Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Staring at the Blank Page

 "The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink clamoring to become visible."

--Vladimir Novokov

Hello fellow Earthlings,

How are you? Today, right now, I'm up on the second floor of my office, with sunlight shining through my window making my plants (and me) extra happy! I'm also staring at this blank page. 

The cursor is there waiting. It's blinking. I have so much to say both on this blog and in my new book. I think part of my problem is that I want to get it all just right rather than just getting it out and on the page. It stops me from writing at all. I have this idea that things need to be a certain way before they can become anything. It's hard to explain.

Here we are in March and February was a blur. I got off Facebook on February 15th. I needed time and I was wasting too much time on social media. I temporarily deleted my account so that I could focus a bit more. 

January and February were hard months for me. I went through some emotional and physical turmoil. As I mentioned in my last post, I opened Pandora's box when I decided to dive into my next book about transformation that was instigated by my first marriage ending. I had no idea that so much unresolved pain would resurface and manifest in both physical and mental pain. My eyes got infected, I got sick, I felt deep depression and the cold, gloomy weather didn't help. I went into self-care and self-healing mode and it felt right. I didn't produce much on the book front, but I did a lot of necessary healing.

Now I'm like the ground hog who pops his head up from under the earth to check if spring is here. It's time to spring forward, I feel. New energy is circling around me. I feel a shift. I had planned to finish three chapters of my book by the end of March, but I only finished one (I have a total of 100 pages written, but it all needs focus and some revising). I'm cutting myself some slack though.

I'm teaching two college classes online and it's been a lot of work. Winter quarter will end for me on the first day of spring. At least that's when I plan to get all the tests graded and all my administrative work turned in.

And then I'm going on an adventure...

It's been awhile. I'm on Trusted Housesitters (If you are reading this and want the link, I have a 25% off code for you, so let me know). I pet sit for animals all over the world. I love taking care of pets because I don't have any of my own and I like the idea of being able to travel and see new places. I've pet sat in Port Townsend, Seattle, Shoreline and Chimacum in Washington State, Hawaii and Rome and Lucca, Italy. My next cat sit is at a post and beam farm house on 50 acres in Connecticut where I will take care of one sweet cat. This sit happens to fall exactly on my spring break from college, so on March 23rd, I'll drive two hours to my destination. I will stay there for 10 nights and then drive back. Scott will come see me on one of the weekends. My goal on this sit it to WRITE, WRITE WRITE and tune into nature and nurture myself and take care of one adorable cat, of course! I may explore the little towns nearby too. I can't wait for this retreat. I am so looking forward to it!

Then, on April 3rd, I start a new college quarter and I'm teaching a DOUBLE LOAD of classes online. That will be challenging, but I am doubling up with the anticipation of possibly taking summer quarter off to travel, plan a wedding, etc.! We've rented out our Cape Cod condo for all of August and the first weekend in September. We plan to go to Europe to honeymoon before our wedding. (Eat your dessert first, you don't know what tomorrow will bring...lol). Then, on September 30th, we are getting married on Cape Cod!!! Whoa...crazy to say it and so much to do. 

Today I had a counseling session. I talked with my counselor about intention and flow. I have been able to manifest quite a bit in my life by setting intentions and collaborating with my higher self (God, universe or whatever you want to call it). The small girl in me is often contracted and afraid. I've been working on remembering that my higher self is ever present and willing to communicate with that scared, small girl who has been affected by grief, trauma, pain, etc. Those are things that happened, but those things are not me. The conversation between that girl and my higher self has been an incredibly healing one. In that conversation, I've been able to let go of quite a lot. I want to keep that communication open and ever present. It makes a huge difference on how I navigate my life.

So this blank page wasn't so scary after all. Not sure if it has any focus, but sometimes words just want to come out in whatever way and later the focus can be found. Last night I saw the movie Emily at Cape Cinema with Scott. It's about Emily Bronte and her life. The screen writer took a lot of artistic license, but it was a powerful character sketch of a woman who went through so much. She was powerful, raw, real, unafraid (yet also shy and scared when forced into formal situations or pressed to follow societal norms). I felt a lot of myself in her. She felt she had failed in some way, but she was true to herself which gained her lots of accolades. Strangely, that was not really what she was after. She needed to express herself. The scene where she was upstairs in her bedroom with a single candle and a quill pen staring at the blank page was so relatable to me. She had to open her big bedroom windows and let in the bird calls, and fragrances of flowers and the wild wind. Only then could she write. She let it all in and let the writing come just as naturally as the sun rises and nature creates a new day. 

I feel a lot of creative energy bubbling inside of me. The door between me and my higher self is open. The conversation is intimate. I'm letting the words come out and allowing them to land where they may. I'm feeling and sensing. I'm tuning in. I'm not afraid to fail. I'm going to let it all flow...

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Writing Through The Pain

 Hello fellow Earthlings,

I tend to hang out in the positive polarity of life, but no one is immune to PAIN. It's an EARTHLING condition. And there is physical, mental and spiritual pain and sometimes they are all tied together, even if we think they are separate.

A few weeks ago, I opened Pandora's box and unearthed my journals from when my marriage ended. If anything will jolt you back into a timeframe you just as soon have forgotten, reading past journals of that time will.

I am writing a new book called Venus on Fire about my transformation after my marriage ended. In December, I rented a private office up the street from me in Yarmouth, Cape Cod and set it all up with a sofa and chairs, a desk, a lamp, plants, books, and journals. I made it comfortable and inspirational and I thought I had set myself up for a smooth ride.

Nope.

Reading through those old journals did something to me. My body is confused. Am I living in this timeline or that timeline. Maybe I have a leg in both of them. And then, of course, I started to beat myself up that I didn't have a handle on things or that things weren't moving along faster in the book writing world. 

As I dug further into my past,  my body started to give out. My eyes got infected (both of them) and I couldn't wear my contacts. I felt a pain in my chest that I couldn't shake. I felt a lot of anger that may not have been expressed from my marriage and the ending of said marriage. I accidentally  sat on my only ancient pair of glasses and broke them in two. My fiancé Scott glued them together with super glue, using tissue paper to hold the glue. So now I was going even further back to when I was a kid and got teased all the time for wearing glasses. More Pain. He tried to make it better my removing the tissue and coloring in the glob of glue with a pen (bless his heart, his intentions were pure). I put them on and felt like the biggest nerd known to mankind

Me with my nerdy glasses at Ritual on Cape Cod where I taught a Vision Board/Intuitive Writing Workshop

. 

I also felt lost and depressed. I didn't have a clear vision of my future or what I am trying to accomplish. I have so many things I want to do, but feel like I'm sinking in thick mud and to lift one boot up and put the other one down into this dense, thick stuff is easier said than done.

So I'm wading through the shit. We all have to do it at some point. Many people just as soon keep Pandora's box shut tight and buried....forever...

The thing is, this book is NOT a book about divorce. It's a book about what came out of a divorce. It's a book about empowerment, transformation and overcoming obstacles. It's book about seeing the truth of who I was, who I am and who I am becoming. We are always becoming. Each one of us is not the same person we were two seconds ago. 

I realize that to talk about this transformation, I have to understand where I was and put myself back there. I now get that I also need to keep myself insulated a bit when I do that. It would behoove me to have some self-care in place. If I'm journeying back in time, it would be nice to have a heated seat, a good drink, driving gloves, a nice pair of shades, an air bag and my seat belt fastened. 

So today I really fell apart, but my airbag protected me. I went to a yoga class in the morning, I reached out on Facebook for love and support (I know that's a weird place to do it, but it's where all my peeps are in one place), I had my home professionally cleaned (That's part of self care for me).

As I walked the steps up to my office to attend a college meeting, I began to feel my hands get clammy and my heart race. I called the eye doc and asked if I was having a reaction to the antibiotic drops I need to put in my eyes 4 times a day for the eye infection. She said that a racing heart was uncommon, but I should go to ER or Urgent Care. 

I talked myself down from the cliff a bit. I decided things weren't so urgent. I slowed my breathing down and meditated. I asked myself what I needed. 

The answer was REST.

So I cancelled all my classes and laid down on my 'therapy' sofa in my office with a scarf over my eyes and listened to 15 minutes of guided meditation. I really let myself release whatever wanted to be released.

Interestingly, I am surrounded by therapists. My office building is a therapy office with one real estate broker and one recluse author (me). Even though most of the therapists use sound machines to block the noise of their conversations, every once in a while I get bits and pieces. When I first moved in, I overheard, "Your relationship is RUPTURED. You have to accept the fact that it is RUPTURED." For some reason, the word ruptured rang in my head all day that day. So while white noise machines where whirling outside office doors today, my own therapist in Seattle had an opening in her schedule. What a relief. 

She said, "Maybe you should write about how it feels to write this book. Maybe you should say what you are going through."

So here I am, on my blog, letting you know that it aint no picnic.

But I'm going to keep on keeping on despite all the pain. 

And maybe I'll even get some cute glasses...

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: A Room of One's Own and other BIG NEWS...

Dear Fellow Earthlings,

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write...”—A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolfe

I finally did it. I got a 'A Room of One's Own' in December. I invested in myself. This may not sound like much, but it was huge for me. I have spent quite a bit of time getting the atmosphere just right. I've added plants, a sofa, a rug, etc. 

My Room of One's Own....

I found most of the furniture on Facebook Marketplace. I got a mid century sofa bed for $50, a huge Monstera plant and a bunch of other plants for $50. I also got these items for free: an accent chair, side tables and a gorgeous Moroccan mirror. The owners of the space I'm renting gave me a desk, office chair and two beautiful plants for free too.

Gorgeous sunset tonight from my Writer's Room

The office space I'm renting is 5 minutes from my home. It's an oasis of peace. As I sit here on the second floor in my heated room, I hear an owl hooting outside my window. I think I'm the only one here at 8:30pm on a Thursday. Most of the people in my office building are therapists and there is one real estate broker who is never here. This is interesting because I always thought that if I were to ever choose a different career for myself, it would be counseling.

 Earlier today, I treated myself to a foot massage and pedicure at a nail salon in my complex which consists of about 7 buildings total in a square around a large parking lot. The buildings are very aesthetically pleasing, with little houses attached together and set back from historical Route 6A. Besides the nail salon, there's also a day spa and a hair salon. I know, I know, it seems that I'm avoiding the actual work I set out to do here. And what is that work, you ask?

Well, I really needed a private space to myself to teach my college classes, online intuitive classes and I needed a place to offer psychic readings and finish my next book. For nearly three years, I've been teaching and offering classes in my bedroom on the Cape and while this seemed to work out okay when we were renting a big house in Eastham, it's been more challenging since we bought and moved to a one-bedroom condo. The space where I did all my college classes and tried to write was at the foot of the bed and my writer's chair and desk were often strewn with clothing, books, boxes, etc. I had to constantly push things aside to make space for my work and I was also sharing that space with Scott.

So this is a big move for me. The owners gave me all of December for free, so I don't feel guilty yet for not having done too much. I've spent most of the month just getting organized! I still have boxes of my journals and other writing material in the storage area of our condo. I need to get these things organized in my office and come up with a writing schedule.

I know I'm going to teach my college classes and hunker down and write this winter, but I'm also ITCHING to travel. Winter can be bitter cold and windy on Cape Cod. It's a bit daunting to think that I'm going to lock myself up here to write when I really feel like running away to a tropical location and enjoying. 

To stay active, I wake up at 7am and walk with my friends Christine and Katie and often go to yoga after our walk. If I miss walking at 7am, I try and walk at some point in the day. I find this is really important when the days are dark and cold.

In other BIG news, on November 5th, Scott reached into his backpack and pulled out a tiny box and said, "Should I get down on one knee or something?" Oh.My.Lord. I opened the box and inside was a tiny, silver filagree ring with a tiny turquoise stone that he chose himself. A promise ring. He asked me to marry him! We've talked about it a handful of times, but this was a surprise. I said YES! We've had an amazing almost seven years of love, joy and adventures as well as challenges that we've had to navigate, as every couple does. I feel like we've navigated the challenges quite well and are both emotionally intelligent enough to work together in finding solutions to those challenges. I feel good and excited about all the love and adventures to come!

With my sweet man on Christmas on Chapin Beach Cape Cod. Baby, it's cold outside!

 Now the daunting task of planning a wedding in the fall. It all seems so overwhelming that maybe we'll just elope? Not sure yet?

Also, this summer we plan to go to Europe. We can rent our Cape place out for quite a nice sum of money, so we've decided to travel. There's also those plans to figure out. By this summer, I'll be ready to travel again.

I have so many things I want to do that I'm finding it hard to focus and prioritize. I feel like sometimes I just want to soak up everything life has to offer and life has a lot to offer. I like to imagine and create. I am so happy I have a place to do that now. This place is quiet, cozy, warm, comfortable and very conducive to work. It's a writer's dream! Please send good juju so I can do something with this new investment and get the next book done!! It's been a long time and I'd like it to happen....

Here I go.....

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Dropping Down Deep

 Dear fellow Earthlings,

Has it really been six months since I've written on this blog? What happened? I can't even really summarize it all. 

All I can say is that I was on a long journey and that journey was very extroverted on some levels, but there was some inner work that did take place.

I stopped writing here in April. By June, summer was in full swing and I was getting ready to leave my Cape place for six weeks and rent it out. Scott and I traveled by car from the Cape to Washington State and back. That was not a short journey. We went to meet friends and family and to clear out our storage units there, but there were definite adventures along the way in both directions. Looking back, they seemed like initiations to get me to where I am now. 

After we returned from our long trip, several friends from Seattle and Florida came to visit us. My best friend from elementary school just left on Halloween. It was such a joy to have a life-long friend here in my new stomping grounds. I love this place so much and I wanted her to experience what I have experienced. I can honestly say that we both had a really good time.

But now it's November 1st. Time to drop down inwards. Time to see what wants to come out.

On Halloween, after being inside all day working on my college class and catching up on other work I avoided while enjoying with my friend, I decided to head to Mayflower Beach and walk along the shore to Chapin Beach. It was around 5:30pm and the sky across the bay was jet black with only a sliver of white against the emerald green water.

 It looked like the sky might fall at any minute. It had an eerie quality that was appropriate for the holiday. There was not a soul on the beach, save for one man dressed in a lion suit sitting melancholically on the beach next to the shore. He looked unflinchingly into the distance, hands wrapped around his knees. He had an air of disappointment about him. Upon seeing me, he gathered his lion's tail in his hands and wandered down the shore in the opposite direction. 

Now there was no one.

There was also no wind.

I listened to the waves lap against the shore and watched as the clouds got darker and darker. They were so dark now that they seemed they might burst.

When I got to Chapin Beach, I turned around and started walking on the street. The air was thick and warm and crickets still chirped. Did they know it was almost November? Did they know winter was coming?

I closed my eyes and felt the moment. The sultriness of summer was still in the air, but the darkness of the skies and the dead leaves on the ground indicated the change coming that was inevitable.

I wandered as far as Bay Beach. Just before I entered the beach a fox crossed my path. I hadn't seen one since 2020 when I lived in Eastham. I didn't have any friends there and spent most of my time talking to animals. I was tuned in then in a way I am not now, but just for those few moments, staring at the fox across from me as he sat looking at me intently in the sand dunes, I realized that I hadn't lost all connection to the natural world. I was tuning in again. I felt deep gratitude for this creature's appearance on Halloween. Foxes, to me, exist between both the physical and spiritual worlds and at a time when the veil between the physical and spiritual is so thin, it felt very auspicious to see him there.

But just as he appeared, he disappeared, almost as if he were never there to begin with.

I carried on down the beach and came upon dozens of sand pipers screeching loudly under the moon. I had no where to walk without running into them, so they flew in formation over the sand and landed in a perfect line along the shore giving me a path to walk. 

I know this new month marks the start of a very different time. I can feel I will be writing quite a bit. I can feel I will be uncovering more than I know. I will start teaching a new intuitive writing class on Friday at Ritual in Yarmouth. This time it will be in person. The class is called Conscious Creation. I may also offer it online. I have been working at a deeper and deeper level with the idea that we completely create our reality. I have tested new tools that give clear evidence for this. I'm excited to explore more deeply with conscious creation and see where it leads.

For now, I am grateful for the opportunity to get back in to a rhythm and routine. As the days grow shorter, I'm ready to drop down deep....

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: The fog will lift and you WILL get your mojo back...

Dear fellow EARTHLINGS,

Are any of you feeling the INERTIA? Are you feeling the fog? Are you on airplane mode? Is your vehicle on auto-pilot? Are you in your comfort ZONE, but feeling like you need a sense of purpose, direction or perhaps a little FIRE under your pants to get you going? (By the way, I enlarged the text on this post because it wants to be LARGE for obvious reasons today).

Well, I am feeling these things!

I had a dream earlier in the month where I was driving my car but had no idea where I was going. The fog outside kept getting thicker and thicker. Eventually I had to pull the car over. I started getting sleepy and realized I was being 'gassed'. I couldn't even bring myself to check my phone or send a message out, I was THAT tired. I was able to lean my car seat back and then I guess I surrendered. It wasn't a fearful dream. I wasn't in FIGHT or FLIGHT. 

I just let go....

A few days after that I went down to Mayflower Beach and the entire beach was in a thick fog. It was like I was living out my dream in reality (or vice versa). I walked directly into the fog and couldn't see Cape Cod Bay or people or life of any kind. I could only see less than a foot in front of me, so I walked in the direction of the sound of the waves. I got to the water and dead European Starlings were strewn across the shore. I have an app that identified the birds. 

Why were they dead? What killed them? Bird flu? Virus? 

I had this eerie feeling and a sense of being the only one left on Earth. I kept walking through the fog with wet sand beneath my feet. There were patches of seaweed and kelp here and there in the sand. I decided to identify some of these: Dead Man's Fingers, Gut Weed...

So now I'm walking through fog over Dead Man's Fingers and Gut Weed to a stark shoreline where once-full-of-song-and-life starlings are lying half-mutilated on the dark, cold sand. If this is not a metaphor for what has been going on in our world for the last...say... 2 to 3 years, I don't know what is.

I stood still for a moment as the fog turned my hair into a wet mess which was now sticking to my face and thought:

For the love of God, can we please have a little light in this world?

Just then the fog lifted. I kid you not. I saw the entire beach stretched out before me. I saw light and people in the distance walking their dogs. I saw kids playing frisbee. Strange seagulls with black heads came out of nowhere. One hovered along side me and I swear he looked me right in the eye. What were these creatures? Before I could have another thought about it, this bird took off on another thermal down the beach. Later, I identified the birds to be a black-headed gulls (makes sense), which is a rare visitor to North America, being that they are European. Maybe they, like the starlings, had a message?

I got my own message that day. It was pretty loud and clear. Surrender and eventually the fog will lift. AMEN TO THAT!

I'm ready for this inertia to go away. I'm ready to feel  clear-headed and get my fire back. I'm ready to WRITE and get my next book out there, teach classes, retreats, get my mojo back and GET ON WITH IT.

I'M READY!

I know the world is heavy right now. I know there is a lot going on. I know self care is needed, but that that doesn't mean you can't spread your wings and fly. You are still ALIVE. What do you want to do with this one precious life? We need your light.... so pick something (or pick a few things, but not much more than that) and stick with it until the end. 

I am speaking primarily to myself, but perhaps you feel this too? And here's the thing:

Just because the GRINCH stole the ROAST BEAST doesn't mean he gets to steal Christmas, right? All the Whos down in Whoville are not going to let that happen. They are going to join hands, love, sing, create and carry on....

And that's what I plan to do.

How about you?

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Disappearing ACT

 Dear fellow Earthlings,

It's been a long time. Over 10 months to be exact. I didn't think I'd disappear for so long and so much has happened in that short time. Here's a quick timeline to catch you up:

• At the end of March, Scott stopped working for his friend in Welfleet. Since then, he's worked for another company, done handyman work and worked for another friend. And is now pretty comfortable working at Thor Construction in Wellfleet, MA where he's been for awhile.
• I closed on a condo on May 3rd in Dennis, MA which is on Cape Cod.
• We immediately got down and dirty with fixing our condo up. It needed a lot of fixing. It's now looking quite nice and homey, but still isn't 100% done. Hopefully by this winter it will be almost complete. I don't want to show before and after photos until it's done. We scrubbed walls, put in wainscoting, put in new floors, baseboard, crown molding and kitchen cabinets, all new kitchen lighting, including pendant lights over the island. We still have to do kitchen countertops, new appliances and probably a bathroom remodel. We've made it nice and definitely increased the value of the place. Real estate is prime on the Cape, so it's a good place to invest.
• June & July were all about a little remodeling, but mostly enjoying the summer on Cape Cod and spending time with new friends (I'm so happy to have good friends here now!) 
• In August, I went to Seattle with Scott to reconnect with family and friends there. We had a great time and it was great weather! We stayed 5 nights on Whidbey Island with family in a gorgeous house overlooking Saratoga Passage. We also spent time in Seattle, Sequim and Port Townsend. I sprained my ankle there while out to dinner with a friend and it's taken some time to rehabilitate my ankle, but I'm getting there through Physical Therapy and I'm back to hiking 3-4 miles a day.
• September-December was about teaching fall quarter online AND enjoying my favorite season—FALL!!! I went to Mirabeau Spa in Plymouth for my birthday and got a massage and used the spa facilities. This was wonderful because our power went out at our house during a storm, but not at the spa. I got a complimentary champagne drink at the bar and ordered lunch. That night a girlfriend and I went out to dinner at The Ocean House in Dennis. It has a gorgeous view of the water and the food is delicious. I had the scallops. For my birthday weekend, we drove to Portsmouth, New Hampshire for lunch and then on to Kittery and York, Maine where we stayed a night at an amazing boutique hotel overlooking Nubble Light House. It was picturesque and perfect. We were back in time for the Salty Witches Samhain Market (A Halloween Festival) at Ritual on Cape Cod where Scott and I take and teach classes. It was fun dressing up, carving pumpkins, roasting marshmallows and enjoying the festivities.
• Our Condo had a Friendsgiving the Sunday before Thanksgiving and we all shared food together. It was really nice and then we went to Scott's mom's place for actual Thanksgiving and spent it with Scott's mom and cousin.
• For the Christmas season, we enjoyed both the Yarmouth and Dennis Christmas Stroll, tree-lighting and caroling in town. I hadn't participated in any of the strolls before and they were really fun. I also had a very interesting experience eating inside an IGLOO at the Ocean Edge Resort in Brewster. It was an all-clear dome structure equipped with a heater, blankets, cozy chairs and a drink/food menu to order from. It was really fun and festive. We had Christmas dinner and opened presents at our condo in Dennis. Scott's mom, who is almost 98, made the trip. She hasn't been out of her neighborhood in YEARS, so this was epic. On NYE we went out with friends for dinner and live music and then did count down in our own home. The next day, on January 1st, we went out to lunch with Scott's mom, brother and cousin at The Fisherman's View Restaurant in Dennis, MA. Then, on Sunday, January 2nd, I taught a VISION BOARD workshop for the New Year at Ritual. That was fun and well-attended.
• On Wednesday, January 5, Scott started to feel unwell. He tested positive for COVID and I got it right after. We are still crawling out of that hole, but felt well enough today (10 days later), to take a hike and visit Nauset Beach. This OMICRON variant is going around and is infecting everyone, regardless of vaccination status. I'm kind of glad we got it, because we overcame it and now feel stronger having been through it. It's not for the meek or weak, that's for sure, and we made sure we quarantined and stayed home.
• I'm teaching a full load online at the college now, A Level 5 ESL class and a business class. I missed two Zoom classes online last week due to COVID, but I'm up and running again and feel pretty good again.

So as you can see, I disappeared from here, but I have been pretty active in life. I feel more a part of my community here on Cape Cod. I have friends now, which makes a HUGE difference. 

While I was sick with nothing to do, I felt a strong urge to write again. I felt a strong pull to write on my blog AND finish my current book. I'm not sure how I'll do it with my busy teaching schedule, but I'm pretty determined. My goal is to write here every Friday and to write my book Thursday-Sunday, when I'm not teaching. 

I've been having really intense dreams, but when I wake up, I forget to write them down and "poof," they are gone. I feel like those dreams are are pointing out where I need to go. If I could remember them, it would help me. Also, I've been channeling quite a bit and Scott's been recording those channelings. I hope to share them here. It's a little scary to share those, as I haven't done that before, but I feel this is the year to not hold back. This is the year to allow "my full self" to come to the surface and those who like it or resonate with what I write/channel are welcome! 

What feels most true to me during this GREAT TIME OF CHANGE is to turn my mind away from mainstream news and more toward's NATURE'S NEWS. 

Today the ocean called. The Atlantic Ocean beckoned me. I wanted to go to our old stomping grounds, Nauset Beach and feel the spray of the salt water touch my face and cold wind turn my cheeks red. I wanted to touch the soft, white sand and look straight into those rolling waves. I wanted to be lifted into the air by the wind, but jumping would have to do. I skipped along the shore and laughed like a child. It was so cold, my hands went numb. I still laughed. I laughed so hard I cried and the tears almost froze right there on my face. Ahhh, to be ALIVE. What a gift it is. We don't have time for disagreements, fighting, deciding who's right or wrong. We don't have time for FEAR. We are all only here for a blip in time. Instead of tuning into people's news, I want to tune into the main SOURCE. 

I am part of the waves,

the salt air,

The children's laughter,

the wind in my hair,

I am bigger than what my body can hold

from a grain of sand

To a wave so strong,

and loud,

and powerful,

that it can and WILL

suck everything away in its wake,

In one instant

One instant

It's all we have here

Until we return to those waves.

How will you spend these fleeting instances?

By telling people what to do 

and how to think?

Will you spend it dividing yourself from others?

Will you insist, righteously, that you know all the answers?

Or will you go

with the wind

to the end

of 

time

**In the next blog post next Friday, I will share my first channeling. Stay TUNED!***

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: Widening the Lens and Getting a Bigger Perspective

 

Hello fellow Earthlings,

I love taking photos on my walks. Sometimes I'm so overwhelmed with joy and delight in what I am seeing and witnessing that I want to capture it all, but it's too enormous.

While I can Zoom in on a tree's branches covered with white snow and capture how things look up close, I realize that this tree also holds many different kinds of birds in its branches. There are small berries and leaves and a big wide trunk with roots that go deep down into several layers of earth and then there's an entire underworld happening there that I can't capture or even begin to know about. So I'm just getting one small perspective of this tree.

Whatever I see is only part of the bigger picture. 

When I step outside into nature, I'm also part of this picture. I'm part of the bay with the tide receding, the bright sun overhead, the snow melting on the rocks, the razor clam shells, the bright green seaweed. 

I'm every little tiny grain of sand.

I'm that sun that lights up the entire sky. The same one that sinks below the horizon like a huge, orange liquid ball of fire.

From the micro to the macro, I'm part of it.

When I zoom my lens out far, I get the entire scene, but it still doesn't do justice to what I'm seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting, touching and feeling. 

I can't capture the sound of the waves or the taste of salt on my lips or the frozen feeling of my feet walking through soft snow or the smell of cedar burning in wood stoves in houses on the bluff.

These are all pieces of the picture. 

Out here on Cape Cod, the weather can change in an instant. We can go from a sunny 55 degree day in the winter to a frozen 28 degree day with wind gusts up to 70 miles per hour. You just never know out here. 

My emotions and feelings are a bit like the weather. Something can set me off and I feel myself reeling for a while. The funny thing is that when I witness the shift in weather on my walks, I'm able to recognize it simply as a change in weather.

Somehow emotions are bit trickier. It seems that everyone's emotions are on high these days. One little bit of information from a friend or loved one or a snippet of news from social media can set me off down a rabbit hole of confusion, anger or disbelief. 

Have you ever found yourself looking at one thing online and then next thing you know you've followed the information trail down into a hole that is a bottomless pit of information, opinions, ideas, thoughts, angry words or convincing arguments? It's pretty easy to do these days. 

Most of the information out there feels like it's meant to distract and divide people.

These days, when I feel that chaotic feeling creeping in from online information overload, I literally shut off every single device in the middle of whatever I'm doing and head out into nature. I'm able to walk away and leave my work for an hour or so because I work from home and I set the hours. This is one of the silver linings of my online job.

The other silver lining is being able to live out here on Cape Cod, out in the middle of the ocean, where nature literally calls me outside constantly. 

The bigger perspective is right out my front door right now. We don't have street lights out here, so millions of stars and the Milky Way are often visible on a clear night. Sometimes, while working, I hear an owl or a coyote and go up to the upper deck to listen. Sometimes the moon lights up our entire master bedroom on the second floor or the wind howls and shakes the windows in their frames or we wake up to snow gently falling all around us. 

The bigger perspective is always right there and it's not an accident that I've put myself  smack dab in the middle of Nature, where it's hard not to see it. 

The information highway comes to me through a tiny screen on either my phone or computer. It comes in pixels that join together to create this virtual reality.

Outside, the lens is wide. With each step I take outside my front door, I feel a release of all the heavy baggage that has somehow taken up space in my being. 

All of it leaves me instantly when I step outside. It's the one thing that is keeping me sane these days. A call and response conversation with a bright red cardinal high up on a tree branch is more real for me than talking into a computer with tiny squares of pixeled people.

I miss deep connections with people out here. I really do. I have my boyfriend and a few friends, but I miss face to face conversations and looking directly into people's eyes. I miss hugs and body language and laughter and sitting in the same room with people breathing. 

I get a sense of that when I walk outside amongst people, but it's not the same as sitting in a live circle with like-minded souls. 

Inside millions of rooms around the world people communicate with each other virtually. This is both amazing and disturbing at the same time. These quick, short words we type to each other don't tell the full story. The lens is too close. I can't see the full picture. 

I can't hear the inflection in your voice, 

Or see your eyes,

Or feel your touch,

Or really know what's going on inside. 

For now, nature will have to do until I can really experience YOU.

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: Blizzard on the Beach

 
"Lighten up while you still can, don't even try to understand, just find a place to make your stand and take it easy."—Jackson Browne

Well, I kinda understand why people head South for the winter. Today we had blizzard-like weather on the beach. I thought about going for a walk with Scott out in it. He hasn't worked for two days due to the weather. Most of his jobs in his friend's contracting business are outside. 

So, we put on 4-5 layers this afternoon—3 pairs of pants/long underwear, two shirts and a sweater, ski pants/jackets, gloves, hat(s), and face masks in preparation for heading out into the cold. In the end, my eyes were the only things you could see. 

The roads had been salted, so the snow hadn't accumulated on the streets as we drove to Nauset Beach on the Atlantic Ocean. I thought, We'll just go for a little walk down the beach.

With the temperatures dipping down into the low teens and 30-40 mile gusts of wind, that walk didn't last long. We tried to drive up to Wellfleet to see the town in white, but it was seriously getting blizzard-like out there so we went home. 

Well, we signed up for this. We decided we wanted A Year on Cape Cod. Well, almost a year. We are here at least until June 19th, if not longer. 

But today...well today I was not prepared for a blizzard on the beach.

How many people would choose that as a vacation destination?

This isn't a vacation, though. This is our life. We are Cape Codders, for now.

Somehow the snow and wind, which forced us to be inside, made me realize just how isolated I am out here. When I'm out in nature, I feel so connected. When I can't get out in it and am home-bound, it's hard to feel connected. 

I have NOT been following the news lately and have not been surfing the internet much. I have enjoyed lots of meditation, rest, writing, teaching, etc. I've enjoyed tuning in. But I do miss friends and family.

Given our current weather conditions today, I thought, just for a few moments, maybe I'll run away to Florida and see my family and friends down there. It's 70 degrees in the daytime. 

Maybe I will or maybe I won't go?

Yes, sometimes life can feel cold, lonely, and isolating. But that's life!

'Blizzard on the Beach' is the perfect backdrop for that. It's as good a backdrop as any and the wildness of it has its own intrigue.

After all, life has its seasons and truthfully, I am a girl who appreciates seasons. I love long summers that seem to hold on until late September, fall (oh, my favorite!) when the leaves start to turn and everything, especially in New England, turns to fiery oranges, reds and yellows. I love the first snow and decorating for the season and getting in the holiday spirit. 

But there's this time, between mid-January to March that seems like it will never end. In Seattle, it's WET and dreary with occasional sun breaks. Here in Massachusetts, the cold bites right through you. But on the Cape, we've been lucky. The weather dips down, but doesn't stay down thanks to the ocean which warms everything up. And man, I've soooo appreciated the SUN out here. I'm not use to all this sun, being a Seattle-girl and all. I could very-well become a sun worshiper. I could chase that sun around the globe. I need that light and warmth. I need to feel it in my bones, even if it's bitter cold outside. 

I shouldn't complain. In Bristol, Vermont, where we went to see the leaves change in the fall, it's 5 degrees Here on Cape Cod at 5:48pm on a Friday night, it's 21 degrees. I'll take 21 degrees over 5 degrees any day.

Today, after attempting our walk on Nauset Beach, we drove over to Thumpertown Beach on the bay side, near our house.  Scott and I sat in his truck staring out into the snow and icy waves. Seagulls flew sideways and the wind shook the car and blew the dry snow in swirls around the parking lot. Jackson Browne came on the radio singing his hit song, Take it Easy.

Take it easy, take it easy

Don't let the sound of your own wheels 

Drive you crazy

Lighten up while you still can

Don't even try to understand

Just find a place to make your stand

And take it easy....

In the spirit of taking it easy, Scott turned to me and said, "Maybe this would be a great day to take the kayak out!"

He was joking, of course, but it brought in a flood of memories of warm endless summer days when that now icy bay was flat, calm warm and inviting. I was reminded of a day late in September when it was in the 70s still and we took the kayak out and swam around until sundown. 

Ah, life, I'm not even trying to understand anymore. I'm just going with what my gut tells me to do. I'm not following anyone. What's the point of that? 

Each day is a gift, really. The rest...well... 

In the end, what matters? That I followed what everyone else told me to do or that I lived well? 

Everyone has got to make there own decisions in this life. Where you go and what you do is up to you. I'm not here to convince you of anything, except maybe to tell you that all the the answers you need, you've already got. It's just a matter of tuning in. And perhaps....taking it easy.

Seattle Girl on Cape Cod: Living Like a Gypsy in These Unprecedented Times. We are RAMBLING ON!

Hello fellow EARTHLINGS,

How are you on this fine Friday night?

 I'm living like a gypsy in these unprecedented times. It wasn't planned. It's the cards I was dealt, but I couldn't have asked for a better hand.

 I think I may have made lemonade out of lemons. Somehow I'm living my dream life out here on Cape Cod, 

 I've always been a wanderer. I've lived an entire life of adventure.

"One day you will settle down." I've heard these words over and over again as each decade has passed, and yet I'm still on the road.

And I'm so grateful where I've landed.

I'm grateful that I have always been open to "whatever is next." Life is unpredictable with many twists and turns. I think it becomes a lot more enjoyable when I LET GO of the reigns or at least loosen up on them a bit and see where this life wants to take me. Of course I have my own intentions, dreams and ideas, but flexibility has been a key ingredient in navigating this thing called life. 

 I'm not sure I've always sought out the gypsy life, perhaps it's sought out me? I have always been open to it. When the pandemic hit, I was living at my parents' house in Sequim while they were snow birding down in Arizona. Eventually they returned in May, and I needed to find a place to go. I had been looking for a place to buy on the Olympic Peninsula and nothing panned out. I made offers on houses, but it wasn't in my cards.  I'm now 51, and I still don't have a house of my own. I could curse the universe for giving me a gypsy life, but I've decided to embrace it. 

Truth be told, one part of me longs for a cat and a home that is all my own, but a bigger part of me LOVES, absolutely loves the life I have.

You know what's funny, just as I'm loving this life in front of me, I have a strange feeling, a premonition if you will, that I WILL find that house and cat. I see myself sharing this lovely home with my boyfriend Scott. It always happens that way, doesn't it?  When you let go and open, what wants to come in usually does. 

 We thought we'd have to move out of this house at the end of November. The owner had winter renters and we couldn't stay past December 1st, so we thought.

But the house sold in September while we were in the house, so we were meant to be the last renters. All the winter renters on the books had to find something else.

Then the deal fell through. The house didn't sell.

 Now the owner was without renters for the winter, so we asked if we could stay through the spring. The owner agreed.

But it JUST SOLD AGAIN! The new owners close on April 20th. 

WE LOVE THIS HOUSE! 

But I don't know if we've loved it enough to buy it and it was out of our price range anyway. 

However, we had a very good run here. We got to stay in a HUGE house right by the beach from mid-September to April.

We've loved the short walk down the shell path to the glorious bay where we've watched dozens of sunsets, swum in the warm waters, collected shells and rocks, kayaked, star-gazed, moon-gazed, kissed.

 We've loved our home and cooking up a storm in the huge kitchen or sitting out on the back deck on a sunny day with appetizers and a cool drink or gazing at a meteor shower from the upper deck. 

We've enjoyed crock-pot soups on fall nights, and our first snow here and decorating for Christmas. We've loved movies in the sweet living room and eating fresh Wellfleet oysters from down the street. We've loved everything about this place. I've loved teaching my college classes upstairs in my office nook and Scott's loved his contracting job on the Lower Cape. He's loved coming home, showering, grabbing a bite to eat and then wandering down the path to the beach for sunset. It's so peaceful here. There's no light pollution. There are so many stars. Nature is wild. There are foxes, and coyotes, and wild turkeys and old graveyards with pilgrims from the Mayflower in them and fish shacks and beach knick knacks. 

And now it's time to go.

But we aren't ready to leave. 

WE AREN'T READY TO LEAVE! 

There, I said it. 

So I found another house 10 minutes away. It is equal in size and charm and close to a swimming pond and First Encounter Beach. It's got a deck and lots of rooms and it's near the bike path. I'm EXCITED about this new adventure down the street. Yes, new adventures can even happen DOWN THE STREET!!! I'll be sad to leave this house, but we stayed longer than we expected to.

And so this new chapter starts on April 1 and ends on June 19. Summer on the Cape is outrageous. Prices go up 10 times. We don't know where we will go come June. We don't know.

But we have from January 22-June 20th. We have at least 5 more months....at least! We've bought ourselves more time here. We want to feel the spring come around the bend. Watch the flowers bloom. Take a dip in the pond down the road from our new abode. Watch the sky get lighter and lighter as the days get longer and longer. We aren't done with this beach town yet.

A year on Cape Cod. 

Give me a year on Cape Cod so I can taste every season. I want to feel it all. This gypsy is hanging out for awhile here. The winds of change have only blown us down the street. The Nor-easter didn't even drive us out. 

We are here to stay for now. Yes, this gypsy is staying put....and loving EVERY SECOND of it.

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.

Riding the Winds of Change

"Sometimes in the winds of change, we find our true direction."—Unknown

 For two days straight, the wind blew shaking the windows in their frames. The howling through the trees surrounding our house on Cape Cod kept me up at night. The entire atmosphere was charged with the energy this wind had created. Two nights ago, my partner lay next to me sleeping, and I lay on my back staring at the ceiling wide awake. I was calm and safe inside, but there were moments when I felt like the wind might just pick up this house and blow it over Cape Cod Bay out into the open sea. I wasn't afraid, I was awake. 

The howling, whipping wind felt appropriate for what is going on on the OUTSIDE, out there in the world. I feel the heavy energy of the world out on the periphery. I'm not close to it, being that I'm choosing to live here out on a sand bar in the ocean. The ocean has a way of softening the sharp edges. It cleanses and reshapes. It has a way of taking all that's solid and stuck and making it flow again. I couldn't think of a better place to be right now, honestly.  Nature speaks to me all the time out here. It's where I get my news these days. 

I haven't checked the election results. I have no idea who is president of our country. I'm choosing to linger in the unknown. It's the only place any of us can really be sure of anyway. What do we know? Looking to nature for the news this morning, like I usually do, the headline to match the experience was CALM AFTER THE STORM.

I woke up to sun streaming through all 6 large, bedroom windows. Our room sits up high in the tree tops on the second floor. I could see blue birds and finches happily fluttering about the tops of the trees singing their songs. My boyfriend was already downstairs brewing coffee and singing a tune. He called up to me, "Hey, wanna go for a walk on the beach?" I pulled on some jeans, a fleece sweatshirt, wool socks and headed downstairs. We drank coffee together and chatted, but he soon realized there wasn't time for a beach walk, he had to head out to work. He's been working with his college friend in his carpentry business for the last two months since we got here. It's one of the reasons we were able to move here for the off-season. My job at Edmonds College in Washington State went online after the pandemic hit, so I can work from anywhere. Scott was finishing up carpentry jobs in Washington, so he was in a good position to move. So, at the end of August, we packed up all of our worldly possessions, some went into a tiny storage unit, one for each of us, and the rest traveled across county with us in Scott's truck. I sold my car to come here. Being car-less has forced me to use my body to get around and to be creative. I walk or bike lots of places. Thankfully, we live near a beach and there is a 26-mile bike trail near our house that goes to several nearby towns. Scott has been loving working outside in Wellfleet, Eastham and Orleans on the Lower Cape. Most of the home owners are gone for the season, so they spend their time sanding and refinishing decks and siding, pulling up beach stairs, putting storm windows on houses and repairing this or that. He sometimes sends me pictures of where he is working: a gorgeous house right on the cliff of a beach or an artsy house hidden in the trees. It's really a dream come true for both of us to be here. The fact that Scott's 96-year-old mom lives in Sandwich and that his brother and cousin live out here, along with several friends, made it easy for us to come.

And our house, well it's also a dream. A dream that we are currently living in anyway. We found a longterm rental in Eastham, near the beach that normally goes for $12,000 a month in the high season. We got it for 10 times less in the off-season. It was cheaper for us to come here than rent in Seattle. Our house is big for the two of us. But after living in tiny, one-room basement dwellings together, it is so nice to have all the space. We have not one, but three bathrooms. We are loving every minute of being here. I love the ocean being so close. I love that I am living on a sand bar with wild nature all around.

So Scott headed off to work and I wandered down the seashell path from our house to the beach.

 All the beach stairs along our private beach have been hoisted up for the season. The windows on the houses facing the bay have been boarded up and storm-proofed. I have to walk the wooden stairs halfway down to a rock landing and then scramble down over boulders the rest of the way to the beach.

 I can't believe that on October 22nd, I launched myself off one of those boulders into the warm bay waters where I lay on my back for what seemed like an hour, letting the buoyant salt water hold me up. Now, a chill was in the air and I donned a long, lightweight down jacket. The sun was bright in the sky and and the waning full moon was still out. I stumbled down onto the gold sand. The water had soft ripples, but otherwise was flat and calm. I walked down on the sand. The tide was coming in. By 1pm, it would be up to the beach steps. The calm in the air was so gentle. The seagulls sat motionless on the beach and little sand pipers were actively eating bugs and algae by a patch of beach grass. A rippled sand bar stretched out for a mile. I walked out on it mesmerized by the intricate, grooved pattern in the sand. How these patterns form and then are washed away was symbolic to me. The sand glistened in the warm sun and little gold specks popped out. I picked up a handful of these tiny grains and let them sift through my fingers. So small, these grains of sand are, that make up the beauty of the the beach. The wild ocean and winds were always molding, shaping and changing the environment. Who knows, really, if this little sand bar known as Cape Cod would be here in the future? Well, it's here now. And I am here now.

Somehow I was able to ride the wind out and enjoy the calm after the storm. Our house is still standing and there wasn't any devastation. I knew that if I went INSIDE, deep within myself, I'd be just fine. I didn't need to get pulled into its fury or curse its sound. I could listen to it objectively, knowing that it wouldn't last forever. None of this is forever. And that, somehow brought me great peace and allowed me to step out into the calmness of the day today, fully present and fully alive. What a gift it is to be here now.