Safe Passage

Suitcase Diaries Road Trip: Moving to Vancouver Island
Day 1

This image is magical and is exactly how I feel as I drive.

I'm writing from THE RICHARD LAKE MOTEL in Sudbury where Ryan Reynolds once stayed. I know this because there's a signed pic of him predominantly displayed at the reception desk. We pulled in at about 10:30; finally left Burlington around 3:30 after a tearful good bye to Flippy and Maya who will be staying at the CAT'S CASTLE until the 12th. Little Maya was a real trouper, walking around their room checking out the other residents while Flippy was having a melt down hovering in a corner in their kennel. Ron brought her a privacy tent where she could hide til she felt safe

I have been having flash backs during our drive today through southern Ontario; a place that I know well from past experiences.

I waved goodbye to the urban sprawl that is happening above the #5; something Burlington residents were promised would never happen due to the importance of our farmlands but the powers that be have not stood by their word. Rod and I marvelled that neighbours can now watch people enjoying the roller coasters at CANADA'S WONDERLAND. I don't know when this happened as it used to be in the middle of nowhere. We wondered how long it will be until residents of the neighbourhood complain about the noise.

King City, the location for my lomi trainings with Harriette and Birgit, reminded me of my lomi ohana (family). Lomi really was responsible for setting the wheels in motion for this whole adventure. As I worked with the power of intention my intentions became clearer as to who I wanted to be and one thing lead to another and here I am taking a journey I really wasn't thinking of in 2005. Thanks go out to Lynne, my flying instructor for saying to me, about lomi "You, of all people, really have to do this!"

Mount St Louis is where Nor drove to through horrendous snowstorms so that we could go downhill skiing. Across the road the cross country course where Ellen, Arnie, Rod and I enjoyed a spring skiing on corn snow wearing only sweaters and jeans being careful not to end up in the pool of water which had formed at the end of the trail cus your skis would come to a grinding halt and you'd be catapulted into the puddle in the blink of an eye.

As we pass the sign for Lake Rousseau I realize that my niece had lived up here for a few years; lucky girl! Rod and I rented a cottage on nearby Lake Muskoka in '94.  That was when I discovered my love of kayaking and the "Thacker" wave was born. My brother Rob and Dad came up with a virtual flotilla in tow including a yellow kayak. Since he had to drive at a snail's pace to accommodate the load, Dad waved on the cars behind them to encourage them to pass. However, to the mortification of my brother, Dad's arthritic fingers made it look like he was giving them "the finger" so drivers gave them "the look"as they passed.

The sign for WHITE SQUALL kayaking outfitters and school takes me back to the self-rescue training weekend with my late friend Mary. Being small, nimble and fit, it was easy peasy for me to get in and bail the craft out numerous times, not so for my much larger friend. She gained my total respect as she displayed patience, perseverance and ingenuity as she made attempt after attempt and finally, nearly totally worn out, completed one rescue.

Parry Sound carries memories of Bryan's cottage where I spent almost the whole weekend in the buff laying on a rock like a lizard when I wasn't swimming or feeding the chipmunks. Near there is a cut off for Marisa's cottage. A few years ago she hosted a wine and cheese tasting evening and sleep over for  "Council of the Sleepover" members. This was my first long drive one that I was too chicken to do the year before. And now I've embarked on the quintessential Canadian road movie experience - driving across the country to a life that fits better.

I was going to say a better life, but that isn't so. The past 27 years has been an amazing ride and I have truly been blessed with wonderful friends and clients. The past few months have been filled with emotional endings and good byes but how lucky am I to have to endure this.

The Council of the Sleepover promised me that if I returned to Ontario there would be lots of get togethers and they didn't disappoint! Thank you, thank you, thank you

The chocolates Susan and Neil dropped into the mailbox for Rod and I to savour during the journey never made it out of the house. In true comfort food fashion they comforted us during our time of need, the hectic few days of packing up our stuff.

I eat a bagel from Tim's paid for by the GC from Regina and Sandy as I drive to tunes selected for me by 2 friends Russ and Dan: one compilation CD is all about dreams whereas the other is a bit of a blast from the past - Moody Blues and the Cowboy Junkies. The walkie talkie endorsed by Andrea sits beside me and allows "little buddy" to communicate with "my guy" who leads the way in the U-haul (I'd have taken a pic of the insides of it but, being one who claims not to have a lot of stuff, I find it too embarrassing as it's packed to the gills).

On my dash is the eagle feather that I found on the island last year; the one that called me back "home". Alongside this is the beautiful safe passage basket that Sue crafted for me just for this special journey and in it is a scroll containing this poem. I'm not sure whether Sue is its author or not - she may have told me when she presented me with it but I was internally too emotional to take it all in.

I carry with me other gifts: the spectacular journal (it will be christened during dream teacher training II at Mosswood in Sept) from Di my always meant to be sister-in-law; the golden shawl from my 97 year old inspiring amiga Liliane; most special heart stones from Kalani and Flo; knitting needles from my knitting buddies Pam and Glyn; feather earrings (that I'm wearing now, that came with a fantastic necklace) from Marisa; the picture from Aust and Linda of downtown Oakville in the winter (as we won't have many of those on the island) Oakville as I remember it from when I worked across the road at Oakville Shiatsu and Massage Therapy Centre; the tree of life glass work from our "Dan's party" friends; and Rod and I will enjoy many a meal funded by Roseanne and Pete, Dave and others; the feminine pee kit from my longest time friend Janet (I promised her a product review so check in frequently to read that...)

And there are those gifts that touch my heart, fare well get togethers with: Sue and Katie; Austin and Linda; Susan and Neil; Eva; Rob, Sue, Candy and Rick; a visit from Montrealers Kathy and Jim complete with Montreal bagels from that cool 24 hr bakery and Jim's helping hands to ease Rod's load on those final workdays; Pam and my visit to Flo's where we witnessed that amazing rainbow around the sun; being drummed out for a safe journey at the last full moon fire ceremony by Janet (and the sacred spit, called by another name :-)) and the 19 other participants; Glynnie's "don't go" spontaneous burst in the middle of dinner which made us all jump and then burst out laughing at last weekend's "Council of the Sleepover" sleepover; Austin's company and help on Tuesday as we prepared to load the truck which lightened our load; the kind people at the kitty castle. Candy's last minute errands. Pam's help with the kitties, and our next door neighbour who took a ton of stuff this aft saving me from taking it to the reuse centre. The telephone chats with my sister Jude and the e-mails from so many; the list goes on and I'm sorry if I missed anyone.

People dropped by to say bon voyage (some more than once) and client's came for that one last session.

How can I leave them I ask. And, that's how it should feel. Thank you all for your kind wishes, your calls, hugs and words of encouragement and support. You are in my heart always!

And, last of all, goodbye 5305. When I came back to Ontario I never imagined I'd ever own a place of my own, have my own garden, let alone renovate it (that amazing bathroom too) with my guy. What a gift you have been!

Maya's "fuzzy" was the last thing I found when I took a final tour.

...and exhale everybody!

A-a-a-a-h-h-h-h, that's the relieving sound of a big exhaled breath.

I haven't posted since May 6th because, I've been doing my version of goin' holoholo around the sale of our home and move to Victoria. Rod and I have talked about living on Vancouver Island for years, saying that, "In 3 years we'll move out there." 

Guess what? 3 years is up.

I've returned to the island 4 times since I moved back to Burlington in '86. I was anxious that the first visit would leave me pining for Victoria and surrounds and was totally surprised to discover that in my heart I knew that Ontario was exactly where I was supposed to be. Not only supposed to be but wanted to be. I was totally content to come back after that visit and after the second one but, in 2010 things changed. I was getting stirrings. I found myself perusing the want ads for homes for sale. I wandered the streets under the guise of going for a walk but in reality I was checking out what was available. 

So, when we attended our niece's wedding in Aug last year we both knew the time was right. This was confirmed when Rod returned home to Burlington while I stayed on for another few weeks. We both came to the same conclusion, during our time apart. We need to move now while we have many years to explore the island and use it as a home base from which to venture to areas on the west coast of Canada and the U.S., Hawaii, Asia, New Zealand and Australia. 

To say I'm excited is an understatement. 

But, once the decision was made I strangely felt the need to keep it kinda hush, hush. I didn't want to jinx it (taking the holoholo casual approach). I waited til January to tell my clients we were leaving as I imagined them all bailing on me in a mad rush to find another therapist. This didn't happen. In fact I've been busier than ever as many are wanting that, "one last treatment". And, I couldn't dare write about it because that for sure would mess things up, and since that's been the A#1 thing on my mind; the thing I'd most likely blab about, I had to avoid my blog like the plague.

But now, not only has our place sold but we, just yesterday, landed our apartment, the place that will be home for the first year at least, if not longer.

A-a-a-a-h-h-h-h!

So this is what you'll see on our lawn until Sat when, having fulfilled COMFREE's request to put it up for 2 weeks, we can take it down.

Flippy's in shock and later takes to my bed for the day

On July 31st Rod and I, having closed up shop, will leave family and friends, and embark on, the subject of the iconic Canadian movie, a road trip across the country to fulfill our dreams for the future.

The day before I put the sign up waves of nausea washed over me. After we hammered it into the lawn Flippy stayed away from her usual post in front of the door as neighbourhood watch, she ate very little choosing to lay on my bed most of the day; she was in a funk. 

I told Rod, "Flippy's really bummed by the sign."

"I didn't know she could read," he replied.

I laughed, "No, that sign isn't supposed to be there. It's just not how her front yard is supposed to look." But secretly I wonder...  

And, Maya our other spayed female kitty, has taken up spraying in her spare time earning her a new nick name...Squirt. 

I don't know what they're so worried about. They're going to stay in a kittie retreat centre, be flown out in high style, met at the airport and chauffeured to their home where they'll continue to be spoiled rotten.

To say we're all a little anxious would also be an understatement.

TAKE A NAP

I can't believe my last post was Mar 10th. I have entered 2 posts since then in the blog at AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS, my website on dreams - The Missing Manual and Magical Mythstory Tour. I tend to hibernate towards the end of the winter months and early spring: my creative juices dry up, exposure to media overwhelms me, I really have nothing much to say and I just want to enjoy life and pull back a little. But I'm revving up now and ready to roll.

In Magical Mythstory Tour you'll read about my trip to Gore Mountain in New York state to attend Robert Moss' gathering of dreamers. I won't repeat it here, just hop on the link and read it for yourself. I'll wait...

...O.K. now that you're back there is one thing I forgot to add to that post, it's about another synchronicity that happened along the way.

A few days prior to leaving for my trip I visited Ryan Hurd's site DREAM STUDIES. The blog post that was up at the time was How To Survive The Corporate Culture of Sleep Deprivation and in it he included a video Occupy Sleep. I didn't have time to watch it at that moment so I kept it open in a tab. Over the next few days, every time I logged on Ryan would start talking, but I still didn't have time. The night before leaving on my road trip I tied up some loose ends. His video being one of them; I stopped and listened.

 In a nutshell - "Take a nap. Join the revolution."

The next day I'm driving to Gore Mountain. I haven't done too much distance driving and this trip will take me; Google maps says 6 hours but I figure closer to 8 hours accounting for time crossing the border, pit stops to pee (I have a squirrel bladder when I'm on the road), getting lost and finding my way back on track.

Making good time, I stop Clifton Springs to pee, grab an Americano, some cookies and a small packet of nuts. On my way to the entrance, no word of a lie... I see a licence plate that says NAP PAYS. Now, I have the wherewithal to text my sister who will find this amusing but I still don't clue in that my i-phone has a camera in it. Had I realized it at that moment I could have shared it with her, and you all too, but you'll just have to take my word for it.

Anyway, rather than sit in the coffee shop snacking and reading I took my stash back to the car because I figured the universe was telling me You'd better take that nap. Yup, Hurd was right. 10 minutes later I emerged bright eyed and bushy tailed, rarin' and ready to head out on my merry way into the unknown.

During the first gathering that night, surrounded by 30 plus very accomplished dreamers - many who have been returning to this place for 17 years, often 2 times a year - I realized I had indeed entered napping country for pays in French is the word for country.

We did many journeys over the weekend. If you dropped in you'd see people laying around under blankies with eye bags draped over their eyes or seemingly dozing in chairs. But the atmosphere was so charged with inspiration and energy that I had to take a few naps just to keep up - remember, at this time of year I'm emerging from a state of semi-hibernation. So, I must say thanks to Ryan for the great advice.

Participate in a revolutionary act...take a nap.

A WALK IN THE PARK

Would we do things differently if we realized that the earth is a living thing?

Walking at Burlington Beach strip yesterday I saw a plastic bag clinging to a bush. Since, before I got out of my car, I had made a pact to fill any bag I found with litter, I proceeded to do so, and then another and another...til 5 were filled. I had to put empty plastic bags into my collection bags as there were too many bags to fill during the time allotted for my walk.

I apologized to the ducks who lived there, that our species treats their home like a garbage dump.

Today I went to a local park. I started out with a bag from home in case I didn't find any empty plastic bags - fat chance of this happening - but you never know. I prefer to think of myself as an optimist.

So, I began here with my one bag and as was the case yesterday, I found many more to fill. 

The white bits aren't snow. They're plastic shopping bags.

4 bags filled in 45 minutes. I also filled 2 more on my way home - about a 2 minute walk from here.

At one point, as I crouched down pecking at the bits of plastic embedded in the earth I was joined by 2 curious geese who must have felt a bond with me. There we were all pecking along together.

As I went deeper into the bush I noticed that a man was eyeing me - probably thinks I'm a nut case or something. People do tend to give you a wide berth when you are a grey haired woman, dressed down for a mission. But he reappeared at the other side of the fence shortly afterwards.

"Thanks for doing this. You beat me to it. I usually clear out the stuff in the park in a few weeks time, when the snow has cleared and the weather is good. (It was a beautiful, sunny, unseasonable warm day today.) I live in the building just over there." he pointed to the condos down the way. "I think the garbage gets blown across the road over from the mall, the grocery store and Tim's. I've asked Tim's to clear the stuff from the parking lot but they put up signs asking people to clear their own garbage and be considerate, but obviously this isn't helping."

We chatted for a while about our efforts to tend the park and the areas around our homes.

I wish I could say that the extensive amount of garbage is from the mall but my experience down at the more remote park yesterday tells me otherwise. And, these are the places where we go to get in touch with nature and restore our souls. That's a fine thank you, eh?!

FACE BOOK CHALLENGE - Clutter clear a park, a sidewalk and post it on FB. Let's see if we can get a movement happening.

Shhh...be still

The flu and the weather conspired to keep me from physically going anywhere
but did not deter our little neighbour Leah :-)

I am an information junkie with a voracious appetite!

I like to learn; I gather information like a squirrel. But information isn't wisdom. So I test what I've learned by applying these lessons to my own life. Direct experience is the best teacher so you might say that I am my own laboratory. Only when truths are experienced and understood do I share them with students through the workshops I facilitate. However, for body work treatments (Shiatsu, reflexology, hot stone massage and lomi) that I provide, over time the wisdom is wordlessly, magically, seamlessly, integrated.

It is both a blessing and a curse that the internet is open 24/7 and my FaceBook friends post some pretty amazing and intellectually stimulating information. Through my FaceBook connections I find inspiring posts and positive news of what's going on in the world, or at least what could be going on if we would only look outside the box.

More and more e-mail my clients arrange appointments through e-mail. Advertising is a hands on affair that I maintain through e-mail and my website. I post entries on this blog for fun and on AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS to educate the public about dreamwork.

I am the thing that lives at the bottom of the stairs.

Fortunately for my physical health, my body has a huge need for movement and so I break away to do my yoga, go for a walk, fly, skate or kayak depending on the weather or perform some menial physical chore. But lately while engaged in these activities my mind is in overdrive. Instead of coming away refreshed I just feel busy, busy, busy.

I don't know when I slipped into multitasking as the order of the day. I watch some T.V. and do dishes or throw in a load of laundry during the, far too many and too lengthy, commercial breaks. I study Spanish or pour through hypnosis magazines during "brain candy" programs.

Restless by nature, the default of my brain and body is set for constant motion. With all this exposure to information, information itself feels like movement and incessant noise in my head.

After recording and working with my dreams, I consult the Voyage to Kanaka Makua cards each morning upon arising to ascertain the tone of the day. Over the past weeks the cards have been imploring me to return to meditation, listen to my breath, my heart, my body, be in the present, be still; NOW.

I have been paying heed and have cleared time and space to just sit and be. This has shown me that my senses have been bombarded with information to the point of overload and that my revved up brain is filled with a cacophony of urgent thoughts all clamouring for attention.

This is what silence feels like to me.
the woods at Mosswood Hollow

20 minutes of meditation a day isn't cutting it; I return to my old patterns for the rest of the day. More downsizing has been the remedy in the form of: increased visual, auditory and physical silence; decreased time on the computer and T.V. and more discriminate and limited use of my time on FB. More time for writing and reading books with actual pages.

It's so easy to get caught up in it all and in all my striving (striving for its own sake is another default state of mine) I have forgotten to just be.

Lengthier periods away from all this info/noise means, on my return, I'm greeted by an e-mail inbox spilling over with messages. Twitter and Linkedin kindly remind me that during my absence LOTS of interesting info has been zipping around cyber space that I absolutely must see. Important people everywhere are saying important things and since I probably don't want to miss any of it they kindly supply me with tid bits to tempt me to dive into the fray.

What are you missing?

Out from the silence I answer, "Nothing".

flu 1; modelling 0

...Make that I couldn't see myself rendered as a coughing, hacking, sniffling geezer. That would just be pathetic.

I came down with the flu, yup, the one that's running rampant throughout North America, on Fri the 4th. I was fighting it a few days prior and thought that I'd won the battle. I felt fabulous that morning and then WHAM I got blindsided that evening. 12 days later it's taking its own sweet time vacating the premises.

I was booked from 7  - 10p.m. for 4 Thursdays in a row for a sculpture class at the local art centre. I would be working with a fine instructor who I worked for regularly back in the day. Just to make sure I wouldn't get myself into a pose that I couldn't maintain, I've been exploring poses and transitions; checking stability, stress points, natural, dramatic and expressive movements.

I'd gotten myself psyched up for it.

I was sooo sure that I'd be clear by the 10th for my first modelling session in 15 years. But, willing didn't make it so. I cancelled at the last possible moment, a few days before the class, so that another model could be found. I've made it a rule NEVER to cancel unless ABSOLUTELY necessary. It felt like I was chickening out, until modelling night found me hacking up a lung, wrapped up in my blankie in my nice, cosy home. This was, in a weird way, some consolation, confirmation that I couldn't have done it.

But, I truly was disappointed.

Nance Thacker © 1984
Rule #1 - don't intimidate the artists

A model on the podium needs to project so that the artists can be moved by what they see and put that into their work. They want to be inspired and challenged. Each model moves and expresses the energy of their particular body type. I'm a small, compact mesomorph; my sessions are full of movement, energy and expression. Since there's no reference point for a body standing, sitting or lying on a podium and, since the artist's attention is focused on the model, the model seems larger than s/he really is. When I step away from the podium I'm always amused by the surprised looks I get when the artists realize I'm only 4'10" tall.

Though it isn't a requirement for an artists' model it is an asset that I can imagine a 360 degree view of each pose which assures that there are good angles and shapes for each artist. This ability to step outside one's body and view it remotely is a skill, a body awareness technique I learned from one of the instructional yoga books I used to teach myself yoga 43 years ago.

A variety of poses are done over the course of a session. Usually we begin short poses from 1 - 5 minutes long, poses which capture gesture. These I find the most fun as I move from pose to pose in one continuous moment isolated in freeze-frame time. Longer poses of 10 and 20 minutes follow which challenge the model to keep the energy up for the duration. When we settle into longer pose, relative comfort, balancing between the body's tendency to relax into the pose vs the desire to self-adjust into more comfort when the going gets tough, becomes an issue.

Sustained poses are broken up into 20 minute sessions with 5 to 10 minute breaks so that the artists can step away from the work and come back with fresh eyes and the model can get the circulation moving again and refresh. Before the model breaks the pose, key areas of contact - the heel of the foot and its angle, the placement of a hand - are marked with chalk on the podium, chair or whatever as reference points for  the model to find their place again. Getting back into the pose feels like slipping into a glove. I know I'm back in it when I've filled in the invisible energetic imprint that was left behind; it just "fits".

Modelling provides me with the opportunity to "sit in" on classes and to learn more about art and techniques. During a session music usually plays softly in the background and the atmosphere is pervaded with an undertone of peace that one gets when they are "in the zone" multiplied by the number of artists absorbed in their work.

I listen, I soak it in, I drift and dream and I monitor the energy flows coursing throughout my body to maintain a consistent level during each 20 minute segment. Modelling is a form of meditation; meditation in stillness and meditation in movement.

Prior to becoming a therapist, of all the jobs I'd had in my life at no time did I ever feel so appreciated for my work as when I modelled.

Oh well, that was 15 years ago. Whether an opportunity will come up again or not, time will tell. Til then I'll spend some time on the other side of the easel as I attend my first open life drawing sessions this coming Wednesday after a lengthy absence from the studio. And, I can assure you there will be no more appreciative artist than this former model.

Model Behaviour

ARTIST'S MODEL
Nance Thacker © Jan 6/13

I'm looking forward to entering into the world of the artists' model with anticipation and a great deal of fear.
From the age of 30 when I was "discovered" on an errand to a local art school to pick up a schedule for a roommate of mine, to the age of 45, I modelled for studios and art galleries in Victoria B.C., (including Xchanges Gallery where I had my studio) and later in Oakville (most notably for Sheridan College) and Burlington Ontario.
On that fateful day Catherine the great asked, "When you're on your run tomorrow can you pick me up the schedule for the classes at the Banks Street School of Art?"
Why not? I thought.
I was surprised when I stood in front of the registrar wearing my t-shirt and shorts to be asked if I'd like to model. I'd received my B.A. in fine art from McMaster and was very familiar with being on the other side of the easel, but to be there out front?...
I totally surprised myself when without hesitation I responded, "Sure".
And, I had a month to contemplate my decision meaning a time in which to back out of the assignment.
But I didn't and because of that I spent the next 15 years juggling my time as an artists' model amongst my other professions. 30 years ago, appearing fit and strong with good muscle definition, I was a natural, more importantly the moment I disrobed I felt totally natural standing on the podium.

SELF PORTRAIT
Nance Thacker © Jan 5/13

But 15 years have passed. It will not be the same as it was once was because I am not the same as I was. Can I still do it? I have committed myself to 1 night a week for 4 weeks from 7 - 10 p.m.  a time when I'm usually dozing on the couch before I get the second wind that keeps me up from 10 - 1 working on creative projects. Sleepiness at any time of the day in a cold room with heaters and spotlights blazing down on me is a model's challenge as are: sensations of things crawling on my skin and limbs falling asleep. True, in the past, dozing in a "relaxed" pose - I put it in quotes because no pose, no matter how relaxed it appears, is ever relaxing for the model but we make it look so - happened on occasion but I didn't snore back then. This would be mortifying.

Back in the day people asked me what I did on "fat" days, when I felt fat. "I just stand there looking fat and they draw what they see." It was no big deal to me. But, to be old? I don't really know if I'm ready to see myself rendered as a geezer.

Wish me luck.