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Our first day on R'Dream, and it’s amazing. My office is the upper deck of the boat, a gentle breeze keeping me cool under the canopy . The sights and sounds and smells of the water enveloping me as I write today. What a glorious experience, what a gift to all the senses.
We arrived in Crofton yesterday just after lunch, after spending the night in a campground near Chilliwack. The campground was nice enough, and quiet, but we still feel that Valemount was the top of the ladder for campgrounds so far. We’re meeting some amazing people on our journey, seeing incredible sites and loving it all. We were fortunate in Crofton to get bumped up to a full service site, with a nice view of the bay. Another lucky gift from the universe as we make our way along this journey. There have been so many gifts and blessings, on this journey and all my previous ones. How fortunate I am. Every single time I spend time near this water, I ask myself why I am not out here permanently, spending all of my days in her glory. But then I head for home and ask myself how I could ever leave. Life is so full of contradictions. Contradictions, complications and confusion, but it’s still glorious I can see this exact spot being my new office for the next stages of the writing that I need to get going at. There’s so much beauty, and so little distracting my mind here. My attention is a little different visually, as my eyes keep getting drawn to a small seal, who seems to be as interested in figuring out what I’m doing as I am in him. Still, the glory of having learned typing skills in high school is that I can watch him, while my fingers do their work on the keyboard on my knee. Life is very, very good. So for today, we’re just focused on figuring out some of the details of this new home away from home. The GPS/Depth-finder is being installed as I write, and by tomorrow we should be able to go out on our first big adventure of this new part of our life. It’s going to be amazing, I can just tell, because after all, isn’t it what you decide it is going to be?
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It was amazing to watch them, dozens of dark red salmon, fighting against the current of the creek, using the last of their energy to secure the next generation to be spawned. I remember vague glimpses of having seen something similar as a child, years ago on Vancouver Island, as my Mother and I witnessed the same magnificent end to the journey of a different generation of the Chinook salmon. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
It was by sheer luck that we’d landed a campsite beside Swift Creek, not realizing it was the time of year that the salmon would be spawning. The campgrounds were posted with notices asking that people keep their distance from the edge of the creek so as not to startle or scare off the creatures that were already so exhausted from their 1,300 kilometre journey from the Pacific to this place of their birth. As we stood watching the speed and agility of the exhausted beings, moving the stones and positioning themselves to either lay or fertilize the eggs that would ensure the continuation of their species, I couldn’t help but be captivated by the wonder of nature. Of these fish that had lived their lives, and made their way back to their origins, do leave their own legacy of the future before the exhaustion took the last of their lives. We watched for ages, then it was time to move on. As we continued our own journey west, I couldn’t help but peer deeply into every creek and river we passed along the way, wondering if we’d get another glimpse of the pilgrimage that we’d witnessed. We reached the coast without seeing it again. I couldn’t help but think about those fish, and wonder about our own journey. As we make our way to Vancouver Island, the place of my own birth, I realize even though it’s been close to fifty years since I can say that I lived here, I’ve always felt at home on this island. I’ve always felt that I was somehow coming home, each time we make the journey to the west. It’s left me wondering if we humans also have that homing instinct that so many other species that share this earth with us have built into their DNA. I still wonder, and in doing so am only left with more questions and few answers. We all have those places that call to our spirit. The call is different for each and every one of us, but we all hear our own. Whether or not we choose to answer the call or not it also unique to each person, and the reason’s vary. Some go unanswered out of fear, in the not knowing where the call may lead us should we decide to follow it. Some go unanswered because in the busyness of everyday life, it was unheard. The person that it was directed to was so wrapped up in the day to day challenges, that they didn’t here that call from across time and space that was directed at their own spirit asking for consideration. Some go unanswered, because although the call is heard, the receiver refuses to listen, caught tight in the world that they’ve created for themselves, unbudging in the belief that there is a different world waiting for them out there somewhere. It seems that I’ve chosen to listen and follow the voice for a time. It’s leading me back to my beginning. To the saltwater: the sights, sounds and smells of a time that is such a vague and distant memory, that from time to time I question if it’s a memory or a dream. Either way, I’m going to explore it and see where it leads me. The adventure of life continues, with all of us on our own unique journey. I look forward to seeing what we find over the next weeks of exploration. Where is your journey taking you these days? We woke up at the Yellowed Campground in Valmont BC this morning. It’s our fourth day on the road, and we’re both enjoying the pace that travelling with our camper is allowing us. I never really thought I liked this mode of travel before, but I guess the truth is I never really tried it either. Glad to find out that I was wrong, because I am loving this so far.
The mountain air this morning was totally intoxicating. There is a crisp freshness that is unlike anything at home that I’ve experienced. Don’t know if it’s the altitude, or the forests that surrounded us, but it was amazing and grounding at the same time. Our days on the road have been a series of reminders that we’re so lucky to be doing this now, at this time of our live. We’ve been taking our time, making the effort to connect with some family and friends that we don’t see often as we journey along the way. They have been wonderful to spend time with but also a wonderful reminder of how important it is to do these things while we have the health to do it. That could change in a moment. We know that, we’ve experienced it first hand on more than one occasion and we’ve learned that second chances don’t always come along, so it’s important to make the best of the opportunities that we do have. I was reminded even more about this the day before yesterday. I’d sseen a Facebook post that one of my Facebook ‘friends’ had passed away. I have to admit, I don’t know that I ever met her in person. She was a friend of friends, but she really seemed to enjoy and support my posts. Always liking or commenting, and obviously connecting with what I was putting out into the world, we did connect virtually. When I saw on a friends post that she had passed, I decided that I would check Portage online to learn a little bit more about her. I was stopped in my tracks when I read the funeral announcements of three people that I knew…all under fifty eight, two from cancer. People I had not even heard had been ill, and people that I’d not have imagined fighting cancer. I couldn’t believe it , I still don’t. The message for me was to keep doing what we are doing. Living life the way we choose to as we are able to, most importantly, while we are able to. It will change quick enough, because time just seems to be moving faster. But today, this moment is ours, so we’re going to embrace it and enjoy it as fully as we can. On our travels I am reading a book called “You’ve got a book in you” by Elizabeth Sims. I’m enjoying her writing immensely and am getting a lot of great information for my continuing dream of writing. I was struck yesterday by a question about when do you give up your safe life to pursue the life you dream of. Her question was, do you want your headstone to read that ‘She was a Good Vice President’… or do you want it to read 'She went for it!’ I want mine to read the last option, that I went for it, lived life fully, and died empty with my dreams pursued whether they were fulfilled or not. They have been taken out of the hope-chest in my heart, dusted off and given wings to at least try to take flight. That is an amazing feeling! What about you? What do you want to see written in stone when it’s all over? Are there steps you can be taking now, regardless of your circumstance that will move you closer to what you’re dreaming of? If there are…you should take them. We’re on the road!! On the adventure that we’ve always talked about, put off, talked about again, and now finally making happen. Fredoom 55…it’s been my mantra over the last year, as the numbers loomed ever closer. It’s happening now. Last year when Cecil had his cancer scare, we made a plan that this would be the year we’d pursue the dream of boating on the west coast for a period of time. He’s hoping that will include catching some salmon and crab to satisfy his passion for seafood. I’m more hoping that it’ll include peace, photography, time to write, maybe a visit from a pod of orca’s, some eagles…you get the picture. We’d begun working on this plan by fixing up the old Chris Craft Scorpion that we own (please see previous posts for pictures). She is just beautiful now, ‘Celyn Away’ …very intentionally named for what we hoped to do in her. However, it was difficult to get answers form people as to whether the inboard engine would handle the salt-water. No one seemed to be able to say for sure one way or the other, and the concern on our part continued. In May, while having another discussion about this continued, on the Thursday night before the long weekend, I decided to look on Kijiji Nanaimo to see if there was a more suitable boat. Of course we knew there would be more suitable boat. What we were concerned about was a suitable price. Part way down the page we saw an ad from a guy looking for partners to invest in the exact boat Cecil had talked about, that was part of an estate sale and at a very good price. Deciding that we were going to make this happen one way r another, we emailed him to see if he was still looking for partners. He was. Was the boat still available? Not sure, he’d check. It was. Could we be there to look at it? We could. So the next morning we were off in the car to look at a boat on the other side of the country. Don’t think for one minute that we’re not aware of how fortunate we are that we were able to do what we did. But being ‘lucky’ has taken a lot of determined work through the years. Work to ensure that we were in a financial position to grab the opportunities when they came along. Work to set all of my employment up to be portable, so that I could do whatever it was I needed to do from wherever I was, through embracing the new technology and all that this electronic world we live in has to offer. Work in making sure that home was taken care of and what was most important secure when we wouldn’t be there. I might even add work in getting to the point where we can give ourselves permission not to feel guilty about the freedom that we don have, after all the years of supporting the needs of all of those that depended on us for so long. It was the most rewarding thing in the world to know that all those pieces that we’d worked to put in place over the years were allowing us to jump at opportunities that presented themselves! Freedom 55! On the coast we met the future partner, investigated to boat and realized all the signs that this was what we were meant to be doing were in place. Name of the boat…RDream. Sign number one. Name of the marina? Ladysmith, same as our farm. Sign number two. The key hook inside the door? Three dolphins, sign number three. Even down to the man who had owned it, a 91 year old WW2 vet named Jim who’d lived his last years in a wheelchair, but didn’t let go of his passion for boats. We bought in, how could we not! So now we’re making our way back across the country to spend time on RDream for the first time. Guess we’ll know soon if it’s truly RDream or not…but we are so blessed that we get to explore this and find out one way or the other. Never underestimate the power of setting your intentions for how you want to see your life unfold. Its the formula of the Passion Test. Intention, Attention, no tension. Clarify what it is you do want to do and how you want your life to look. Do what you can from where you are to work towards that vision. Then trust that the Universe is working for you, not against you, and that the pieces will fall into place as they need to to see your vision come alive. Its a team effort for sure, but if you are clear on what you want to achieve, you’ll be amazed by what you’re capable of achieving. So stay with us, we’ll try to keep you updated as we go along, planning for the best but knowing it’ll be what it’ll be, and that’s what will be best for us. Now, until next time, start thinking about how you want your life to work, and begin to gain clarity on what it is you’re passionate about. And if you need help with that, just let me know! That’s what I’m here for! 
As a certified Passion Test facilitator, of course I continue to tell people the joy that following their passions will bring into their lives. I believe that with my whole heart, and do all I can to keep following my own passions, in any ways that I can. Sometimes they are tiny, baby steps that are taken towards getting that little bit closer to what I'm passionate about. Other times they are leaps that throw me into the center of the joy that is my passion. What I've loved watching over the past several weeks is seeing my husband immersed in the joy of his passion. Previous posts have introduced you to the little cabin on the hill. It is truly his little piece of heaven, as it slowly comes together into what he has imagined it would be from the beginning. 
Over the past couple of weeks, he's spent countless hours up there. The deck is built, the woodstove and Cheney are in place, and this week the door and the window went in. So far the entire project has cost about $800, most of that being on the deck, and I will admit, it's a nicer deck than I have off the front door at home. But the joy he is getting from the time, view and peace that he is finding on this project. Priceless. My cocoon of joy and contentment is right here at home. I can spend days on end in the comfort of this home I've created and never feel the need to venture further, but I finally put on my boots the other day to go and see what it is he's accomplished. I know that in the sharing of it is more pleasure than he will ever admit to. I ended up arriving at the cabin just about sunset, which is way too early these days, but it helps knowing that in a few short weeks our days will start to lengthen again. 
It had been an unseasonably warm day when I walked up there. He'd rushed home from helping a neighbor to try and make the best of the warm day by washing the old, recycled windows and doors he'd installed. The plan wasn't to spend a lot of time up there, so there was no fire going in the woodstove when I arrived. That didn't matter, the sun through the windows had it nicely warmed up anyhow. As much as I tease him about this project, I am so glad that he's given himself permission to pursue it. To see the joy and happiness that he derives from being at this place is so great, knowing that he is living out one of his dreams. Something I think he's been afraid to give himself permission to do for much of his life. So tonight, as the evening draws near, we will be Celyn away together. Not to any exotic, warm destination, nor on any of the big adventures that we tell ourselves we'll take one of these fine days. Instead we're going to watch the sun set over the valley that we love so dearly. We'll be sitting on those worn out kitchen chairs that furnish the space at this point, around the crackling fire that he's undoubtedly had going since he headed up there himself earlier today. We will toast the day that we've had the pleasure of experiencing, and grateful for it, ask that we be given one more tomorrow. It's taken a lot of living to realize that these little moments really are the big ones. My hope for you is that you'll take a little time to think about what it is that you too are passionate about, and give yourself permission to pursue it in any way you can. Moving towards the things we love and dream about doesn't mean walking away from the lives we have now. It means finding ways in the everyday to ensure that your passion and joy is honored, celebrated and acknowledged in whatever way you can, trusting that when the time is right you'll be able to do it in the way you imagine is perfect for you. Just enjoy the journey. And if you think it would help to find a quiet, rustic little building to sit by a fire in and watch the sun set with a glass of wine...you know where to find us. Come join us at any time!  As I shared a couple of days ago, the husband is in his glory. He has started work on his cabin on the hill. As you can see by the picture, it would better be described as a grainry, rather than a cabin, because well...that's what it is. But he sees it's potential, and it enjoying it to no end.  He has talked for years about building a retreat for himself up there. We've watched papers, and auctions, and online selling sites for buildings that might be appropriate and could be purchased for a reasonable price. Anything we found either was more money that we're willing to spend, or the good deals were missed by minutes. He's been patient, this isn't a new dream, but it's a dream This summer when the diagnosis came our lives were sidetracked, he made himself a promise that when he felt better he'd go ahead and act on it. He's said for years that that little building would work, or he'd make it work and decided that he wouldn't put it off any longer. So here we are, at some of the coldest days so far this year (a balmy -32 this morning) and where is he? He's up on the hill in his man cave. Fitting chimney pipe together, tacking plastic on the walls to keep it warm, dragging an old wood stove up there, so when all of this is done, he'll hopefully have heat. He is literally freezing his butt of...but is having so much fun and his so happy. Following through on a dream will do that. So as we've been frightened into taking a good look at the dreams we hold and realizing we need to take action, I hope that you too can do the same in your life. It shouldn't take a cancer diagnosis or a life threatening injury to move us into action, but so often that is what we need. Otherwise we don't give ourselves permission to take those steps. So I ask you now then, is there a dream you keep holding at arms length thinking there is still so much time to pursue it? And is there really? Enjoy the day! We had our follow up appointment a couple of weeks ago and for now the news is good. The CT scan didn't show any more signs of cancer, at this point. The blood work came back good, at this point. And we've been given the go ahead to breath again...at this point.  So now the husband has decided that it's time to start working a little harder on his own dreams. I am so glad he is, because too often we put our hopes and dreams on the back-burners as we focus on what has to be done, or rather what we believe has to be done. But we seldom ask ourselves... "does it really?"  What if so many of the things that we spend our days doing aren't truly necessary, but rather...we just lead ourselves to believe that they are? Have you ever just taken the time to chart out the day ahead, then to ask yourself....'Do I really need to do that?" "Is it benefiting me in a way that matters, or is it just busy making?" "Could that be left to someone else now, so that I can get back to the business of living life?"  So, here's the next project. A little shack on the hill, where the only entertainment is the view of the valley and the wildlife that is around us. For now..no hydro, no phone, no distractions. Just a platform to enjoy the peace that this valley of ours offers. Anyone interested in coming and spending a few hours sitting on the deck?  A new dawn, a new day, a new chance to begin again. Today, we are waiting for results from Cecil's follow up CT scan. Fingers are crossed that the news will be good, and that we can continue our dreams of Celyn Away and enjoying life, but anyone who's ever walked through the world of cancer knows, the waiting can be the worst. We are hopeful of course, and things looked good after the initial surgery and healing, but there are still those funny little things that the body continues to do that makes you just stop and take notice and to wonder. The little things that cause the big worries to keep raising their nasty heads. I decided to share my writing from the Portage General Hospital waiting room in July when Cecil was undergoing his initial surgery. Its a good reminder to me at this moment, of continuing to look for the gift, as we wait for the results. July 2014: Its been a long time since I've spent time in one of these rooms...and I can't say that I missed it at all. We've managed four years without major health risks or the loss of someone close to our hearts...but ten days ago that changed once again on us. The results of the colonoscopy came back with the biopsy test showing the growth that was found was malignant. Now the questions continue to circle, as we sit waiting for the completion of the surgery that will tell us whether the growth is contained, whether their will be life changing adjustments because of the surgery and of course the big question...whether we are in for a bigger battle than we are aware of at this moment. Cecil is in surgery as I write this. He was scared going in, we all are. The morning has been slow, the weeks ahead will be as well I fear, with the healing and the waiting to learn where things are at and what is next on our agenda. I keep trying to ask myself that if everything happens for me, not to me...what is the gift in this...for me...for us? My heart tells me that there is one, maybe many...but it has taken much deep thinking and quietly asking my heart. Here are some answers that have come to me:
My dear friend Bert LeSage once told me "It's hard to hear, but the truth is cancer gives us a gift...the gift of time, to say all that is in our hearts." I keep hearing his voice and seeing his kind, brown eyes, knowing that he knew more than I did at that time. It was the day after Greg, my first husband, had died of the same disease. In the 13 years since his passing, I've had time to get to know that Bert was right. Living through my own Mom's brief battle with pancreatic cancer in 2010 I held that thought and embraced every moment, shared every thought that needed to be shared, said every word of love that need to be spoken. In the end, with both of them, there was nothing left unsaid or undone...there was loss, but there was peace as well. That peace of heart and mind means so much. I will work towards that same sense of peace now, regardless of whether we are up against a long, hard battle...or whether this has just been a reminder to practice all that I preach and try to teach...to live in the moment, to appreciate everything that we have right now...to love with all my heart. Lesson learned, reminder acknowledged, gift accepted.  1985 Chris Craft Scorpion 230 We argue if she is a 1985 or a 1987, but it really doesn’t matter, the boat has been on the farm longer than either of us, and likely has more adventurous stories to tell. She was originally purchased by my late husband as a means to try and change the manic pace of the lifestyle he had led, and to find some sort of space to find peace and heal from the pain of his past. He found that solace in taking her to West Hawk Lake. He christened her Brooklyn Rose, after a Neil Diamond song that had stuck in his head. After he passed she sat there. I tried once to take it out on my own, that was a fiasco. When Cecil came into my life, we took her out occasionally to have some fun with the kids, and explore some of the lakes in and around Manitoba. But farm life was crazy busy, and the opportunities to spend much time relaxing and enjoying weekends seldom worked out. There was always hay to put up, cows to chase, kids to support, aging parents to spend time with. In the thirteen years we’ve been together, I don’t think we’ve put 20 hours on that boat. What a sad statement to make in how busy life can become. We’ve both had a dream that one day we’d buy a boat and go explore the Queen Charlotte Islands, and continue up the west coast of British Columbia, seeing what we could see. Experiencing new places and people and maybe even getting to visit the Haida Gwaii Islands has been a wish that we’ve both held onto for a long time. With this year’s cancer diagnosis we were reminded that we may not have a long time to start fulfilling these kinds of dreams, and it spurred us to take action. It hit me that I’m 54 this year, the same age that Greg was when he passed, Cecil is 57. The time has come to start paying closer attention. The years in between then and now had caused me to become complacent and relaxed about the endless future ahead...or maybe it was just getting caught up in the business of life and the other losses that we’ve suffered over the past several years. Whatever the reason, the diagnosis was what we needed to take action. Remember, everything happens for us, not to us. We decided that the boat was just what we needed to take the trip that we plan on next spring, mechanically she’s in great shape, but she’s kinds tired and old, much like ourselves. As we looked at what it would take to spruce her up, we remembered our son’s friend Paul Aquin of WrapidDesigns in Elie, Manitoba had once said he’d love to tackle the boat as a project. That was step one of her transformation. We had to find colours and a name that was more aligned with who we are now as a couple. We knew it needed to be shades of blue and spirited. Something that felt alive! Paul managed to piece together our ideas and thoughts, and the design for ‘Celyn Away’, her new name, was born. As with so many other things in life, once you get started, it’s hard to stop. We realized that now that the outside looked so smart and spruced up, the inside looked both tired and unmatched, so Paul connected us with Darryl Enns from Elm Creek, Manitoba, who has a canvas and leatherworks shop. We picked out the colours, and ‘Celyn Away’ has undergone an amazing transformation! Yes, it cost money, but buying something different would have as well, and the money invested has increased her value accordingly. It’s amazing what can be done to bring something that is so tired and worn down back to life. This is the story of a boat, but it goes for people as well. For us, at a time of much fear and discomfort, working on this gave us something to look forward to. Sometimes that’s all people need, to dream of something good in the future that will get them through today. Are we going to be making our voyage in the spring? Well that remains to be seen. This blog was created because our intention is yes, and setting an intention is the first big step. There are several months between now and then, and more doctors appointments that might change our course at any time, but for now our plans are to fulfill that dream, and any other’s that we’ve been putting off until the time is right. The time is right now!  "If not now, when" Rainbow over a golden grain field “If not us, then who? If not now, then when” John E. Lewis I love quotes, more than I can say. They slip into my head unexpectedly at any time of the day or night, and will often stay there until I ask myself why? Why that one now? Why here? Sitting at my computer, I’ve committed myself to a blogging challenge over the next several days. But in trying to think about what I want to share, the words “if not now, then when” just keep crawling into my thought process. I can almost feel them entering at the base of the hair follicles on the top of my head, follicles that seem to be alive with an electric current these days. It’s like the Universal Energy is trying to enter my system through the top of my head, and activate me to move forward. ‘If not now, then when?” it keeps asking me What I then have to ask myself, am I resisting more than I realize? And if I am, why is that? I don’t know where you are at your own journey these days, but we are definitely at a crossroads, as we focus on the changes that we are intent on making, yet at the same time afraid to, because the course is uncharted and unsecured in the ways we have grown accustomed to through the story of our life. Change is always scary, but it is also what allows us to grow, to expand and to be who it is we are meant to be. So why the resistance when I know what is necessary? My truth is that I’ve been working towards this point for a long time. I’ve been doing the little things to increase my skills and abilities in different areas of my life, but holding on to the old pieces like the security blanket that they are. I’ve been sitting on the fence in a way...not completely trusting that if I go to the other side I’ll be supported on the new journey forward. Yet how can I encourage others to take that leap of faith if I myself have not. So the Universe stepped in, as it always does. For those that may not know it, our summer did not go as planned at all. My husband’s ongoing physical challenges were finally identified as colon cancer in mid July. My heart dropped and my spirits sank, because it is not the first time I have walked that path with one I love. In 2001 I lost my first husband to the same disease, his starting as colon cancer before infecting his liver and eventually ending his life. We fought long and hard at that time, and my fear was that there would be a repeat of that walk this time. The diagnosis and the subsequent surgery and treatment forced me to get off the fence. Those around me played the roles necessary to make my decisions easier as I stepped away from the comfort of the work I have done for eleven years in a paid capacity, and twenty two years all in all as the mother of a child with a disability. I knew that this battle could not be fought a second time in the same way I’d been able to do it fifteen years ago...continuing to support parents, a disabled son, the farm we ran and the staff we employed. My energy from that time has changed, and my priorities have been clarified. As a Certified Passion Test facilitator I knew that I had to choose in favour of my passions, and I chose to let the security blanket go in favour of being able to be fully there for my husband whatever way things went. It is now the end of September and although the summer didn’t go as planned, it could have been so much worse. The surgery went well. The diagnosis is good at this time, and there is no further treatment for the time being. There are tests coming up in the next months that might change what today has brought us, but our focus is on now, and for right now we are okay. So what is this blog going to be all about? It is our journey from here, as we follow our passions and embrace life. It is about us, Cecil and Lynda ‘Celyn Away’ as we step into this gift of time that we’ve been given. It is about living life in the way we’ve not permitted ourselves to before, trusting that what needs to happen will, that for today we are well and able, and that this journey is short and could end at any time. I believe that things don’t happen to us...things happen for us. At a later time, I will share my thoughts on that as they were jotted own while waiting in the hospital during Cecil’s surgery. But for now, suffice it to say that this happened for us to be reminded that our time on this earth of ours is limited, and that we need to drink in the magic of it while we can, because in the blink of an eye it can all change. That lesson was not new to me, but I did need to be reminded of that. I have been...so “if not now, then when?” Now! |
Living our Dreams while Health allowsCancer came knocking on our door again in July of 2014. It's visited before, through different times and people, myself included. This time it dropped by to remind us that life is short and precious. It came to remind us that in our 50s, things can and likely will change quickly, so start doing what you've been promising yourself you would do! Archives
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