Solstice on the Pacific

I am swept up in an increasingly strong compulsion to be one with this earth… whatever that means. This morning I woke up during the time of day where you can only see the brightest stars, where the silhouettes of the trees against the slowly brightening sky become a little clearer, and the orchestra of light brings colour back into the world. I lay there on my back, listening to the mixture of the deep breath from my friends, the wakening birds, and the myriad of sounds from the wind on the waves, in the trees and across our sleeping bags… I felt present.

Last week one of my oldest girl friends asked me to join her, her boyfriend and their friends on a paddling trip they had planned to one of our local islands to celebrate the summer solstice.

     It was a perfect way to welcome the summer, and even better that we got to enjoy sunset on a secluded beach on a tiny island an hour’s paddle away. Please note: I haven’t been in a sea kayak in the last ten years or so, but I felt totally at ease cruising over the currents moving through the archipelago with my much more skilled friends.

Coming around an island after our first against-current stretch the gentle dripping and turning of my paddle in the water lulled me into somewhat of a trance. What was the significance of this? Why does this solstice feel different?

At this same time last year I had just arrived in France after spending three days participating in an ayahuasca ceremony that I had hoped would help me dig deeper into the roots of my ever-darkening depression, which it certainly did. It had felt like a huge 10-year repetitive cycle in my life had been completed when I stepped into my friends home in Haute-Savoie two days later; yet the work that started when I decided to take on and purge the baggage I had carried around since childhood only now stands clear as day in front of me. As I lay on my back looking up at the trees this morning I watched the graceful rise and fall of each branch, listened to the eagles call, and understood: this solstice marks the beginning of a new cycle after the transitional limbo period that I have been in for the past year.

Its these small moments of contemplation and presence that help me realize I’m on the right path – that the chronic depression that I’ve struggled with since birth will not win.

We stayed just one night in our various open air sleeping bags, tents and hammocks on a small deserted island, staying up late enjoying the fire, each other, and the bioluminescence. Our goal was to be on the water for sunrise, so I don’t know how much sleep I actually got – regardless the vibrancy of the evening together and of what was about to greet us on the water would energize our bodies and minds better than a full 8-hours of rest ever could.

        

        

It took us about an hour and 20 minutes to get back to the harbour we set out from, with lots of time to spare before we each headed to our various Thursday morning jobs …A part of me wanted to end that sentence with something like “back into reality” or “our normal lives”, but THIS is my new normal, and it feels amazing. Winter hiking, solo trips on the Cowichan or the Gordon, bush-wacking through to beautiful pools, paddling in light that illuminates your soul, sitting at my desk charting, and treating students in the school clinic: this is all reality, and no one thing is any less real or important than the other.

Being present — this is where the core of my healing is currently coming from. After ten years of teaching yoga you would have thought I could have caught on to that subtlety, but I have had to shed layer after layer of debris before that could sink in. Much of the work I’ve done lately has been around Gabor Maté’s teachings on Compassionate Inquiry. Over the last three weeks I’ve spent days listening to and watching Gabor at his recent conference here in Victoria. His teachings have facilitated a crucial turn in my mental health and I would encourage anyone who is struggling to watch them. At the end of the month I’m going back to do another ayahuasca ceremony to further my understanding of where this sickness and disease comes from and to do the necessary deeper healing work, because I know I’m not quite out of the woods yet.

Today I am thankful for this celebration of light, for the new and old connections that are forming and reforming, and for the incredible group of colleagues who have helped me through the sickest parts of this past few months. If the last few years have taught me one thing it is that dealing with mental health is impossible to do on your own. So, thank you.

Here’s too many more adventures to come — hopefully I will keep writing a little more consistently about them, but I may not as thats usually the first to go when I am unwell.

I hope you all enjoy the beautiful summer weather, and keep doing the healing work, there is nothing more important.

Love,

Molly

P.s. If you would like to connect at Monday Night meditation let me know through my contact page, the next one is Monday, June 25th from 7:15-8:15.

 

I traded contact for meditation

roses for flys

let go of the destination

and gave up on the lies

Inhaling the fluorescence of presence

the current of life

the glowing droplets of colour

the aura of a pacific night