Seeds Sown, Leaps of Faith, and Full Moons...
I sat writing early last Thursday morning down on the beach of our summer cabin. The sun had not yet risen to the East. Summer was fast fading and with the fading of the summer days this year, came the close of a forty-year chapter. I found myself in deep reflection. I am ever so grateful for the place and the space that I have called my summer home for forty years … Christina Lake, you are forever engraved on my heart. I wanted so much for my daughters to love, experience, and understand this place as I do – and I was granted this gift. We have all grown up here, even my parents were babies in their thirties when we embarked upon this adventure.
It's fascinating to look back in hindsight at decisions that were made, seeds that were sown so very long ago, never knowing the impact they might have on a life, good or bad. Some decisions are really hard - emotionally, financially - and we can't possibly predict the twists and the turns that may lie ahead. And sometimes, we must take the leap of faith anyways… following something deep within – something inexplicable - hoping and praying, yet somehow knowing, that they are right for us. Somehow understanding that they will bring much richness and joy to our lives.
I imagine that buying this untouched piece of property forty years ago was one such decision for my parents. We did not have a lot of money growing up – we never wanted for anything, but we certainly didn't have extra. It would have been a very big decision for them to invest in such property, and a huge endeavor to then build the very cabin(s) that would become our home away from home for the next forty summers. And this is precisely what they did. They took a leap of faith and they trusted their hearts. At the time they could never have imagined the unfolding of the next forty years: births and deaths, love and loss, joy and sorrow – becoming themselves grandparents, their young daughters becoming women (then parents), grand-daughters born and growing up here too, partners that came, and then moved on. Through it all, there remained one constant: our family.
This is my place – my sacred piece of cherished Earth. And though I will no longer watch the sun rise over that opposing mountain, I feel peace. I feel joy. I feel love. And most of all, I feel gratitude. Will I have tears? Of course. This is goodbye to an era. I was a girl of 12 when we began this adventure. This place has been my constant, my default, my paradise. It has taught me much about myself, about who I long to be, and how I long to live: I crave quiet and peaceful mornings. The sun and the water fill my soul like nothing else does. Unplugging from the daily routines of life just feels good and right. Belly laughs and board games are requirements at "the cabin". Crows are my Spirit Animal. Dogs are family. One should only sleep indoors when it rains. We really only need our very favourite items of clothing, the rest is redundant. Nothing tastes better than coffee at the lake. It's not fancy houses or fancy cars that bring us happiness. Old songs around the campfire are delightful, and hearing your children and your parents sing them together is pure joy. When it's dark, it's time for bed. Time outside, moving in nature – swimming, hiking, playing – just feels natural.
As the sun crested the mountain on this early Thursday morning past, I was left with nothing but joy and gratitude in my heart for the seeds sown by my parents for our family so very long ago, for the forty summers I have spent here, surrounded by love. As I listened quietly to the voices and the giggles of the children around the campfire, themselves embarking on a very possible forty-year adventure, because of a leap of love their parents have made for them, I feel excitement and joy for them. And, as we pass the torch their way, I wish nothing but a beautiful forty years in the paradise built on love and family and a leap of faith.
September 1st, 2020 is already upon us, and the beautiful Full Moon tonight is making me reflect again, as it does, on another important decision made just four years ago. Another such decision made in love… for myself. I put down my wine glass for the very last time… it's fascinating to look back in hindsight at decisions that were made, seeds that were sown so very long ago, never knowing the impact they might have on a life. Some decisions are really hard, and we can't possibly predict the twists and the turns that may lie ahead. And sometimes, we must take the leap of faith anyways… following something deep within – something inexplicable - hoping and praying, yet somehow knowing, that they are right for us. Somehow understanding that they will bring much richness and joy to our lives.
And so it is, that the (almost) Full Moon shone down on our cabin for my Mom and Dad last night for the last time… reaping forty years' worth of memories from the seeds that were sown in the New Moon phase of their life, on a leap of faith and love.
And so it is, that the Full Moon shines down here tonight, reaping four years' worth of gifts, wonder, wisdom and growth for choosing to live a life that I carefully – and deliberately – create... all because of seeds sown, and a leap of faith and love.