Browsing Tag

magic

Labyrinth

A Wild (not so) New Path

February 2, 2016

“How the hell did you get where you are? By making your way, as best you could, through a maze of social pressures that were often destructive to your true nature. What the hell should you do now? Find a new way. A better way. Your way. The unknown, uncharted path through this wild new world that allows you – yourself, in your uniqueness – to reclaim the full measure of your true nature.” – Martha Beck

 

Until this morning, I had lost the path. Trying to create the life of my dreams while also creating a life worthy of other people’s attention has been sending me off in wrong direction after wrong direction. As my savings dwindled, I wondered how to make this life of mine pay.

Wait. Stop. Make my life PAY? Like it’s some sort of movie villain?

Who thought that one up?

No wonder I am so far off course.

Stop. Course correction. Return to the last warm track.

Magic. Miracles. Mystery. Stories. Connection. Creativity. Wonder. Divinity. Delight. Trees. 

Follow those tracks – where do they lead?

They lead to the little girl whose whole world was trees and nature and family and community and total, unapologetic, unabashed creativity. Her world was full of stories and songs and rocks and wonderful people and trees and costumes and crafts and magical moments. She was also fierce and stubborn and rebellious and very loved.

My true nature is the little imp in the photographs who smiled and played and adored and was always connected to a person, place or thing she loved.

My true nature is magical connection.

I don’t need to worry about anything as long as I remember that  – and surrender to the Magic.

Now I can focus on how I can play with my life instead of how it has to pay.

That feels an awful lot like freedom.

And just like that, I’m back on the path.

xo
Jamie and Meghan

 

 

 


 

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Finding the Magic

Happy 10th Anniversary to… me

January 24, 2016

Ten years from now, make sure you can say that you CHOSE your life, you didn’t SETTLE for it. – Mandy Hale

Ten years ago today I sat down at my computer and wrote my very first blog post. Back in the dark ages of blogging, there was so much connection and blog reading that I managed to get eleven comments on my very first post. Now I am lucky if I get one. All you had to do was go visit someone, make a thoughtful comment, and they would visit you back. That is why I started: connection. I wanted a place to write, but mostly I wanted to reach out from my world in an isolated fishing village and find my people. In the words of 2006 blog-speak, I wanted to resonate with my tribe (chuckle).

Back then writing on our blogs wasn’t about making money or teaching anyone anything or even saying anything profound. In fact, the more open and honest and vulnerable your post, the more people would respond. I hate to sound like an old-timer, but I think things were a bit better then. Back in my day we weren’t yet comparing ourselves to each other’s perceived enlightenment. I didn’t feel like I lacked anything – in fact, every time I entered this world I felt like I gained something – a friend, a connection, a moment of being seen or heard or understood.

Ten years ago I lived in a tiny fishing village on the Atlantic Coast of England (well, technically on the English Channel). Ten years later I live on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica. In the years in between I have: gotten engaged in Rome, gotten married, written and published a novel, let another novel go, gained and lost weight, gathered with blog friends in Seattle and the Cotswolds, ran a half marathon, worked full time, painted in Italy, circled with women near Glastonbury, fallen desperately in love with my two nieces, been diagnosed with celiac disease, eaten gelato in Italy, tasted nutmeg in Grenada and fallen in love with St. Vincent, danced under many moons, helped grieve my father-in-law, camped and cottaged and often Christmased in Canada, spent countless hours in airports and airplanes, seen psychics and shamans, lived through my 30s, began living with my mother-in-law, and moved to a new country.

And what have I learned? That comparing myself to other people’s sunlit, filtered, styled, prettified online personas is a one-way ticket to crazytown. That if I had followed other people’s rules and truly wanted what other people had, I would have lived a much smaller life. That the people I was searching for and the connections I wanted are – ironically – harder to find now in this noisy online world of selling ourselves as our porduct, but that when you live and write and create from your heart, you can find each other.

I have also learned that when I stay in the moment and let my heart lead, magic happens.

So as I embark on the next ten years of me and my blog, I intend only this: to be connected to my heart and the present moment as often and as long and as much as I can, and to live in that magic – always.

So for you, dear reader, thank you for being here.

And to my little blog ~ Happy Anniversary! And thank you for everything.

I love you.

xo

 

 

 

 

Cahoots

You do not have to be good.

January 4, 2016

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” – Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

 

You do not have to be good.

I don’t know how many times I have held that line – written by the wondrous Mary Oliver – in my heart.

I’ve started or ended retreats with it. I have whispered it to myself as a mantra during periods of self flagellation. I have whispered it to the breeze, to the wind, and to storms. In the past few months and weeks, it has become a constant companion; a touch stone to remind me of who I really am.

You do not have to be good.

For lack of a better word, the past 15 months have been amazing. I quit my job and we bought tickets. We’ve shed or stored almost everything we own, we’ve moved countries, moved house three times, learned to deal with all kinds of creatures, and very recently bought a piece of land in the jungle.

But you know, as I sit here in the jungle looking out over the Pacific Ocean, I can tell you that the myth of all of the things you’ll do when you magically have more time is complete and utter bullshit.

No matter how much you shed, you always pack yourself. Always.

I have been been so hard on myself since I got here, thinking about all of the ways I am still not good enough.

Good. I just noticed that it’s a four letter word.

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.”

Repenting. Yep, I am totally good at that one. 41 years of trying to be good and feeling guilty when I’m not. I’m exhausted.

So I am taking a radical step and not trying to be good in 2016. I’m not choosing any positive, healthy, self-help theme or resolutions. Not. One.

One thing I know for sure is that I firmly believe in magic and in my connection every single moment to the divine (whether I am good or not). The times I have tried to be good, things have turned out okay. The times I have actively played with the magic and honoured who I was? Magic happened. Together we have accomplished more that I could ever have dreamed up on my own. I don’t want more good. I want more amazing.

So my theme for 2016 is going to be Cahoots.

It’s Cahoots because I am moving on through Ms. Oliver’s poem: “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”

I’m choosing Cahoots because it feels just a little bit badly behaved. I’m choosing Cahoots because I’m inviting God, the angels, guides, the howler monkeys, the universe and anyone who would like to to play with me. I’m choosing Cahoots because my glorious friend said it sounded like shenanigans.

Cahoots is curiosity and wonder and what if and dirty paws and sunburned noses and ripe papaya and delicious trickster energy. Cahoots liberates me from the shackles of trying to be good, because Cahoots invites in play and the fun and collaboration with delightful souls.

All of the self help books I’ve read said you have to feel good. They don’t say you have to be good. Cahoots is my theme because it makes me feel good.

Cahoots, my friends, is the magic I believe in.

xo