Wonder in the everyday

December 12, 2020

Wonder in the everyday

" Here's what I think," he says. "The old wisdom tells us that ancient power spots and sacred sites are gateways. I believe that the true openings lie inside us. In our own hearts, minds, and lives.
"Perhaps all you need to do is set out on a journey in search of it, believing that when the journey ends you will be there. Not perhaps. Not maybe. Leave no room for doubt. So with the understanding that the path you take will bring you there. And if it feels like you need a ritual, then make one up. But don't make it easy. Easy doesn't earn you anything."
"Just like that."
Seamus gives me a sad smile. "It's never 'just like that,' Joey. Even you know that much."
Charles De Lint, "A Tangle of Green Men"

November came, and went, leaving me a year older, and a first-time tutu. I'm grateful for the new year, amazed at the events, challenges and choices that make up this life. Becoming a grand-mother feels much as I imagine the old nurse logs feel as newer evidence of being Cedar, or Fir, use the aged richness of decomposing trunk to root themselves to the forest floor while reaching for the sky above.

In the woods surrounding the camp where we live now, an older version of forest is present. Plantation forestation is not as prevalent; Cedar sisters rise in a stand, hand root and limbs in a graceful arch. When I am out for a walk it is to this stand of Cedar I come to place my hand, or arms around their rough and resilient selves. Sometimes, I stand with my back against their raising trunks and settle into their presence to get a feel for what that means to simply, and completely be present.

" [M]aybe that’s the whole point of these journeys. We embark upon them because it seems we have no other choice, but in fact we do have choices every step of the way and it’s what we do with those choices that either lead us out of the woods again, or leave us prey to the wolves."

On the other hand, the edge of the forest where our camp and vardo are perched, very tall Alder fill in the woods where once the Cedars grew as water catchers. A friend once described Alder as the band-aids in a a native forest. Every night when we are in bed the dark limbs of leafless Alder tattoo the sky in amazing patterns.

"One of my favourite things to do when I write is to bring a sense of wonder to a normal everyday setting ... Yes, there are magical elements, but there are also very down-to-earth elements and often what shines through isn't the magic, but the lanterns that the characters light against the dark...Magic never solves the problems--we have to do that on our own--but in fiction it allows the dialougue to have a much more organic approach than the talking heads one can encounter in fiction that doesn't utilize the same tools."

The fog has settled around us here, our neighbor Dan is off to work, and Pete and I are warm and cozy in our tiny home. Our journey, begun more than twelve years ago, has led here. Our companions and the places have woven into our life leaving their marks upon us, and no doubt, we have left marks on them as well.

"We have it pretty good," Pete says. He's leaning up against the back wall, long legs stretched out on the futon playing solitaire with the tiny deck of cards he's now so completely comfortable with he can't imagine playing with the usual decks he'd played with for most of his life. A small thing this adaptive 'magic' we have ... consolidating or expanding to fit the life that is the one we live.

And though it may not be magic, the technology that is the internet, does connect us with those we love to make a virtual tether feel real. These photographs arrived last night while we slept with the title "First pacific dip." I opened the email. Magic may never solve the problems, but as my favorite written talisman reminds me "Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."