, so what's the point. In fact, I sold my car, so I only travel on foot or bicycle now. 

There aren't many stores near my house, so yesterday I walked to the post office and got my mail, and then wandered into a tiny convenience store next to the post office and bought Drano, toothpaste, spaghetti sauce and glue sticks (for an art project). This was huge. But it got even better...

Near the gas station, there's one and only ONE boutique/art shop near my house called ARTichoke. I love it. They have tarot cards, crystals, incense, art, soap, bath salts clothes, kombucha, chocolate, jewelry, etc. I wandered around looking at everything. The whole place felt like a fantasy world of delight. When there's not much to stimulate the senses anymore, it doesn't take much. 

I ended up leaving the shop with two crystals (rose quartz and aventurine), pomegranate lip balm, rose water from Italy, bath salts with essential oils, peppermint chocolate and a kombucha. Bliss!

I have to say, however, today wasn't quite as productive. It comes in waves for me. I always have great intentions when I start my day. Scott is the first to get up. He has to be at the job site at 9am. I usually wake up to the sound of him making coffee and singing. The smell of coffee and breakfast usually lures me downstairs. We try to eat together before he leaves and then the silence of the house sometimes leaves me yearning for connection. I don't have any friends here, so social media has become a substitute for social life. The problem with the internet is that I find myself being led down rabbit holes of information without realizing how much time has passed. In a normal world, I'd call up a friend to go on a walk or out to dinner. But we aren't living in a normal world anymore. Somehow I managed to save the day by doing four hours of work for my college job. I even squeezed in a tiny walk to the beach before the sun went down.

Truthfully, the long winter months on the East Coast are giving me a bit of cabin fever.  While everyone in Seattle is elated about the snow coming tonight, ours has been on the ground for a week. It was exciting at first, but I can see why people here don't do snow dances. It's a given there will be snow and most likely A LOT of it. 

On my walk yesterday, I felt so lonely that I started communicating with a male cardinal. It was call and response. He'd call and I'd respond. It went on for several minutes and finally I turned to continue my walk. I will say, it was a magical moment to actually be talking to an animal and have it hear me. It was a being besides Scott who I was communicating with in person. That does count for something. 

This post sounds a bit sad. But truthfully, the tuning in part has been very rewarding and I've gotten so much from all the quiet and inward focus.

That being said,  I do feel the need to have some kind of community here if we plan to stay on another year. Scott and I talked about starting a Meetup on Cape Cod in order to find like-minded friends. It's not easy to be in a new place without a network of friends and family already in place during a pandemic. A wild Saturday night is hanging out with Scott's 97-year-old mom in Sandwich. I actually love it. She really peps up when we arrive and I always appreciate the conversations we have over dinner when we visit once or twice a week.

We are social creatures who create our lives and the purposes of our lives through our interactions. It's really not easy to have that be almost non-existent. I can tell, as the winter starts to thaw and spring emerges, I'm going to have to venture out, with a mask of course, and find my tribe here. I have faith that I will and that the sense of time I've lost and the connections I've missed will be replaced by longer, warmer days and time outside with people I have yet to meet. I've sensed soon-to-be friends so close that I'm sure we've crossed paths on my walks. I also sense that summer will be about car-travel and camping and being active again.

Scott  just said, "Let's go for a drive up to Provincetown and get a cup smokey Haddock chowder and a drink." Why not, I think. It's one thing we can do here and the outing is sure to shake up these dark feelings and add a bit of flavor and excitement to an otherwise moonless night.

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Nature Vs. Technology

"Look deep into nature and then you will understand everything better."—Albert Einstein

 Today the sun was high when I woke up at 8:30am. I ate a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, threw a load of laundry in the washing machine, cleaned up a bit and got dressed. All I could think about was getting OUTSIDE. 

Getting outside here on Cape Cod is actually how I get INSIDE. It's my REAL communion with the world. 

Today the clouds were puffy and white. I wandered down the shell path to the beach steps. The water was calm and clear and the clouds were smattered across the sky as if Bob Ross himself had joyfully brushed them in to being like the 'happy little clouds' he is known for. 

As soon as I take note of Nature, it takes note of me. This has been my experience. I'm no longer separate from it. It's as if a door opens and I'm ushered in where millions of miracles are happening all at once, me being one of the miracles. 

Of course we've seen everything in Nature before. Nothing is new, right? 

We've seen stars, clouds, the sun, the moon, trees. We've felt soft sand between our toes, tasted the sweet nectar of Nature in an apple picked fresh from a tree. We've smelled roses and lilacs. We've heard the waves lap at the shore. We've experienced it all, so why is Nature still so mesmerizing? Why do we need it and want to be out in it?

I don't know about you, but I'm constantly informed by Nature. The more I open the door and step in, REALLY STEP IN, the more I come out with a truer sense of who I am. 

It's as if all of the molecules in my body begin to dance with the sounds, sights, tastes, touches and feelings of Nature. 

Nature is very much a sensual experience. In witnessing it, I witness myself. We aren't separate. I long for that connection more than anything. It calls to me each day.

If Nature is feeling, Technology is THINKING.

The imagery I see, hear, or feel through technology is NOT THE SAME as what I experience with nature. Nature is REAL and tangible. It's light and bright, even when it is dark. 

 What I experience through technology is cold and metallic. Lately, the imagery feels dark and fear-producing. Technology has been created by humans as a way to bring the world closer to us, but are we meant to see the world all at once on a man-made screen? Could, perhaps, what we are currently experiencing through technology be completely man-made?  Is this the future of how we will interact? Will we all be staring at boxes feeling emotions that are happening to us through the INTERNET? Will we lose our connection to MOTHER NATURE herself and use her only as a means to an end rather than a way of connecting deeply to everything. 

Well, these thoughts come as I sit down at my computer. After all, this is how most of us are communicating these days. I feel that cold sensation again. It creeps in and leaves me with a buzzing in my ears, a tightness in my jaw and head and a soreness in my neck and back. Just as soon as I sit down, I want to get up and put my feet in the sand out in the driveway of this beach house—anything to unplug from technology and touch back down deep into the Earth's soft folds.

In my dreams, Nature visits me. I feel I'm being guided by merely opening to her. She tells me to keep tuning in. She tells me to rise above the noise and chaos—that BEING is just as important as DOING, if not more so—particularly NOW.

And it's not only the clouds that stood out today. While the clouds were large and lofty and begged to be noticed, tiny shells and grains of golden sand at my feet held just as much magic in them. My shoes sank into those soft grains on the beach and with every step I took I imagined all the darkness that's been swirling around on the Earth through technology get washed out by the salty water of Cape Cod Bay. Mother Nature is so much wiser than anything humans have created or destroyed on on this planet. She has so much compassion and patience for us. She only asks us to take notice of her.

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Finding the Light

"Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all the darkness."—Desmund Tutu

Have you ever stared at patterns on your walls or ceiling, the patterns the sun makes early in the morning as the light streams through the windows? Or listened to the sound of the rain on the roof? Or heard and even felt the wind howling outside shaking the windows in their frames? That wind is so loud that you can feel the air in the bedroom charged with its energy.

All of this energy pulls me out from the warmth of my house, right out into the raw elements. 

 Down the the road from me, here in Eastham, is First Encounter Beach, where Pilgrims encountered Natives of this land for the first time. When I walk around this area, I feel that even though this land is very narrow in its width, its deep in its history and there's so much to learn from it. I'm not talking about learning from books, although I'm finding those to be interesting, but more from the land itself.

When Scott goes off to his carpentry job each morning after a breakfast together of coffee and oatmeal, I immediately pull on my rubber boots if it's low tide or I slip on my tennis shoes if the tide is a bit higher. If the tide is low, I can walk way out on the flats, much like walking on the moon, I imagine. I like the ripples in the sand that the waves leave behind. Today, I saw intricate lines in smooth sand that left vein-like features that appeared to be tree branches with long, deep roots. 

The patterns the water leaves in the sand are so alive. They are the earth's symbols and they are everywhere. The sand reminds me that whatever I see today, won't be there tomorrow. When the tides come in, all of it gets washed away. 

This morning, before getting out of bed,  I did the mistake of checking in on the news. And then checking Facebook. I saw comments by people who were so angry, unhappy, and divided. People were calling each other names and were fighting for 'their side,' saying the other was wrong or at fault. I feel so removed from it all out here. I'm not ignorant of what is going on. But what do I accomplish by fighting on the computer with others? Or insisting that I have all the answers. Truthfully, I'm less and less inclined to even check and see what's going on because there's so much going on RIGHT HERE and what goes on in the news feels a bit overwhelming, out of my control and even quite surreal. Sometimes I entertain the idea of disappearing for a year into the wild, away from the need to connect by phone or computer. I wonder what would happen after a year of being away with no news? Would people still be fighting about politics? Would there be more hatred in the world? Or would people find a way to really witness each other, really hear each other? Well, as the old adage goes, 'There's nothing new under the sun.' The sun has, in fact, seen it all. Maybe that's why it was such a strong teacher for me today.

Today everything was about LIGHT: sunlight through my windows, sun patterns on my wall, sun on the beach, sunlight on my face. A worker smoking a cigarette behind Cumberland Farms said, "Hey, What a beautiful day, isn't it? It feels like spring!" I love the directness of people here. There's no hesitation in them telling you how they feel. I couldn't have agreed more. It was gorgeous.

I must have walked 5 miles today around my hood. I walked from my home to Thurmpertown Beach and then down Thumpertown Road to Brackett Road where I visited the tiny North Eastham Post Office to check my post box for mail. Then I walked from Campground Road to Bay Road and back to the house.

 

Always, at the start of my walk, my mind rehashes thoughts about this or that. My mind goes from the past to the future in an instant. Eventually my mind settles comfortably in on now.

What's happening now?

Now I'm feeling my feet in my shoes. Now the blue sky against the green of the pines on Thumpertown Road is so vivid. Now a woman in a white jacket with a white-patterned hat with ear flaps just passed me on the other side of the road and waved. Now I see green grass poking through the pine-needled sides of the road. Is spring already on its way? Now a red cardinal just fluttered past me onto an oak branch. Now I must cross the street, are there any cars? Wow, it feels like a ghost town around here, I like it. Now the sun is beating on my face as I change direction. Now I close my eyes and feel the sun fill me up from head to toe. Now I move at a steady pace, my legs working without me needing to tell them to move. How miraculous this body is! How amazing this earth is!

These are my thoughts as I move into the now. And most of the time these thoughts fall away and all I feel are sensations. In those moments, I am connected to, not separate from, everything. 

And this is why I followed the light outside today. It's also why I've opened a window to feel the wind on my face or sat up on my upper balcony to watch a meteor shower. 

I won't stop doing this. In a world that currently feels out of control with humans in charge, the sun said, "Don't worry, we've seen this all before. Stay in the light."

Join me for a 5-week Intuitive Writing journey called Living a Life with Intention starting on January 21st. I'd love to see you there.

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.

The Bridge Between the Earth Realm and the Spirit Realm is Nature

 When I step outside my door here on Cape Cod, I often feel a rapture or an ecstasy with the wild nature here. It invites me in, and, often times I lose track of time when I enter through nature's door. I become keenly aware and my senses are elevated. Today I felt I would meet a guide on my path. I felt it before I met it. And there he was. Standing on the beach steps I frequently use to go down to the sand. We locked eyes for a minute. I felt this gentle, wild animal inside myself. His eyes stared directly into my soul, his fast, little heartbeat met with the sound of mine inside my chest. I didn't want to move. I just wanted to stay there on the edge with him.

Foxes are known for walking in both the earth and spirit realms. They are signs to tune deeper into intuition and less into the noise of the material world. This fox stayed with me and then disappeared down the steps and over the rocks. The tide was high, so I turned back towards the sandy path and noticed crows on a wire screeching loudly. My intuition told me to look down. And there the fox was again coming straight towards me. He had walked over the rocks near the beach and met me back on the street. As he got closer to where I was standing, he turned and walked across the road right in front of me. What a magical creature!

He disappeared behind some trees and then came out again with his back towards me and then turned and stared right at me again before turning to leave. Why did he come back? What was his message?

Intuitively I knew why he was there. I knew. I have been feeling the pull of the material world and all the noise. I can get pulled into it, but I'm being called to step away from it and step more into my spirit. I'm being called to be like the fox, in the world but not of it.

And this might sound strange and a little out there, but I'm not going to make excuses for who I am anymore. If there's any time to BE WHO I AM, it's now. I often walk this bridge between earth and spirit. Nature is THAT bridge. I have a foot firmly in both realms. I have had dreams of going into the spirit realm and filling up with light and then coming back to earth again and repeating this over and over. I'm not the only one doing this. When I go into the spirit realm in my dreams, I see many more among me doing the same. They fill with light and then return. Again and again. I often think, "What am I DOING here?" I know I'm being guided by my higher self, but it doesn't always make sense on this plane of existence.

I've thought to go off radar for a bit so I can tune more inward, but there's an equal need to share this information, not hide it. The fox affirmed for me today that I was on the right path.

"Foxes have powerful spiritual energy that can give you deep insight into your own spiritual gifts, how to manage them, and what to look out for when protecting your own energetic space. Foxes are intricately linked to intuition, the psychic gift of claircognizance (clear knowing), and being aware of energetic boundaries. they can appear in your life to awaken these gifts within you or to encourage you to trust your inner voice." (crystalclearintuition.com)

I know what I am here to do, or more precisely, what I am here to BE. I'm a teacher, healer, light worker, psychic, mystic, shaman practitioner, documenter, writer, intuit and seeker. I am grounded on the Earth to help people connect completely to who they are which is connected to who we ALL are: beings of love and light. I'm here to be a conduit of light on the planet (every earthling is, whether they realize it or not). I'm here to tell you that the bridge between the earth realm and the spirit realm is nature. There are important messages and signs everywhere, but you won't find them in mass media or on the news. You will find ALL of the answers inside you. It's your choice.