Bicycles & Chalk

Travelling back in time...

Near Victoria you'll come to this bridge.

I biked part of the Galloping Goose Trail just days before heading to Mosswood for Dream Teacher Training II. As fate would have it this section of the trial crossed in front of RECYCLISTAS bike collective. I peddled sheepishly past as my bike groaned and clunked praying that my chain wouldn't fall off or some other break down occur. Feeling guilty for neglecting the well being of my most trusty steed I vowed to do better.

So, last Saturday I learned how to tune up my bike with the help of the most patient bike repair guy I could have asked for, Theo, and another young student. For 3 hours I addressed long standing issues and got to sit in on how to change handlebars, add a bike carrier over the back fender and glanced now and again as another participant replaced a cable. All this for $25 + the cost of materials (to my surprise all sounded worse than it was; no materials were needed - whew). This is a great deal, I'll be back. Part of their gig is that you can use recycled bike parts or new in your repair.

Sunday, Rod and I walked in to town...yes, I said WE walked.

The Chalk Festival  - be sure to watch the video for 2 reasons:
1. You will hear the music of the O'Briens, a group I enjoyed on my last visit to Victoria

The O'Briens playing last year at Bastion Square.

and
2. You'll be introduced to the guy who brought chalk art to Victoria.

The festival was underway this morning dominated by a threatening sky. The 2 cordoned off blocks of Government Street were covered in semi-opaque tarps as artists and audience waited for the drippy weather to clear as it usually does by early afternoon. This gave us a chance to chat to many of the chalk artists.

The view down the road. This goes on for 2 blocks.
Realism, 3D and fantasy works are represented.
Artists come from B.C. and the western states (coast) mainly.

"It's kinda hard to see the real brilliance of this piece," the creator, an artist from Washington said with a laugh as we tried to peak through the hazy shroud.
"I look at it as a misty cloak that will unveil the beauty laying underneath gently as it is burned away by the sun." I said.
He paused, nodded and smiled, "Wow, that's a whole lot better than the vision I've had of viewing the work through cloudy cataracts."
I laughed with him thinking to myself how my dream teacher would say I provided him with a better dream. Years ago, a fellow art teacher friend had encouraged him to participate in the chalk festivals and, though his body protests somewhat now, he continues to take part.

3D art happening inside the Bay - done in paint not chalk

I loved this collection of bears,
especially the one up top with the huge salmon. 

Lovely, magical creation; very dreamy!

The story told by another was that this endeavour is part of a healing process to help her recover from a mental breakdown that forced her to leave her job. As we chatted it seemed that the healing was well under way and, perhaps that a new career in the arts is rising out of the ashes.

Ian, the guy who started it all. 

In the midst of all this, unbeknown to most of the crowd, the guy who brought chalk art to Victoria walked over his work adding a stroke here, a dab of colour there, all the while immersed in the flight of the ruby-throated humming bird and the magical world the beat of its wings were bringing into existence.

This looks like so much fun that I might try my hand at it next year, everyone was having a great time.

More than fair crossings

Last Sunday I left, for Dream Teacher Training II at Mosswood with Robert Moss, in very low spirits; feeling worn out. I returned, a changed person, on Friday. I will write about how this amazing transformation took place on my Awakening Choice Dreams blog. For now I'll just recount my experiences on the VICTORIA CLIPPER.

The trip over, via the walk-on ferry the Victoria Clipper, was magical due to the clear blue sky, the brilliant sun that shone on the calm glassy ocean and the profusion of wildlife. Conversations were halted by shouts of, "Over there!" as sightings of cavorting grey whales and orcas were claimed. Never have I seen so many whales during a crossing. To top it off, schools of porpoises gracefully escorted us into port.

A short note: tickets for the Clipper go on sale 7 - 2 days before your departure date. Book your reservation as early as possible or you will be, like I was, on standby. Sailings this time of year are very popular. Add a majour sporting event into the mix and 2 days in advance just won't cut it.

Luckily, I benefitted from a no-show.

As I was one of the last ones to board the packed vessel, a steward escorted me to a seat, placing me at a table with 5 worn out, dishevelled, middle-aged guys. This wouldn't have been my first choice but I thought what the hell, life's an adventure, no? 

Shortly after taking my seat, out of the blue one guy commented to his buddies, "I dreamt last night that I killed a bunch of people and 2 dogs. I felt really bad for shooting...the dogs but definitely not for killing the people". I admired the fact that he had unknowingly tapped in to one of the most important steps in dream work - how did you feel upon awakening. It was hard to resist blurting out, "I'm a dreamworker. Do you want to explore this further?".

However, when I overheard their conversation about the hike they'd just completed along West Coast Trail, a trip that I'd like to do someday, and one that roommates of mine returned from in the '80's looking as if they'd come back from a war zone, I commented on how lucky they were with the weather. Well, this opened up a most delightful conversation filled with stories of their week, hiking and gear advice complete with websites and product displays. Shoes and packs were passed across the table for me to check out. A profusion of pictures were enthusiastically presented to me with more pride than a mother would have showing pics of her newborn baby.

One man gave me his camera so I could scroll through his shots of colonies of roaring and posturing sea lions, grey whales breeching and pelicans gliding just above the water (I didn't know there were Pelicans out here.) Another shared his collection of a beautiful young woman in full make-up, wearing diamond studs that would choke a horse and a diamond ring that would have been the envy of Elizabeth Taylor. He told me, with great admiration, that she hiked the trail looking like a fashion plate whereas they looked like...well, 5 middle-aged guys trudging through the woods. And, she completed the trail in cheerful spirit in less time than they and with nary a hair out of place.

I left the boat refreshed and ready and rarin' to welcome the adventures in dreaming that lay ahead.

On the return sail shortly after leaving port we were engulfed by a mist shrouded terrain where sky and sea merged as one. Only the mournful sound of our ghost ship's horn declared our location; asking for safe passage.  The word "...Titanic..." was sprinkled in conversations throughout the cabin followed by nervous laughter.

During the misty passage I was entertained with the tale of a couples' trip to Ucluelet for storm watching. NOTE: The west coast of Vancouver is noted for spectacular winter storms and people come from all over the world to watch the waves and the surfers who brave them. The woman was captivated by the surfers. Her album was full of winter sky backlit silhouettes riding misty capped walls of waves in muted shades of silver and gold. This brought back my own memories of surfing with the Surf Sisters last year and so here are some pics from that...

Surfing baby waves at Long Beach, Tofino last year.
Perfect for this beginner.

During an "I can't believe I'm doing this" moment,
riding a wave to the beach
 I've spotted Rod.

With 45 minutes remaining we emerged from the clouds into a sunny, welcoming sky. The hint of land came into clearer focus and the passengers became excited at the prospect of exploring this part of lotus land. As Victoria revealed itself I became their tour guide answering questions and recommending sites to see and running trails to enjoy.

About 15 minutes out a flock of Pelicans gliding effortlessly over the now calm sea served as our welcoming committee.

Staycation vacation

Rod and I have been on Vancouver Island 1 whole month now. We are residents living like tourists which is the best way to discover one's new surroundings.

Scenes from the village of James Bay, a five minute walk from our place. This is where we do our grocery shopping, laundry and grab a coffee (I've discovered 5 coffee shops around the intersection that comprises the centre of the village).

Many cottage-like homes with English style gardens line narrow streets.

Fantastic fare to be found here: baking, local produce, honey, music
and even a  tarot card reader.

Drivers have to be alert for carriages, pedi-cabs, tour busses and sight seers
as well as for the young and old alike who just walk slower here.

I admit that this feels a little weird, this staycation that's really a vacation; no phone calls, no clients in need of emergency care, no one wanting to line up a job, workshop or appointment for next week or the week after that or the next...

Rod's taken to his retirement like a fish to water. Suddenly, free from the demands of customers and the estimating that filled evenings and weekends, he's read more books since we got here than he has during our whole relationship! And I used to think he was a non-reader, a trait, which for a Thacker - voracious readers that we all are - was incomprehensible. Years ago I found the most difficult challenge put before me during a vipasana retreat wasn't not talking. I loved that! That was a piece of cake. But, not reading, that was impossible. My eyes would lite on print everywhere: cereal boxes, t-shirts, boxes of tea and the little tab on the tea bags... I fixated on the washing instructions on the tags of my clothes.

This vacation finds me, at unexpected moments: in the middle of a shower, when I awaken, as I'm doing dishes, chomping at the bit to "make something happen". The underlying catalyst for this is a limboish feeling of dropping into space that washes over me now and again. I'm not the one retiring. I'm on vacation. But vacations have a beginning, middle and end and then you go back to work. With undetermined time, place and work to "return" to I feel eerily unemployed; redundant.

So, just as I acknowledged my compulsion to read and got back to the silence of my mind I feel my redundancy and get back into the headspace of vacation.

This time just for me, away from my practice, is precious. I tell myself there will be work again, clients will call and I will be able to remember how to do what I do.

Setting Up & Homecoming

We've been in our new neighbourhood, James Bay, for 19 days now. Blogging hasn't been a priority due to these events...

Written at the base of the Terry Fox Statue at Mile 0 in Beacon Hill Park

Because our 17 ft van was soooo loaded we've been de-cluttering and getting rid of things. After-all, 2 businesses got packed up as well as personal stuff. And it all has to fit into a 2 bedroom apartment as we downsize from a 3 bedroom + garage with full basement all with ample storage.

Ah storage space, the great deceiver, lulled me into thinking that I possessed little. It was just tucked away and forgotten. Though we're not consumers, 27 years has given us plenty of time to accumulate. A little thing here and a little thing there, it all adds up to a sh**load of stuff.

Boxes full of stuff have gone to the Salvation Army; more is yet to follow. Some of Rod's stuff will go to good use when we donate it to Habitat for Humanity. 3 boxes of books await delivery to a second hand bookshop in hopes that they can overlook those that are earmarked, underlined and filled with notes in the margins... pretty much all of them.

I've allotted myself 1 bookcase to house my most treasured books. Though Kindle fulfills much of my desire to own material I still love the look and feel of the printed page!

Lugging this stuff all the way across country wasn't a mistake. Surprisingly, what seemed essential from my Burlington life's vantage point changed the instant we got here confirming that I actually am starting  a new phase of my life. Who knows where it will lead? I only know that I have to be a whole lot less encumbered in order for it to really take off. As things drop away I'm feeling lighter and lighter.

There will be more de-cluttering over the next few weeks: slides and photos need to be consolidated; 3 boxes of letters and cards (down from 4) carted back and forth from B.C. to Ontario over the years are waiting to be re-read, let go or kept; and the 4 boxes of Christmas decorations were too much to get into before we left.

4 boxes of mine - 2 small and 2 huge ones remained unexplored, filled with God knows what unessentials. I got into all but the biggest one today and miracle of miracles it all fits into the cabinet that Rod made me. The rule is if I don't love it, it's gone. Hmm, still loving a fair bit...we've got great storage in this place - yikes!

Exhausted little girl

Flippy and Maya arrived on the Mon the 12th thanks to the efforts to Pam and Morgie (her handsome grey and white longhaired cat) aka Special Air Freight Agent and Crew. Pam picked them up from the Cats' Castle, gave Flippy a shoulder to snuggle and Maya pats to soothe, put them up for the night and arose at some ungodly hour the next morning to chauffeur them to the airport for 6a.m. Via cel phone she gave me a play by play of the events as they unfolded. I slept on our couch in the living room so as not to disturb Rod with her early morning reports.

Upon coming home, the girls slinked around the apartment for a good while. Then Flippy disappeared for 90 minutes. I couldn't find hide nor hair of her and it was freaking me out. To calm and assure myself I kept repeating the mantra, She didn't get out, she's in here somewhere. And just like magic she walked out of a closet I'd checked umpteen times.

Later, out of the corner of my eye, I caught her squeezing herself through an opening, seemingly half of her girth in width, in the kick under the kitchen cupboards. One leg and her tail were all that I had to grab in order to haul her outta there.

It was all too much stimulation for her so I wrapped her up in a blankie, sat on the bathroom floor with her and closed the door. Feeling secure once more she was out for a few hours while I read.

Yin and Yang - Maya finds consolation with Flippy

Maya, intrepid explored that she is, seemed unscathed. But while we watched TV she crashed behind me, laying on the back of the couch for the rest of the night.

The rest of the time we were: visiting and exploring the city and some choice restaurants with Rod's sister and her hubby who were in town for a few days and staying at a nearby hotel, exploring the hood and doing all that needs doing when one changes residence from Ontario to B.C.

Once the B.C. license plates were put on my car it felt official...WE LIVE HERE!

Leaving full of HOPE

SUITCASE DIARIES
DAY 7
Tues Aug 6

Hope to Victoria via TCH to Tsawwassen ferry terminal to Swatrz Bay #17 Pat Bay Hwy, TCH into Victoria and we're home in James Bay.

*        *        *

I went for a one hour snooze at 9:30 p.m. last night and work up at 7:30 this morning.With the pressure of long drives behind us I "crashed". Today is an easy day. 2 hours to the ferry from here, 90 min ferry ride and then we intend to find a place in Sidney for the night. (As you can see by the itinerary we decided to motor on.)

Brekkie today at the Kan Yon Restaurant in downtown Hope is a little slice of small town life. I can't help but over hear conversation between 3 local people, casually sitting a few seats apart from each other at the snack bar, talking about: stem cell "beef", service providers Shaw vs Telus, local festivals and accomplished children (a psychologist and a photographer amongst the bunch). Maybe they know each other; maybe they don't. It's a typical Chinese Canadian establishment that you find in many a small towns on the road providing very satisfying homey fare.

Complimentary fortune cookies accompany our bill, as he cracks open his cookie Rod says, "Let's see what is has to say to us about the rest of our trip." He's been hanging around me too long. "Listening, not imitation, is the highest form of flattery."

Grinning from ear to ear I nod my approval. "I couldn't agree with that more!"

And mine reads, "The less one has to do, the less time one finds to do it in". Providing a little nod to the relativity of time in my quest for a slower pace.

Goin' down the road I glance back in the rear view mirror at the snow capped mountains fading in the distance as we head off to the delta plains and the Tsawwassen Bay ferry to Swatrz Bay on Vancouver Island. I smile knowing that these mountains will be our playground for the next few years.

Feeling upbeat on this sun filled day I choose to skip music selections that are beginning to repeat on my i-pod as well as: Spanish instruction, most new age and instrumental selections. Tony Bennett and Elvis Costello chime in on Are You Havin' Any Fun? followed by Blue Rodeo's Til I Am Myself Again. I laugh waiting in line for the ferry as Bill Cosby spins a tale of a "typical" visit to The Dentist and am awed by the multi-talented, story teller extraordinaire, Shel Silverstein weaving tales of mischievous delight and singing his composition of Silvia's Mother. I mimic the vocal stylings of: Nat King Cole, Mel "the velvet fog" Tormé, Frank Sinatra and Kenny Rankin. I wail along with Janis, Melissa Etheridge and Amanda Marshall, sounding just like them in my mind's ear. The Canadian contingent that appears today are: The Boomers, Rufus Wainright, Prairie Oyster, Paul Langille, Ladybird Sideshow and Sarah McLaughlin.

The ferry is the most appropriate ending for our epic journey. I'm returning to the island, this time with my little family. It's been heart warming to see the U-haul in the centre of every image along the way knowing that Rod's there and he's on a long awaited adventure of his own. He says he can't take it all in yet; it feels surreal. There's been too much to do and more yet to be done. But me, I'm already home. As we sit one the deck we decide that the day is young so why not head down to our apartment and settle in with sleeping bags and padding for bedding tonight to get a jump on the movers who will arrive tomorrow afternoon.

While Rod catches some zzz's inside I walk the decks for some needed exercise, soaking in the sun, salt sea air and reacquainting myself with the islands we pass along the way. I really feel I'm returning home; the passion I feel for this part of the country stirs me.

On one of my passes a man on the foredeck points to a small school of dolphins passing through the channel. I and a few others are fortunate to witness their presence.

"I like your feathers," he says. I'm wearing the feather earrings Marisa gifted to me and of course there's the feathers in the tattoo on my arm. He opens his shirt collar to reveal a small feather pendant. I express my appreciation for the beauty of this land and tell him that, "I'm moving from southern Ontario where there is little respect for the land to this place and people that honour it."

His manner of speech, subject of conversation and perspective lend him the air of a native elder as he speaks of the need not only to respect the land but to replace criticism and judgment with prayer that our leaders may have wisdom and be supported in their work and do better by the energy we send them. He speaks of liking, not liking and indifference. How challenging, but necessary, it is to send to one and all alike, healing positive energy.

What is there to learn from this situation? Today the card - Kahuna/expert - asked me to consider this and here it is.

The call to return to our cars to prepare for departure ends our conversation and I wish him well. He says as he presses his hand to mine, "You are a healer and will bring the energy here to what you do." I had told him nothing about myself. Time will tell.

As we disembark from the ferry and head down the road to Victoria, a bald eagle flies overhead leading  the way.

*        *        *

We gave away all of our plants and then found Prickly Penis left alone in the corner so we had to bring him with us.
He was a real trouper. We gave him breaks now and again to catch some rays.
Let's hope he finds Victoria to his liking.

Our little place is perfect and Paul, the super welcomes us and orients us to our new digs in James Bay. At 8 p.m. Rod and I enjoy the freshest Pacific Halibut fish and chip dinner down at the wharf only a hop, skip and jump from our new "home".

People are peeing everywhere

SUITCASE DIARIES
Day 6
Calgary Alberta to Hope B.C. on the #1 Trans Canada Hwy, the 5 from Kamloops and back on to TCH into Hope
Leaving at 9 a.m. arriving at 7p.m. (time change - back one hour) roughly 9 hours driving time

NOTE the post dates were off by one day as I was entering them after midnight - sorry for confusion. This post date is correct as I've set it myself and I reset the others.

*        *        *

We headed out from Calgary for the lavender foothills in the distance at 9a.m. with the sun at our backs.

As the mountains get nearer and nearer my excitement grows.

The playful cloud formations of the prairies: farting fish, benevolent Buddha hand, flying duck chasing leaping puppy, fire breathing dragon have given way to mystical ethereal fingers drawing whispy cloud carpets over the Rockies and I am moved.

This range conceals what lies beyond and I'm filled with anticipation as we approach, then pass through this portal. Engulfed by the peaks we disappear from where we came.

Although my heart knows this place it's like I've never been here before; my eyes are so wide open. When I was here before I was half asleep in my body, my mind and soul and to the presence of everything around me. Maybe part of the difference is that this time I'm driving, I'm no longer a passenger. I think I was a passenger in my own life back then.

The backdrop of soaring strings, and soulful horns intensifies the emotions of my passionate, breaking heart; breaking from the beauty and power of such majesty. If there is a more beautiful place on this earth it is impossible for me to comprehend right now. New age and classical music pours out of my i-pod as I drive for hours through these parks: Banff National Park, Jasper National Park, Kootenay National Park, Glacier National Park, Yoho National Park.

I love that I can see Rod driving through all of this with me.

I suggest you google these parks and images for pics. I was too engaged to take photos. None could possibly do them justice

*        *        *

Rod: "There are people peeing everywhere over here."

Note to anyone driving through the park system of the TCH from east to west. It takes about 6 hours so ...IF YOU HAVE THE SLIGHTEST INKLING TO PEE, DO IT AT EVERY OPPORTUNITY. You will be lulled into a false sense of security for the first 3 hours as there are many pit stops provided along the way but after that - ha!

This is the view from "the pee spot" which was so popular.
Of course, just down the road were indoor washrooms but bladders were bursting.

READERS' WARNING: the following contains information that readers of the more sensitive sex, when it comes to matters of personal feminine hygiene, may find yucky (Rawbear, this means you especially!). You may want to skip to the next *  *  *

I'd finally seen a sign for an information building about 5km down the road but Rod, who was driving ahead of me, turned into an area where he saw other desperate souls pulled over and I, sheep-like, followed. I made my way into a relatively secluded spot, squatted and peed with the force of a fire hose. Problem is I didn't use the Whiz Kit; result, massive splash back as the pee hit the dry ground and a lovely pool formed around my right foot (fortunately I had a full bottle of water with which to clean off). This is one more advantage of the pee kit as I discovered at the next pee spot. Having mastered the standing pee, I was delighted with the stream that sprayed well out of my way leaving my feet dry. I will admit it feels a little dicey at first but it's soooo liberating!

*        *        *

Of note this day coming out of the i-pod other than the lovely pieces that graced my way through the Rockies:
Satori, Natalie Merchant - Equestrienne, Xavier Rudd, Julaka - night street, Janis Joplin, Melissa Manchester, Amanda Marshall, Simply Red,
Canadians of note today - Prairie Oyster, Serena Ryder

*         *         * 

With the long drives behind us and a leisurely night ahead, no need to arise early, Rod and I enjoy a meal a local pub's outside porch. Salmon on a croissant and a garden salad with a Corona with lime are my reward. "We are in our home province now," I say to Rod. It feels right and I'm conscious of the barrier the Rockies provide between B.C. and the rest of Canada - it is no wonder that B.C.'ers feel like a separate entity.

JOURNEY HOME

SUITCASE DIARIES

(I should call this bathtub diaries as the last 2 entries were written in bathtub and shower. Sharing one bedroom does provide its challenges when exhaustion demands, quite, darkness and sleep for one and a place to work for another in a motel. Actually it works out quite well.)

Day 5 - Regina to Calgary via the #1 Trans Canada Hwy
We left at 9:30 a.m. and got in at 9:30 p.m.

the badlands of Alberta taken in one direction

Rod and I were driving through Saskatchewan today for many hours...

Rod: "How are you doing?"
Me: "Great! And, you?"
Rod: "Good, I just woke up from a nap."
Me: "Oh ya, I just finished a yoga practice. Headstand was a bit of a challenge but I managed."
Rod: "I just thought I'd warn you that a curve is coming up in about 15 minutes."

That's how straight and flat the territory is here - you can see for miles in every direction. Add to that, that: eastbound and westbound traffic is separated by a substantial grassy meridian, you can set the car on cruise and there is little traffic going our way (more eastbound cars and only eastbound cyclists so far) and you can see that the potential for sleepiness is a real threat. I actually was able to do some yoga stretches while driving and it did help a lot.

Goin' down the road - the boarder between Saskatchewan and Alberta

The past 3 days I've been reminded to use caution while driving these past 3 days as I have drawn the Meditate card - when you drive, drive.

The scrubby trees of the Ontario watershed area that supplies the arctic waters gave way to a carpet of purple wild flowers flanked by stands of trees on either side of the road for 30 minutes and then "poof" they were gone and we were in the big sky territory of the prairies.

I marvel at the vastness of the sky, the high ceiling. It's fortunate that I wasn't born and raised in the prairies as I probably couldn't live anywhere else, I would find it too claustrophobic. As we drove through the badlands of Alberta into the setting sun the horizon was so barren and expansive I felt as if I was driving off the edge of the earth.

The day began with country western songs, appropriate for this rugged farm land, from 92.7 BIG DOG radio. Later, my i-pod on mix provided me with an eclectic mix, among them: The Smothers Brothers - Mom always liked you best routine, the Stones, Josh Groban, Spanish language lessons, Spike Lee's You Only Hurt the Ones You Love, and Canadian artists: Jann Arden (Calgarian), Blue Rodeo, Valdy, Great Big Sea, the Barenaked Ladies to mention a few. I skipped the New Age stuff, the classical and things that were too sedate.

My emotions are calmer today. Maybe I exorcised them at the Ontario Manitoba boarder where I stopped yesterday for a brief ceremony. My longest time friend, Janet had given me a portable smudge kit years back and I've been using it on this trip to smudge my car at the beginning and end of each day.   As I stood looking back to Ontario I asked that any heavy, negative energy be released, I gave thanks for all that this province has blessed me with and I asked for forgiveness for any transgressions during my stay there and with that I threw tobacco, white sage and a small prayer bundle into the air.

and in the other direction

The first song that came up after this ceremony would be telling. The first one was OM MANI PADME HUM then KAHAWI'THA by Joanne Shenandoah and later NORTHERN BOUND from the WINGED MIGRATION soundtrack (discernible lyrics are "journey home") - perhaps this is auspicious.