every exit is an entry

I saw the above street art last week while walking a new route to work. ‘Every exit is an entry somewhere else’ – yes! I immediately took a photo, loving the random surprises that can happen when I vary my daily routine even just slightly.

In my last week at my previous job, we held a three-day conference for health care professionals. For this event, we brought in vendors to sell some beautiful products. I purchased a pair of unique earrings – one of which unfortunately broke the next morning.

I wasn’t looking forward to asking for my money back, or for a repair (I couldn’t find the missing piece), even though I knew this was the perfectly reasonable thing to do. I was readying myself to approach the vendor, when the thought crossed my mind: Why don’t you make something with this?

The week before, I’d visited a crafts store and purchased a lotus-motif charm. I’d recently been spending more time in such shops, looking at all the different products, soaking up the creative potential in the air. I took apart the earring that night and reworked it to make a pendant. I liked it much better than the earrings I’d originally purchased.

The floodgates opened.

I am now obsessed with making jewelry. Reading about it, watching YouTube tutorials, dismantling necklaces I no longer wear and re-stringing them into bracelets, visiting thrift stores to repurpose items, even unearthing the beads I bought way back in my teenage years.

It’s illuminating to resume a hobby I was passionate about when I was younger. As a teenager, my biggest loves included writing, beading, and being part of a drama (theatre) group. When I look back now, it seems that these activities stopped abruptly, though I can’t pinpoint where.

I’ve been connecting with my teenage self a lot lately; that potent time where I began to discover what I was naturally drawn to. That precious window where I explored my hobbies with excitement and no filters. There didn’t have to be an end product or a known purpose; I was just having fun.

Every exit in an entry somewhere else. I’ve learned a lot in the work I’ve done over the years, and have met so many kind and lovely people…but I don’t think I will ever return to a full-time office job. Being immersed in a truly engaging, creative pastime these past few weeks – staying up late, forgetting to eat, being consumed with making – has made me realize how long it’s been since I’ve felt so much like ‘me’. I want more of it.

Here’s to budding creations, on this new moon and in this new season.

autumnal reset

In my last post I wrote about ceremoniously burning all my journals, clearing out my stories to allow space for the new. I was about to go camping on Vancouver Island, and could think of no better place to send my diaries than into the flames of a campfire, out in nature and under the stars.

Alas, Mother Nature had other plans. Due to record-breaking wildfires in British Columbia, campfires were strictly banned all summer. The journal burning would have to wait.

My time away was soul nourishing. We spent three days camping near a small logging town on the northeast coast of the Island. I hadn’t been camping in years, and was a little anxious to be out of my comfort zone. This feeling didn’t lessen when we noticed fresh bear poop on our site. Fortunately I didn’t have any close encounters, though we did spot a young black bear twice, ambling down the beach in front of us.

Despite the bear presence, it didn’t take long for me to relax and appreciate the natural beauty surrounding me. The weather cooperated and the other campers made for chill, respectful neighbours. We also saw humpback whales and porpoises, which was amazing.The absence of technology was particularly soothing to my city-jangled brainwaves, allowing my mind to breathe.

After camping, it was off to beautiful Tofino, for the wedding of a close friend. It was a sweet few days, filled with lovely people, food, music, beer (oh so much beer), and laughter. It’s hard to formulate words for the entire experience; they can’t fully capture the magic of the moments. Neither could pictures, which is why I took so few.

The journey felt like a major reset, probably amplified by the solar eclipse that preceded it. But I don’t feel rested and rejuvenated; on the contrary, since my return I’ve been extremely fatigued and lacking motivation. Even when it comes to blogging. I’ve started and stopped this post so many times and it’s been frustrating. But maybe that’s part of the reset. It feels different from resistance or procrastination. There’s no point in forcing something that’s just not happening, even if it’s something we normally enjoy.

our camping spot

And now we’re emerging from the new moon into the Autumn equinox, another potent time to focus on what’s essential. Though city culture can be wonderfully stimulating, my time away – short as it was – made me realize I’m longing for more balance. Simplification. Less dependence on conveniences, and more self-sufficiency. How would I really like to live, and what practical steps can I take to make that happen? What does living harmoniously with nature – feeling connected, having a relationship – mean for me personally, and is my life reflecting that?

Perhaps the idea of burning my journals was part of the drive to simplify. But since writing my post, I appreciate more fully the importance of honouring that journey before I let it go. This means taking the diaries out of the box. Putting them in order, lining them up, setting aside the uninterrupted time to read them.

I want to sit with all those uncomfortable emotions, giving them the attention they deserve. I can then release them with peace. And who knows, I might find unremembered moments of joy in those words. Maybe the biggest gem I will discover is the compassion for the person who wrote them.

This Autumnal reset feels like incubation and integration. The plug is being pulled on so many things, and we are waiting patiently as life organizes itself to respond to a new frequency…trusting, as best we can, that life is lovingly responding in these very uncertain times where no one knows what’s going to happen next.

As the days get shorter and cooler, and the leaves turn colour, I’m grateful to be where am, laying low and letting nature do her thing.

when the student is ready…

Last weekend marked another session of my Kundalini Yoga teacher training program. When I started the training last October, spring seemed so far away. And here I am, planning my practicum, which means teaching a ‘real’ class at a studio next month!

One of our first discussions last Fall surrounded the shift from the Piscean Age to the Age of Aquarius. One of the principles of this transition is the emphasis on the Inner Teacher. The era of looking to an external source of religious/spiritual authority is ending. We are learning to access our own inner knowing and become sovereign beings. We self-initiate.

art face

the inner teacher awakens

Many of us who grew up within organized religion – even if our parents weren’t extreme – were programmed to follow rotes and rules, obey authority, and please God. The concept of Judgment Day plagued me from a young age; I learned to police my every thought and action early on in life, because I knew somehow, somewhere God was keeping a tally.

You’re playing with fire, I’d tell myself, when I thought about following my own inner voice. I didn’t even know what that inner voice was, but I sensed it didn’t involve a punishing male authority figure who demanded that I pray a certain way at a certain place, while others prayed in their own designated places. Deviating from my religion filled me with ambivalence, fear, and guilt. Who am I to mess with God’s plan? I must have been born into this religion for a reason. I’m hurting my family with my defiance. When will I stop being so stubborn?

Last weekend’s training required that I practice teach in front of the group. In perfect universal order, I was assigned to lead the very meditation I’d choked on a couple months ago – only this time in front of more bodies! I had to laugh (sorta) at the universe’s humour. It is keeping a tally, but in the most loving way.

This entire training has required me to be continually out of my comfort zone…resisting the process, surrendering to the process, and coming out stronger and more confident.

I’m learning to accept my own inner knowing, and my capacity and readiness to share these sacred teachings. I think we all carry much more information than we know. What if a treasure trove rests in our DNA, the knowledge of lifetimes past and lessons learned? What if we’re here not to be punished for previous ‘bad behaviour’ but, with our own self-mastery and innate tools, awaken realms of information we already posses within?

Are we ready for the magnitude of this? It sounds pretty cool, but it means dying to an old way – and this can be terrifying, despite our greatest desires to be free from our limitations.

Honouring the Inner Teacher doesn’t mean we don’t learn from each other, or honour the teachers around us. For they often awaken and inform our own knowing. We don’t write off those whose style or teachings differ from our own. The Inner Teacher is not about arrogance (though it can slide into ego if unchecked), and it doesn’t mean rejecting religion, if religion brings us joy and comfort.

It does mean we honour all knowledge as different frequencies of the same oneness. (Truth be told: I find the word ‘oneness’ somewhat problematic. It’s used so often in spiritual circles that for me it’s meaning has become diluted.) Honouring the Inner Teacher is about valuing our piece of this big cosmic fractal, and knowing we have something to contribute.

Our existence is not an accident, and we’re not here to merely exist. We did not arrive on this planet to follow along and be sheep and obey authority. (Unless that’s what you really, really want to do.) As an astrologer told me many moons ago: You signed the contract. We came here to change life as we know it, at a time where we – the human race – could make our break ourselves.

No one said a dramatic shift in consciousness would be easy. What is your Inner Teacher telling you?