I’ve wanted to write another blog post for a long time. Each time I sat down to write, I would think that there was too much to say, not know how to say it, then get overwhelmed, and then give up.
This blog is a space for me to write my truth as I see it in the moment, and sometimes that truth is hard to see through the fog. But sometimes that fog lifts, and things are far more clear and simple, yet mysterious and wild, than my mind could have ever imagined. The fog is lifting now, daunting possibilities are showing themselves to me. Something is within reach that I’ve never been or seen, but have always known deep down. Do you know what I mean?
Are you willing to say yes to your visions, dreams, and goals? I have many doubts about my dreams and goals for the coming months. I may make a huge mistake and fail entirely, or I could end up embarrassed, hopeless and alone. I may not know how to handle what comes my way. Never the less, I am willing to say yes them all, even the most powerful and daring of visions. I started In the Verge a year and a half ago to share my learnings and insights at the beginning of an adventure that is now into its adolescence. So much has happened since I wrote my first blog post here, “Embarking On the Journey.” Today I took time to reflect on the past year, and am harvesting what I’ve learned and experienced for the adventures to come. I am also including below many photos from the last year of my life.
“Come to the edge.”
“We can’t. We’re afraid.”
“Come to the edge.”
“We can’t. We will fall!”
“Come to the edge.”
And they came.
And he pushed them.
And they flew.
In The Verge means being in the in-between space, the space of becoming, where the unknown flirts with knowing, where vision is dropping reality, where safety and adventure play. My life In The Verge is a life of movement change. Constant change. This blog is a platform for me to practice writing which is instinctual, spirited, raw, personal, vulnerable and messy. This is a refreshing antidote to the years of formal analytical writing I’ve become practiced at throughout high school and college. I only write here when it is pleasurable to do so. If its not, I don’t do it. I don’t force it to come. It has been a long time coming, and here it is!
12 months ago I was in Boston, about to embark on a cross-country road trip into uncertain and unknown territory. What stands out most from the past 12 months are the magical and unpredictable synchronicities: events which happen at just the right moment to allow for my hearts longing to deepen and for my experience to expand and open. Meeting a specific person who has a connection I’ve been thinking about for weeks. Hearing about an event 4 times in 2 days, and showing up, changing the direction of my life. Giving up on finding a place to live, or a way to earn money for the month, and then having it all fall into place once I relaxed a little.
What I remember most are the small moment: camping one night by a river, a meal I had with a friend, the endless prairies in Winnipeg, a sweetness and nostalgic feeling of the simple enjoyments. It is not so much the grandeur or immensity of an event which makes it memorable, but the pure quality of being I experienced, which produces a feeling I can still remember.
The past year has allowed me to practice opening my perception, sensory awareness, and instinctual knowing more and more. As I attune deeply to my own heart, things happen I could not predict or plan. One example is arriving to Nelson, B.C. after we crossed the Rocky Mountains. The night I arrived I was invited by a friend I met the to the International Indigenous Leadership Gathering in Lillooet, which was to begin in two days. This is a large annual campout on chief Darrell Bob’s land, which brings together indigenous activists and leaders from around the world. There are speakers and talks, ceremony, lots of spontaneous connection, participatory creation of meals, and networking and skill sharing. The event is free and runs smoothly due to the hard work of many volunteers and friends coming together. I decided to go, without knowing anything about it, and had a transformative experience, my mind blown and my world altered.
Excitement. Anticipation. Joy. Fear. Confusion. Doubt. These have been close friends on this journey. The pleasure I found in the past year has been just letting these be close friends and nothing more. When there is fear, to see it as a messenger to slow down and re-ground, to remember what is important to me and who I really am. When there is doubt, to take action nevertheless, and to know that whatever happens, the result will not be final or finished. When there is joy and excitement, to savor and enjoy without clinging and grasping, knowing full well that they will pass.
Looking back at these past 12 months, I see tremendous courage as well as naivety, and lot of movement. 4 countries, 13 states, 6 provinces, and countless cities, and many beds, camping spots, and couches which I’ve rested my little head on.
I see a dance of moving together and coming apart, moments of immense community and connection, and moments of painful aloneness, wondering who I am and what I am doing. One memory is of Bioneers 2014, where I am surrounded by thousands of connected and empowered friends taking bold action, and other moments in the weeks after when I wondered where everyone had gone. These waves and patterns of increasing and decreasing activity and stimulation are just rhythms that demand to be danced. They each are needed and support each other.
The times when I’ve been alone, unsure, and scared have been the most transformative. Its when my heart cried out and the most profound learnings unfold about who I really am. This past year has been strengthening and inspiring, since I gave myself space to be alone.
I left school with many burning questions, Questions like, how does change really happen? Who am I really, when all else is stripped away, when I stop trying and pretending? What is my life for? If I find out, how will I know? While I don’t have many answers,I do have have greater clarity, perspective and experience to face these questions head-on, more capacity to bear their weight and depth. I still wonder what is my life for? And I am willing to find out, day by day.
As spring turns to summer, I feel a quickening and a heating up inside. I know a little more this year than I did last year, and I have so much to learn. I can only hope to be grounded and present during the ups and the downs, and to dance the rhythms and waves as fully as I can in every moment. I’ll be returning to Canada in May for a Permaculture Design Certification course with Starhawk and Charles Williams, and then am spending the summer living and working in the Bay Area. I am right now looking a different job possibilities, with the intention to find an opportunity to be paid to do what I absolutely love. I envision working with youth, being outside, and contributing to my community here in a multitude of ways, and contributing to the greater movements of social and ecological justice and transformation that we need so much. My prayer tonight is to find nourishment intellectually, physically, emotionally and spiritually this summer and to find a home and a means of livelihood that feels good to me with clarity, focus, ease and, of course, grace: an unearned blessing!
Sunset at Crater Lake