SILENCE

She had spent many years looking outward for answers. Friends, trying to help, told her, "It isn't in books, it's in you." In her twenties, she heard the words, but did not understand.

She remembers walking down Granville Street when she was twenty-seven, looking out with sad eyes from her painful inner prison, and a man passing by in the street smiling at her, saying, "You just have to get over that mountain. Just get over that mountain." His look was so kind, so understanding, she still remembered him all these years later.Even books said, "It isnt in books, it's in you." She had read many books, hundreds, about the spiritual journey. In her bed late at night, she trekked the Himalayas, completed the pilgrimage along The Camino, followed the path with heart. Life is our greatest teacher, so eventually it all began to make sense.

She had always been on this journey, but now she knew she was on the journey. She began to trust herself and the universe, to follow her heart and her inner voice, take the scary leap into the unknown, trusting "either there would be ground to stand upon, or she would be given wings to fly." Her forties were a healing decade, when she stopped running from and came home to herself. Then finally, finally, she flew.

It was the biggest trusting she had ever done. But her inner voice told her it was now or never. Her dream was to live on the wild west coast. If she didnt go now, she never would, she would have to give up her dream. And she knew she couldnt live without a dream. She left behind a hard-earned promotion, good salary and long-awaited "security", to move to Tofino, for twenty years her dream; she now, finally, brave enough to make the terrifying leap, the biggest trusting she had ever done. It was here she learned the only true security is what we carry within, here she released her fear of tomorrow in order to more truly savor the goodness of today.

Here where she found her home, the home of her spirit, within the forest and along the ocean's shore.

All her life she had sought peace and now it came to live inside her, spreading out in that vast interior silence where there were no words, no thoughts, no worries. It lay beneath the daily ups and downs of those around her, so she sailed serenely past, compassionate and caring, but holding fast to her hard-won inner sanctuary, to her peace, to her joy.

She had always been a lover of the sky, the forest, the wild places. And here, surrounded by beauty, she was so consciously grateful for it all. Her life was one long "Thank You", that ran through her days, a counterpoint to the distracted busy world around her. Thank You for the sky, for the brilliance of sunshine on fresh green leaves, for the eagle's flight, for the tiniest intricate bouncy patch of moss upon the forest's floor.

Joy was her companion as she walked along the beach, the sursurration of waves washing over her spirit as balm, smoothing away any concerns that had been trying to hitch a ride.

Her eyes feasted ecstatically upon islands, herons, old-growth forest, frothing white caps crashing over rocks, the dip of the eagle's wing. Lone Cone staunchly guarded the friendly harbour, blushing a deep rose all along the ample bosom of Meares Island, as the sun fell upon it at the close of day. She lived in contented self-sufficient silence for ten glorious years, needing, wanting nothing more than nature's bounty, splendiferous around her, so rich and various, free for the taking, whether human eye was there to appreciate it or not. So much life!

She watched others chattering, talking, sparking ideas off each other, laughing raucously, needing to mark their presence with sound, and she smiled, needing no words, content to simply Be, to look about feeling a deep-seated harmony, a kinship with all beings dwelling in this power spot, her spirit come home at last to its right place.

There were times she recognized that she had created a sometimes lonely exile; times she longed for what others had, a partner to share the wonder of the journey. At the end of ten years of self-imposed exile, she opened herself to the universe once more, ready to accept the change that she felt coming.

The change was illness, inability to work, and she was forced to leave her h0me, her place in the world, to move to a more affordable town inland, away from the smell and sound of the sea that she needed, she needed, to be happy.

The universe set her the task of losing what she most loved. She rolled up her sleeves. She made a home and a life, once again; she learned to be happy where she was. But her heart longed every moment for the sea and there wasnt a day she didnt miss it.

Then she thought she had found the love she had sought forever. Her formerly withheld heart blossomed, opening farther than it ever had before. The white knight turned out to be play-acting; the romance she had believed was real turned out to be a farce. When it ended, she knew her heart was finally whole. She had been brave enough to risk, had loved and lost, once again emerging strong and whole and ready to move on. The worst had happened, and she had made it through. Traveler, there is no path. The Way is the path.

Now here she is, poet, star dreamer, inner voyager, moving through her days one by one, opening each like a Christmas package all unknown, under the shiny wrapping a wealth of smiles and unexpected tears, of shining moments of sudden grace, strung like winking stars across a canopy of midnight sky.

She knows all about 'the silence from which all music comes.' It is her dearest friend. Out of that vast silence, that knowingness, has grown the full authenticity of who she is, at home within the universe and her Self. Through it, the beautiful symphony of life plays like a mellow clarinet on a summer afternoon, warm and golden, counterpoint to the full brass band of daily experience, all inter-woven and living mellifluously together in her heart.