“Without giving up hope—that there’s somewhere better to be, that there’s someone better to be—we will never relax with where we are or who we are.” ~ Pema Chodron
The cold Pacific surf is pounding outside our oceanfront room in Tofino, British Columbia.
This is surfer’s paradise—those surfers who love cold water and the wild, west coast of Vancouver Island.
I am here on a four day getaway with my lover, celebrating 23 years of togetherness, and a future we have been manifesting together. Five hours drive from home, we are being infused with tranquility.
Between visiting our daughter, yoga and meditation classes, meals shared and walks taken, it is still easy for me to get lost in my work, which comes with me wherever I go. Being a creative—in my case, a writer—carries the danger of becoming lost within the mind, exploring all those caverns where ideas are born and gestated.
I am always engaged in a balancing act of filling and emptying my creative vessel.
This weekend, I have brought my computer to stay on top of my social media, which is how I connect with my readers. It is how I am able to find my tribe. It is my joy to exchange daily anecdotes with people from all over the world who read my elephant journal posts and the novels I have penned. But sometimes, for my partner, the business of writing becomes exactly that—too much work and not enough play. He is supportive without end, but I see those moments in his eyes when he wonders if I will ever be done with the stories, the poems, the connection to the numinous that keeps my inspiration fed.
This morning, as the frost lifted from the shrubbery and trees, I stood facing the wildness before me asking for wisdom. I asked for peace in the midst of turmoil as the waves crashed and the water frothed, and my mind churned with possibilities. I wanted so badly to turn away and write out the flood of words in my heart and brain. But stillness called and spirit spoke.