March 13th. Finding a Place to Happen

Your intuition, your inner guidance, supports your higher life purpose, but many of us have a tendency to ignore it. Sometimes, the universe steps in and gives you an extra push with an amazing synchronicity.

I'm pretty sure I saw a golden eagle today. Which is wierd. I guess this entry might be about... life purpose, how you find it, and how it finds you.

Sometimes it's hard to tell golden eagles from juvenile bald eagles, both generally appear as completely dark. But I've seen quite a few juvies over the last 6 months, and they tend to look patchy, whereas goldens, even though they do have some light splotches, tend to appear totally dark in bad light. Who knows. They live in that area, so I'm going to assume it was because... that works for me.

I was in Surrey BC, it was about 8:45 am, and I was driving by a salt marsh. I was listening to "looking for a place to happen," by the Tragically Hip.
I thought, "maybe after work I'll take a drive along the coast and see if I see a golden eagle..." I've thought of March 13 as my 'eagle-birthday' since my first sighting of one on that day in 2005. It was a moment of awakening, and the golden eagle is the bird the 'Phoenix' is based on - symbol of rebirth, so it's kinda like a birthday.
I literally completed that thought, and a huge bird of prey lifted out of the marsh to my left, and flew over the highway in front of me.
I couldn't stop, too much traffic. I didn't need to. I thought at first it was a bald eagle, looked for the white tail - none; I peered. My eyes aren't what they used to be, but it was all dark, like the one I saw on March 13th 2005.

Preface: let's be clear - I don't necessarily think animals are sending me messages, although I haven't ruled that out. But I am sure that I can take whatever lessons I want from the world around me. As a synchronous event (4 seen in my life, 2 on March 13th's, both March 13th's being Sundays): I guess it does bear the question of what these things mean, no pun intended.

To ascribe an intention to chance is either the height of absurdity or the depth of profundity - according to the way in which we understand it. - Arthur Schopenhauer

Sighting 1 - March 13th 2005. It was a Sunday afternoon, I was on my way to school to study. I was in second year law school. My life was a mess, my marriage was a disaster, my career - was in question - I was unsure of what direction to go. And then I saw this giant thing -  I'm sure she had a ten foot windspan - on the Arm in Halifax. I almost crashed, pulled my car over, watched. The seagulls didn't know what to make of her - they crowded around, but were afraid to get close and there was huge empty space around her. I watched her till she flew off, into the mystery.
I say her because, among birds of prey, females are larger. It's hard to imagine a bird bigger than this. I've seen hundreds of bald eagles, this bird was significantly larger than any I've ever seen.
She said: "Follow your highest ideals." It was an absolute turning point in my life. I started making changes, making decisions based on what I really wanted out of life, and where I wanted to go.

 Nature's a temple where living columns

 Sometimes deliver messages in riddles;

 Man makes his way through forests of symbols

 That watch him with intimate knowledge.

        - Baudelaire

Sighting 2 - Geneva, June 2006. I don't remember the day, it's in one of my journals. It was also a Sunday afternoon. It was our last afternoon in Geneva, a city I love, and we had it off. I was there, as the final stage of my law degree - doing a certificate in international public law - "save the world" type stuff. All Geneva brought up for me, despite visits to the Red Cross and UN headquerters - was that I wanted to be an artist one day, in the future, when I got sick of "saving the world."
Walking back with my friend Anatoly from the health food store in France I had insisted we go to  (it was about 2 hours away, I bought some cookies - they were good) we met up with some other students. It was a sunny early summer afternoon, we were walking along the lake shore, laughing, talking; goofing off. I hadn't let myself goof off, or really enjoy life - for years. It's been hard to re-learn. I was obsessed with some skewed self-image of being sober and responsible. Which I thought excluded fun. There was this bird, clearly a bird of prey - flying around above us as we walked back to the hotel in the sunny sunshine.
He was just goofing off - whirling around, doing flips, and spins, turning over in the air - showing off a bit, but not for us, or anyone - but just to say; "I can." Or maybe "wheeeeee!"
I went back to the library and discovered golden eagles live in Switzerland, and they are the only bird there that fits his description. Hmph.
He said: "remember to enjoy the process - have fun!"

"I don't dream in the night so much, or don't remember. I dream like this. I need to know if I should go out west, and I look up and there are three geese in flight, flying west like an arrowhead, with a hawk in front of them. Those three geese, the way they were flying, told me to go west." - Freida Jacques, Mother of the Turtle Clan of the Onondaga People.

Sighting 3 - The Rockies, the Yellowhead Highway, late July 2010. Clyf and I were driving across Canada, well, part of it. I hate it when people say that when they're driving from Ontario or Quebec to BC. Ummm?
We were driving along in silence, the Hip on the stereo (again, I know). "Let's stay engaged" was playing. There was some road kill up ahead. Two ravens came along and chased off a big bird of prey as we got close. It's colour was clear as it swooped off across the highway in front of us, flying fast, low down, between some trees, with the two ravens chasing it: it had a golden sheen.
Clyf and I looked at each other - "was that?" "um, really?" "Holy shit."
"That was a golden eagle, wasn't it?" Clyf said. I said, "yes, it was."
That lesson was more nuanced: "Stay engaged," it has two interpretations for me (Clyf, did it say anything to you?).
One element is romance - "take your time, there's no rush. If someone cares about you they'll hang around." It has taken me a while to get that, but considering we've moved on to the next lesson - I guess I've got it enough to scrape by. The other is - to stay "engaged" with life. Stay engaged with the world around me, do things/work of concrete value, stay connected, stay grounded.
The two are one. For me. Balance in personal relationships + being the way I like to be in the world (in it) = happiness. A rich spiritual life is important to me too, but that element's a given. Clearly.

Your function is to create the point of your life.

In so doing, you create your Self.

You decide

who and what you really are -

and who you are going to be.

Sighting 4. March 13th, 2011. Also a Sunday. Last night I started a little book I had kicking around my car that I picked up over the summer. It's called "Bringers of the Light," by Neale Donald Walsch. It seemed a bit pretentious, but looked neat too.
The first chapter is called, "Life is pointless, and that is God's greatest gift." I've thought that for years, but it was a nice reminder - you can just pick whatever you want to do, or what your meaning of life is, which I suppose is what I've done. Maybe this is a reminder that I can change that too, refine it.

"Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life. It is a waste to be asking the question when you are the answer." - Joseph Campbell

The phrase, looking for a place to happen - kinda says that: where do you choose to happen? Where do you want to choose to happen? Where do I?
Because we can pick anything we want: money, or meaning, relationships, love, family, stability, adventure, God, ourselves, any combination, anything we can imagine - and, like the lesson from the Razors Edge and Apocalypse Now - "everyone gets what they want."

Life is synchronous. I've had lots of self doubt lately as I look for work and try to find my next step, so this event, like the other three, also says - "don't worry - you're on your path." I've been doubting that lately because I can't see my next step, but the point is - whatever that next step is - that is my path - my 'place to happen,' as long as my heart says yes. Old Joe also said:

If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it's not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That's why it's your path.

Thank you.

Take off and landing, reflections...

Ok, going to keep it a little more mundane this time (or - I'll do my best). I realize my last entry may have won some awards for obscurity, especially for non-Tragically Hip fans.
Besides, I don't seem to have as much time for writing these days, or more importantly - reflection. That is one of the really nice things about being on a genuine wander - you've got lots of time to think! And I need a lot - 'cause I'm pretty slow.


Take off, landing,  - in the life of an adventurer, traveller through life; take off = leaving to go travelling. Pretty easy, most people have done it. Landing = coming home. Really easy. If you live with your parents. Or a spouse. Or if you have an apartment and job to come back to.
If you gave up your apartment and job, and are far away from where you started - it's a little more complicated.
I gotta say, this is my first time doing this: making the transition from active travelling, without a place to return to, to stopping somewhere for a while - setting up a job, place to live, etc. This landing has been about as graceful as a drunk duck in a windstorm. Thank God I have good friends.


I put it off too long - until I was already in an awkward position. I should have started looking for a job in August. I think part of my delay was that I had reservations around 'settling' - and wanted to keep moving/doing exciting things. Tripped up by own self-image!
Not the first time...


Life has helped me see that I am in fact going forward regardless, using an image I used in the last entry: that of sailing far from shore, like the Viking explorers, feeling like you're way out at sea and the only way you'll ever see land, green, or fresh water again - is to go back, then suddenly you see - ahead - Land! New land. A new world.
Or in the language of Apocalypse Now - once you get outta the boat - the only thing to do is go foward.


Every travel has some sketchy moments, or you're not doing it right.
I remember the first time I went hitchiking, anywhere far. I was 19. I looked 12. I set out to hitchhike across Canada. It was July 18th 1992. I knew some guys in Sussex NB, one of Canada's two absolute hitchhiking dead-zones (the other is Wawa Ontario), and figured I could crash there my first night, knowing I wouldn't get past Sussex (or thinking that, I actually blew by it the year after that.. ).
Anyway, the guys weren't around. There were no campgrounds, no hostel, no nothing. This was my first night "on the road." My skills were not sharp. I slept in the woods, under the stars, next to the highway.
I didn't have a good sleep, as this was my first night ever sleeping out with no tent, and it takes some getting used to (I had a tent, the best tent ever - an outward bound 1.5 person, but it would have been visible from the highway).
Now I love it - sleeping under the stars.
There was a little hotel next door to my patch of woods by the highway, and I got up the following morning to investigate breakfast and maybe make a phone call. It was 7:30 am. Breakfast - was expensive and looked crappy. I skipped it in favour of backpack supplied peanut butter sandwiches.
I was feeling - daunted. My first night/day of travel had not gone that well. Was I crazy? Were my friends, who held a funeral for me the night after I left, right - was I just setting out to get myself killed? Was my love of adventure and lust to see the world - just a veil for self-destructiveness? What in the ff did I think I was doing? I asked myself.
I called my Mom, she thought I was 'getting the bus' across Canada. It seemed like a necessary fib.
But she could tell, at 7:30 am, that I was troubled and a bit scared. She asked me to come home. Said she'd help me do it right, if this was what I really wanted - organize things, get the bus/plane set up properly - have places to stay lined up. Tempting, I was tempted.
To do what? Seek safety? Turn my back on my self?
I think there's a time and place to seek safety, and a time to take risks.
I walked down to the highway, young, scared, facing a world I knew nothing about. I looked east, back, the past. I looked west - forward - the future, the unknown, uncertain.
I took out my piece of cardboard and wrote 'Edmonston' on it, put out my thumb, and kept going. By that night I was in Quebec city partying with a crazy Scottish guy named Angus, the morning of doubt forgotten, but never really forgotten. I had moved forward into - the person I am today. And my friends who held a funeral for me, because they thought I'd never make it, surely be killed, were right. That Pat that they knew - never returned.


"The person who goes farthest is generally the one who is willing to do and dare. The sure-thing boat never gets far from shore." Dale Carnegie

Maybe Dale, maybe.


Now I'm in BC looking for work etc. The winter just gone by has felt a bit similar to that moment, although I'm not sure what safety I would or could have sought. At this point in life it seems more clear that there is only one direction - forward. Although it has many guises.


For now, I've seen that I need to get my career on track so I can A - continue to do work of value and meaning to me, and B - have the flexibility I want in life, to travel more, to live in other places in the future, enjoy life and make room for more people in it. And C - to make some friggin money!


While I have committed to this lifestyle - I never intended to be a sad lonely wanderer all my life (I've hardly been sad and lonely!). But rather to figure out this lifestyle, and then make room for others, so I could one day maybe have a partner in this fiasco, and possibly some progeny as well. Maybe a home base. I never intended to give those things up but rather - to have it all, if possible: a life of passion and adventure, filled with love, and guided by love for my fellow man, or something... beyond; God, Truth, whatever you call it. "Everything comes to us that belongs to us if we set up the capacity to receive it." (Rabindranath Tagore). When I set out last July 1st that was what I was doing - setting up the possibility of having the life of my dreams.


The road goes ever on and on
down from the door where it began


A young Lady sent me this quote recently, and it reminded me of that moment way back then on the highway, the winter I've been passing through. I think this is one of life's toughest lessons:

"Life is a good teacher and a good friend. Things are always in transition, if we could only realize it. To stay with that shakiness - to stay with a broken heart, with a rumbling stomach, with the feeling of hopelessness and wanting to get revenge - that is the path of true awakening. Sticking with that uncertainty, getting the knack of relaxing in the midst of chaos, learning not to panic - this is the spiritual path."  - Pema Chodron

Sticking with that feeling of wanting to get revenge?? My bro is a spiritual master. ;) He is, actually.
I'm pretty good at embracing uncertainty in some areas of life - not as good in others. But I'm learning. On a more mundane note: landings. For those out there who are also travelling without a place to land or go back to:


- Find a job sooner than later.

- Don't see stopping, getting a job and apartment, as a let down - it's part of the journey!
- Line up numerous places to stay.
- Have a back up plan - if you don't find work when you plan to - how to survive and keep things moving ahead.
- House-sitting is good. It's an easy way to get a cheap pre-fab place to live/stay. And some personal intro's.

Some of these things I did, and others I can now see the value in. I've certainly embraced uncertainty. That doesn't mean I'm not scared shitless occassionally, or I don't fall on my face now and then. But, if you never fall on your face - have you really taken any risks?

So, there's two divergent themes in this blog. Or are there? Clearly, I don't believe that. But how do take off/landing, and that moment of crossing the borderline - fit together?

ps - as I hit publish - just finished watching Joe Kidd, with Clint Eastwood. Suddenly saw that his character he developed over those movies-  clearly formed but rough around the edges in Joe Kidd - is archetypally the same as Conan. It is the essential male spiritual warrior. Good at the core, aloof, unattached.

Really? Pat, you're crazy.

More on that later.

For now, also in that movie: those mountains - rolling, sharp peaked, warm, forbidding - interior California..

I miss California. Like the first time I came to BC, like I said before; it is in my soul. Like music you hear and never forget. Like BC, I think I might maybe live there one day.

Brother, my brother, whither do you pass?

Unto what hill at dawn, unto what glen,

Where among the rocks the faint lascivious grass

Fingers in lust the arrogant bones of men?

Ok, it's been awhile (No Threat).

Where have I been? Well, since my last entry I have been to Halifax and back, and now I'm in Vancouver again, staying with a very good, hospitable friend while I try to find a job.

Hm. I walked around Stanley Park this afternoon, the west facing afternoon sunny side. It was windy and cool, and the sun was really bright. It reminded me of a day in August/Sept, walking the beach at Point Reyes in Northern California. I like that feeling - like the wind and sun are passing right through you: 'you' seem somehow less relevant, more able to let go of all the bullshit notions you've got of who you are, who you were, and where you're going.

Because it's only when we let go of those illusions, and delusions, that we can start living. Or keep living.

I went back to Halifax for a number of reasons - to take care of some personal stuff I didn't finish up while there over the holidays, despite the no white flag policy, and: to see a woman. The mermaid, of course, who else would a wandering adventurer fall for in a fun, seedy port and a nation's ocean playground?
It was a fabulous, fabulous visit. Who knows where it will go, but we spent a lot of time outdoors, walking beaches and one another's favourite places, a lot of time alone together, and met / saw friends and family.

I've started a number of entries in the last 12 days or so, and wrote a whole one in paper in my journal on the plane. They may get written out here one day, in some form. The written one was about meditation, love, travel, and the objective observer. I haven't been objective enough to type it out. ;)

Work. Wtf? I thought I was on a wild, crazy adventure! Do I need a job(incredulous)?
Yes, yes I do.
True liberty is being in your right place. I was in it, and man, it was fun! After a lot of death, divorce and mountains of bullshit, I needed a break, I took it, and, like the pine I mentioned many blogs ago (two horses?) it was slightly selfish and... right. A starving person can't feed others.
And, in the vein of that blog I think I am now trying to drive my chariot with two different opposite horses, not black and white, but one the colour of clay, the other - see through. An empty cup and day to day reality. I guess this blog is even more full of strange references and oddly placed allusions - but what can I say, I haven't written for a while, and I've got pent up obscurity!

how will I know?
how will I know if I'm helping?
moreso, how will she know if I'm helping?
if I'm not in the saddle, I'm nothing - that's right!

I must admit I'm finding the job hunt challenging - it seemed I had so many professional options back in December, but now that I want them - they're playing hard to get. That's fine. I'm at a point of transition, taking my adventure from one phase to the next - now the new world I'm entering is not geographical, but personal, social, professional - all places you could say I've been before, but I think what is new, unknown, and as-yet-undiscovered - is the possibilty of a new kind of authenticity, living my ideals in a real tangible way here in the world.

And I'm glad I went to Stanley Park today and stood in that wind, and let that sun pass right through me - to 'empty my cup' - because clearly - on this point of transition - I wouldn't be having difficulty if I didn't have any bullshit illusions about who I am, where I've been, and where I'm going. What are they?

If I knew, I'd be sparing myself what is, I'm sure, a really great life lesson!

I suspect it's something about manifestation, about taking ideas and making them real, which sometimes means a few alterations. And I know - some aspects are okay to alter, others are not, and that the trick is knowing which is which. I'm not sure I have the trick yet.

However, I do know some things that are pretty important to me:
1 - Life is fabulous, even on the challenging days, it is a mind-blowing adventure, and being in it, seeing it's constant iridescent, shimmering, shocking, utterly terrifying beauty, and horror, and imperfect perfection - is the only worthwhile use of any moment. Harder than it looks though.
2 - We are all made of clay. We live in clay. If we have big ideas; we have to make them out of clay.
3 - I have a job - I explore. I think the world I'm exploring now is scarier than Compton, but a lot more worthy to me. Although Compton was fun to pass through.
4 - I love writing. (Not saying I'm good at it, or that anyone reads it. Ok, my bro and a few friends and mer-people read it, and a Russian couple that are architects. They compete with my bro for the 'most faithful reader' prize. It will involve cookies. They'll probably be organic, preservative free (and made by me), so they may not mail well. Considering that, if the Russians win - they should probably come here and get them. In which case, I guess I should throw in dinner, a big bottle of vodka, and a place to crash for the night. If my bro wins I guess we'll mail the vodka to the Russians anyway, so really - you're already ahead of 'Pats homemade cookies.' Maybe they should go for second prize. The prizes will awarded at the thousandth entry, or when I'm 127 years old, whichever comes first.)
5 - I know there are bad mermaids out there, but there are good ones too. One's who believe in liberty, ideals and reality, and perhaps - interdependance vs. codependance. Or is that me? Did you know that some maple trees, who have very deep tap roots, bring three times the water they need to the surface, and distribute it to the plants around them? Crazy maple trees.
6 - I've "put safety fifth."

Little mermaid, you lured me, with your bad intentions. You lured me with talk of still more talk. I love it when you ramble. Are we the completists? I'm not sure what he means by that, so I don't want to say yes or no. Cleary, I am, once again - drinking beer and listening to the Tragically Hip. How else would I write a blog? Or are we "volition moving in the paths of chance."? Dunno. Time will tell.

But I do know that - I do miss my ma and pa, but not the way that I do miss you.

a door where there was none...

Ok, I've been working on this entry way too long. Not much blog-time these days, but it's been time well spent. :) I drafted this about 10 days ago, I'm just going to edit and post. There's lots more to say in the next entry...

So, 'the Rover' is back in Vancouver. Spent a few days on Quadra Island again, seeing my dog and some friends. My friend Gabriel thinks Nootka is his dog, but really - he's mine.

What is this entry about?, I ask myself. A feather (another one ;), a turn, a surprise, a long long wonderful road called life. A door. Where to begin?

There it was, suspended in the rain, in some thin bush, under a tree, on Rebecca Spit, on Quadra Island. A white tail feather from a bald eagle. As I said in "The Sea (it's warm and it's safe here)," - "in the mail!"
And again, I'm drinking beer and listening to the Tragically Hip. But this was not mailed to my bro, but to the mermaid in my life.

I guess this entry may be about faith.

I went to the spit with some friends. They brought beer, I did not. We wandered in the rain and chatted, the dogs chased each other, a giant white mutt and a pug, sweet friends. I shuffled through the beach-side debris, little chunks of wood ground up by the Sea. Dawdled. Stood. Conversation moved to something I couldn't keep my attention on.
My attention was in Halifax, so I walked off alone.

In 1993, living on the beach at Schooner Cove, the place "The Sea" is about, I was sitting one morning making breakfast, Gabriel was off being energetic, and there was no-one else around. The eagle flew over, the third or fourth day in a row this scene had happenned - he flew out to sea every day, it seemed, to fish for the day, a strange lifestyle - but he was a widower, and probably developed odd habits to ease his grief. His wife (they mate for life) was killed earlier that year for her feathers. I can hardly say anything about that on the internet that might not haunt me later...
Anyway, this particular morning, he flew over. I looked up. Said, 'good morning' as had become our custom. As I put my head down I said/thought, wtf??  and looked back up. There was something - white, fluttering - in the sky behind/below him..
I watched, in awe, paralysed. Slowly it fluttered down, and without my moving a muscle, landed right between my feet. It was a white tail feather. Like he had dropped it on me. He had.
I was stunned and humbled and awed.
I picked it up, held it resting in my two hands, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever held in my life, not just because of what it was, but how it came to me.
Acquisitiveness -the desire to possess something, I learned that word from Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse. I felt that all of a sudden: I wanted it. It was such a powerful symbol, thing - like the ring in the Lord of the Rings. Immediately I said to myself, "no, Pat, you must give it away." And I said secretly inside myself, "if the Universe (God, whoever) really wants you to have this - it will find its way back to you."

As soon as my friend Gabriel came back to camp I gave it to him. He said to me at some point in that period, "Pat, you should be an environmental lawyer.." I couldn't see that as a possibility then. It takes years to open doors in your mind, and heart. To let yourself see the worlds that lie at your feet.

In 2008 I was living in Edmonton and went back to Tofino for the first time since 1993. I reconnected with those old friends from the beach. I moved to Toronto that May to article with MOE, and one of those friends sent me a care package 'from the beach.' No-one knew the eagle story.
I opened it, and pulled out a white tail feather. My friend Martha had found it on the beach by our old campsite, the first one she'd ever found, and immediatley thought, "that's for Pat." Of course, for those who know me - I cried a bit. It was the Universe saying to me, loud and clear - "Everything you need, everything you should have, will be given to you, you don't need to worry, seek it out, or cling to it." It said, "jump, and I will always catch you."
I wouldn't be here if not for that.
Part of that, for me, was jumping into being alone. Although I certainly haven't felt alone. But the risk has been ever present. And I've been vastly single for quite some time (until very recently). And it's about embracing the uncertainty of life, because if you're going to let go and let the Universe give you what you should have - you have to be willing to risk that there are certain things you shouldn't have.
So, when I found the white tail feather, hanging in a branch, I knew it was for her, the bad mermaid, good mermaid, damsel, and 'buddy', in my life. She is also a little bird, and a giant soul. You have it now. As I let go of the feather back then, what I let go of in this journey, over the late summer and fall, was my hopes for love in my life. Not that I gave up, I just let go.
And, in traipsing off into the wilderness of life, the great unknown future, following my bliss, I have found a door I didn't know was there. Or it found me.
The Universe will always give you what you should have. Perhaps more readily if you let it go. And I - am soaring with gratitude.

As a traveller, what do you do when a new door opens for you, a door where formerly there was nothing? And you can see a whole new world of possibilities; green fields, sunshine. How many of these doors do we get in life? I've talked, at times in a not-so-humble way, about making leaps of faith, having the courage to step out and put myself at risk, will I step through? Have I already? ;) Can I admit to being scared?

cause in the 'fergit yer skates' dream
you can hang your head in woe
as diverse as ever scenes
You know which way to go

I think I know which way to go...

No White Flag (the Rover and the Mermaid)

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

This song, White Flag - by Dido, I woke up with it in my head 3 days in a row. Each day I asked, why, what's that about?
Maybe I'm neurotic, but it became part of my dream journaling years ago - to note the song in my head as I awoke. I sometimes couldn't remember the actual dream, so instead I'd write down what I was feeling as I woke up. Not only does it tell me something about me, but it maintains the dialogue.
Then I started noticing that some mornings I'd wake up with a certain song in my head, and when I could recall my dream there was almost always a connection. When I couldn't I often found meaning in the song alone.
I was working on some stuff for my Dad's estate last week. It was daunting. I could have easily done a less thorough job, and let the lawyers tidy it up. The song inspired me - to not surrender, but to push through, and keep giving my best effort until the end. Which paid off.
Then another morning, and another. I think it's about everything in my life right now (yes, that too!).

I had a storage space to clean out. Between catching up with friends, visitng my Aunt in hospital, and the estate stuff, I left it till the last day. Part of me said, 'you can't finish it - why bother? Just leave it for next time." Dido said otherwise. I went, and did a lot, threw stuff out, gave stuff away, Arthur helped, and a new/old friend offered to take some too. It's not done, but I feel good about the progress I made. So, my last days in Halifax were spent learning a life lesson. One I feel like I used to know, but now maybe I can take it deeper. It is: whatever time you have - use it, if there is a hope - there should be action to realize that hope, it doesn't matter how slim the chances of success, or if it's the eleventh hour.
Clearly - it's about this escapade of mine as well. I certainly feel today, after a good night's sleep - undaunted. The thought of, "I will go down with this ship" doesn't mean - I'm going to steer this ship down (into the rocks), it means - I will steer between those rocks, past Scylla and Charybdis, no... charge between them. And if I fail, and the ship goes down, I'll go with it.
It's a comittment to 'going for it'.
The 'in love' part of the song - yes, I am. With myself, with life... more?? This whole trip has been about being in love with life, I have felt very much in love. And - two days ago, going through the storage space - I found an Irish wedding bracelet. It's woven silver, really beautiful. I had given it to my ex while in Galway with her in 1997, she gave it back after we split up. I thought, what the hell am I going to do with this? The Celts gave it instead of a wedding ring, back in the day. I didn't want to be married to anyone. Then I thought, 'well, this trip has also been about the conjunction of opposites - the 'marriage' of my masculine and feminine halves - I'll give it to myself!' It's nice to be loved. ;)
And I met a little mermaid in Halifax, a very sweet, wonderful woman. Well, really - we met years ago - but I was married. :( So how can this song which keeps coming back to me not be about that too?
It clearly is.
I'm reading The Rover right now, by Joseph Conrad. It's about a wandering seaman come to shore (so far) and has brought back all my mental imagery of the sea. In this case the ship I think of is The Spray - Joshua Slocum's sloop in which he sailed alone around the world in 1895-8. Funny, I just noticed his journey started in Sambro Nova Scotia, about 10 km south of where I grew up. I picture that intrepid little boat charging forth, into challenging and unknown seas, thrilled right down to her ironwood prow at the challenge and risk ahead.
I had what was for me a revolutionary thought as I walked up the steps to my Aunts place in Clayton park on New Years Eve day - that maybe in love it wasn't about finding the person I'm 'meant' to be with, but simply finding someone I'm compatible with, and choosing to build a good relationship. That's revolutionary for me because I see everything from the spiritual perspective- too much so at times. The reality is probably somewhere in between.
But then I did carry the thought to the rest of my life, a discussion I've had with myself before, and is most easily summed up in the quote from Terminator II - "no fate - no fate but what we make."
And I can see this is going to be a theme for me in 2011, to make the life I want: to make my destiny. I quoted Carlos Castaneda in a previous entry, but don't think I quite understood it.

"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length--and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly."

I got the breathlessly part, and the heart, but not the full length. That's also what this song is about for me - that it's not easy to travel one path's full length, but that, if you don't - it's a waste of time to step onto it at all.
I'm in Vancouver now, must find work, continue to grow, the journey goes on. After all this time of living life utterly on my own terms my batteries are pretty full, I feel like I have gotten over another hump of fear and self-doubt, and can see a huge vista before me ...a path paved with heart leading through it, in work, life, love - there will be no white flags.

The visitor, the lamp, killing time

Everyone has their limits. Everyone gets what they want. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I think I'm doing with my life. Am I trying to prove something? Just innocently taking time off?
What is my limit? At what point will I set sail for home?
Perhaps this is too frank, but - I am at the end of my financial rope, all credit cards maxed out, bills starting to go unpaid, no money in the bank and none on its way.  - it's really time to start working. But at what?
I did as I planned in "Irish Faerie" - I applied for a few jobs, and let God decide where I was going next, or at least begin to. They were: two posted jobs in Asia, one in Singapore, the other Hong Kong, and a firm in Vancouver that wasn't hiring. It was the firm in Van I heard from, we met and they may have a place for me in the new year. That would be fantastic, they do great work! But, in my meanderings, I also met someone at a First Nation I would love to work with, and they may have work for me too. Or neither might. Working directly for the First Nation, on the project envisioned, is an absolute once in a lifetime opportunity. That would open every door I want open in my professional path, and some in my personal journey too (as if there's any difference anymore!).

"Never get outta the boat. Never get outta the fuckin' boat - not unless you're gonna go all the way." - Captain Willard said that in Apocalypse Now, on their way up the river. He and the cook had gone into the jungle for water and a tiger attacked them (kind of half-heartedly). He followed it with, "Kurtz got outta the boat."
If, in choosing a particular lifestyle for myself, I have gotten out of the boat - what is my destination? Am I, ultimately, just killing time? In the big picture?... Again, how far am I willing to go?

I'm flying back to Vancouver in a few days. Do I buckle down and be responsible, or take further professional and personal risks? I think the important thing is, whatever I do - to do it consciously and intentionally, and from my heart. I have a feeling that if I take the riskier road - it may lead somewhere nice; a high mountain, bright sunshine, or something unknown, as I awaken in the big country.

                      This is My fold,
O thou ram horn'd with gold,
Who awakest from sleep
On the sides of the deep.
On the mountains around
The roarings resound
Of the lion and wolf,
The loud sea, and deep gulf.

Like in a yoga pose, when you start to tremble and think you can't hold it any longer, but you say to yourself - 'just a little more, it's ok,' so I have said to myself on this journey a few times. And now at last - I really can't see how to hold it any longer. And that, I suppose - is the place where beauty lies.
And again I notice - as the day approaches to get on a plane (2 days!), that increase in energy, drive, happiness - to get in a car, on a plane, it doesn't matter where I'm going, or where I'm coming from.
And there's also that moment that I've been wanting to write about since I started this blog, and I'll probably only start to describe it here. I'd love to quote some poetry but I've never heard anyone describe it before, and I don't know if anyone else even feels it. I felt it.. last night, two nights ago? I haven't named it yet, I don't know if I will, or can.
The first time I recognized it was in Quebec in 1993, I was visiting some friends in Granby on my second hitchhike across Canada. It was evening, we were sitting around a campfire, I was with a girl I had been in love with the year before, her boyfriend, and their friends. They were singing and playing guitars, I was the visitor. That may be a good temporary nickname for the feeling; "the visitor."
I was sitting, leaned back on a camp chair, in the half light and firelight. I looked at them all, and I saw the spectrum of my life; that I was here today, that I would be somewhere else tomorrow, and many many places in turn...  I don't know - the transitoriness of it all, the profundity, to care deeply for people, to love and enjoy a moment, and to also see it for what it is - something that will pass. I've felt it maybe a dozen times in my life - usually when I was travelling, but not always.
2009, August - again, sitting by a campfire, not sure if it was even burning. Ontario, Madoc to be specific. I was at the camper of my fiancee. Our relationship was crumbling, and rapidly. Honestly - I had thought we were 'soul mates,' and she the answer to all my dreams of another person. Sitting alone by the fire, in a camp chair (strangely enough) I was reflective, and there it came again - that feeling: that this was just a moment in time. I was happy and sad. Crushed to see the truth. Liberated by the truth.
All things are transitory.
Andre. Vancouver Island, probably August again, 1992. I had met two sisters on Long Beach, from Granby(Yes, one was the girl mentioned above), one I fell for, the other was a great friend, and we travelled together around Vancouver Island for about three weeks.
Somewhere around Sooke - we met a guy named Andre, he picked us up hitchhiking. He was Quebecois, a traveller. He had some amazing travel stories from all over the world, a scar on his face from a machete attack on some beach in Central America, a cool guy. As we sat and listened to his stories, and started to see a pattern, Jessica said, "it seems like you're always alone in your stories, do you always travel alone?" A shadow crossed his face, he paused, and said, "always alone, ... always alone."
What could we say to that? We said nothing, we left. I feared it. I feared to be like him, or others I met, brighter or darker, richer or poorer, who had taken the road of 'The Road' and lived great lives, but been alone, always separate.
September, 2010. Mt. Shasta, Northern California. I know I've mentioned this before, did I also mention that I used to make fun of Mt. Shasta, in my mind, because I had some 'pseudo-spiritual' friends that talked big about it? I am repentant. Of my now more than six months of travel - those two days were the tipping point, in so many ways.
Ultimately - "we are all just visitors here" - how do we want to make each moment be?

I was driving in my car, approaching what I have since come to consider a sacred place, and I felt acutely how I had been alone for days, driving up from LA, staying in little hotels, long days, listening to the music I wanted, loving life and what my eyes were drinking in - rolling green mountains, orchards, cities, coasts, human life and nature in synchronicity. I felt it, I felt myself as a visitor, the feeling was fleet, returned later and stayed with me into the next day; as I climbed and clambered on the mountain, cried and laughed, at the absolute beauty of the place, at the wonder of my being there, alone - to feel it and experience it in all its fullness.
In that moment in the car, approaching, I realized all at once - I was, A - happy to be alone, B - not alone. I had come home to 'Me.' I felt as 'unlonely' as I ever had in my life.
The feeling was sustained.
After I walked on her a bit I drove into town and rented a cheap motel and spent the whole next day up there. With 'Andre.' With me. With a Mountain. A mountain is a person. They are beings. I know that sounds crazy, but maybe you haven't spent enough time there. Maybe I haven't..
And yet, at the same time, that feeling came to me over and over again, in waves. Of being a 'visitor', of 'just passing through.' It was the point where I finally came to peace with it; I am who I am. My nature is to travel, I don't actually know what that means, for the shape of my life, but I love it, and me, and I don't feel afraid of Andre anymore. I feel, perhaps arrogantly, like I have gone beyond that point - that this sense of peace and happiness is not fleeting. The only fleeting aspect of it is if I turn my back on it, on my Self. Andre, Shasta, and everyone else - are welcome to hop into the bus and come along.
If it is my nature to be energized by travel, then certainly my life, the days, moments, people, that I experience, attract, have, the things I do and the passion I put into everything - will be better, because of that.
Of course, there will be moments coming up of fear and doubt, I will turn my eye back to shore at some points, at least for a moment. I may seek safety, I may go farther, I don't know.
But this energy, this power, is the most alive thing in me right now, so I will try to hold the course.

Burn, then, little lamp ; glimmer straight and clear -
Hush! a rustling wing stirs, methinks, the air :
He (She?)* for whom I wait, thus ever comes to me ;
Strange power ! I trust thy might ; trust thou my
       constancy.

The Heartwood Standard and the health food tour of the world...

I grew up in Halifax, Nova Scotia. I ate crap when I was young. By the time I was in my early twenties it was starting to show: poor health, no energy, generally unwell. Then, with the stress of getting married at 24 and my Mom dying shortly thereafter - I ended up pretty sick with stomach and intestinal problems - later diagnosed as candidiasis.
In that time I went through all kinds of crazy diets - gluten free, starch free, taste-free, sugar (even including fruit) free... Ug!
I later got better, through a 16-day Master Cleanser fast which cleaned my body out and basically pressed the reset button on my health. But I am lactose intolerant, sugar bugs me, so I avoid it if possible, white flour is nutritionless glue (a separate rant) and I even eat gluten free when possible just for variety and to give my body a break. In the name of being healthy so I can do my work and enjoy it, and life (a lot), I'm a bit of a health and health-food nut. No pun intended.
Back then, mid 90's, was when I discovered Heartwood Bakery, on Quinpool Road - it was, and still is, fantastic. Halifax is not a big city, 3-400,000 people. I always assumed bigger, hipper cities had even better health food options. Wrong-o!
Heartwood Bakery and Cafe offers gluten free, sugar free, dairy free, food and treats. They used to offer food buffet style, which I preffered, but now you have to order the meal you want - it's still pretty great. But the thing I really love is the treats! They have bars, pies, about five kinds of cookies, what my ex and I used to call "buckwheat screamers" - buckwheat-ginger cookies, and they're all friggin' fabulous!!
Now, to a normal sweet eater, someone who consumes XX pounds per year of western cultures favorite sedative - sugar (no offense) these treats are not mind-blowing, some are quite good, some are not so exciting.
But for someone who has sworn it off, whether for health or policy reasons, they are mind-blowing! You can taste more after you give up sugar, you can taste the actual natural sweetness of things, which is a much more diverse and pleasing spectrum of flavours than everything being "sugar-flavoured."
So, I used to wander into Heartwood fairly regularly when I lived here, pick up a day old loaf of sourdough bread, and a treat or two, maybe a buckwheat screamer and an oatcake for the road... but I always assumed, like a said, that bigger and hipper cities had better, or at least similar options.
I've been on a health-food tour for quite a few years now - everywhere I go I immediately scope out the health food store, restaurant, cafe - in town. Some you can find online, others you have to find one (usually the health food store is easiest to initially locate) and ask them where the others are, or just ask your hippie friends.
Brighton, in southern England, has some fantastic health food stores and super fresh organic produce in the summer - lots of options. Geneva has a good health food store too. LA has lots of them, although mostly pretty corporate. Paris - don't even bother, it's hell for the lactose intolerant (I love it for other reasons though). Eureka, Oregon has an awesome co-op right on the 101 as you blow through town, and Santa Cruz has a place called the Staff of Life. It has some nice baked goodies, but is no Heartwood.
The closest I've found is Gorilla Food in Vancouver, on Richards, they have all raw sweets and meals, which are fabulous, but since it's raw it's a different bag. In some ways it's better, in some ways not as good, it doesn't have the range and diversity of Heartwood, which is fair, because raw is more limiting. It is better in the way that - it is raw, which rocks.
Interestingly - in both cases - the cafe is driven by an owner (Laura - Heartwood, Aaron - Gorilla) with vision and perseverance, who stick to their guns and refuse to compromise on ingredients or quality.
Still, over the years of travelling and always seeking out the local healthfood options - I have developed what I call "The Heartwood Standard' - the bar I hold all other places to:
- Are there sweet options that have no dairy, gluten, or sugar?
- I mean - none of those! Many places offer something with no gluten - it almost always has milk, or sugar, or both. Likewise, if it's lactose free - they pound the sugar to it. Why? I don't get it.
- If there are such options, how many? one, two?
- Are they fresh?
- Are they good?
- Are they mind-blowingly good?
- If I come back tomorrow can I get something different?
- Are there sweet and meals?
- Would I take a date there?
- Is it clean?
- Is it fresh?
- How do I feel after I eat?
These are some of the questions that I started to develop to compare health food cafes/restaurants/stores(that offer prepared food) to Heartwood. Like a checklist. Like I said, Gorilla Food does great on the Heartwood Standard, I wouldn't want to have to say whom I prefer - Heartwood 'n I go way back. But it's the only real contender so far.
I know there are tons of places out there I haven't visited, tased, and held to the Heartwood Standard. Any suggestions of places to try in your town, or that you have found in your travels - please let me know! The health food tour of the world goes on...