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: 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.