Releasing the Outcome

Our first foray into Ontario cottage country was this past weekend. Unusual for us as we are usually get up to Temagami by mid June. We actually have yet to get to Temagami as this weekend was spent visiting with dear friends that we had not had the chance to see since returning to Ontario. It was the perfect weekend escape from the stinky hot weather too and I'm pretty sure more time was spent in the water than not!





Trying to broaden his water sport skills resume, Keir was a maniac out on the lake. He first tried knee boarding (mastering the 360 spin), and then upgraded to the wake board. Watching him work to figure out how to do it was a productive exercise for me. It was all the things I admire most about him- his optimistic outlook (face plant? No problem - he's up and ready to give it another go), his determination and perseverance, his playful spirit, his curiosity at the mechanics of breaking a skill down into the smaller components (and then working to master those smaller steps), and the joy in having an opportunity to try something challenging and new.




Watching him naturally made me consider how I tackle challenges. For certain, I am not consistent or methodical in my approach (though I'm not sure I need to be). Some challenges energize me to the point where tackling them feels like a treat not a chore (like learning how to wakeboard) whereas others feel more like endlessly writing lines out on a chalkboard.

Like tubing - I'll stick with the water metaphors here - I find tubing a bundle of anxiety. All tubing results in bruises for me. Although I can appreciate the feeling of zipping along the water, I am in constant anticipation of how much it will hurt (and I will hurt) when I get flipped over....and you always do get flipped!

That said, I wouldn't say that I'm the kind of person who is afraid to fall - or fail. Learning to kneeboard, waterski, wakeboard were all the process of 'try and then try try again' experiences for me, where falling was a fact of learning. Falling IS a fact of learning. However, there is something about tubing (perhaps the position of your body? the sheer speed that it feels that I feel that I am moving at?), that evokes a very primal "get me offa here" response. That is, though, EXACTLY what I have been working on practicing - being IN the experience - any experience - and really making the conscious effort to BE THERE IN IT. Yet all I can do with tubing is hope that it will be over soon.

Once through the experience, I can appreciate that I had it and that I pushed myself to do something that is outside my comfort level, but still, I always leave with bruises.

I fear that this "life reconstruction" path that we are so committed to is, at this point, bringing up a bit of that feeling in me. There is a larger part of me than I think I realize that would really like it all to be over soon. I fear that I am getting attached to the outcome (hopefully not at the expense of the process).

In times where that feeling dominates, I will remember to remind myself of Keir tackling that wake board.

With joy. With curiosity.
With love and openness.
I will continue to practice.
I will release the outcome.

Prince Edward County

We're itching to get back out on the road for a bit and Prince Edward County, Ontario is a place we've always wanted to check out.

Oh, and we bought a new house and we're dying to spend our first night in it:




It's a very cosy, sleek and modern design. Plus, we can easily relocate anywhere we need to...





Is it us, or does the new house look a bit like a cylon from Battlestar Galactica?

Only a few hours from where we're staying, the drive to the County is straight forward. It gives us some time to share our observations about being home, discuss future plans and reflect on the unfolding process of remaking our life. We decide on some small tweaks and changes. It is good to have time to talk through these things. Often it can feel like we are making no progress, but after talking and reflecting, we note we are indeed making small, incremental progress. We uncover tiny signs, little coincidences that point to a building flow. Patience is required — patience, a little faith and vigilance as we remain alert to opportunities as they may arise.

We jump off the highway at Trenton with military planes zooming above us and take, 33 — Loyalist Parkway south down towards Lake Ontario. It's pretty country — flat, green and vibrant consisting mostly of small farms. We stop in the charmer known as Wellington in hopes of catching lunch at the Main and East Bistro which gets rave reviews. Much to our surprise, it's closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. We wander down main street a little further and uncover The Red Poppy Cafe which has swooped up all the bistro business this day. It's bustling. We are able to snag a table and share a few delicious dishes — watermelon, tomato and mint soup, goat's cheese and sun dried tomato quiche and veggie samosas with home-made peach chutney. While we eat, it starts to rain down buckets outside, but it's sunny again by the time we leave.

We drive on to the main town of Picton, passing through the little village of Bloomington. We make a note to stop off when heading back. Picton hosts the Prince Edward County tourist centre where we pick up information on the art and wine tours. We also ask them about campsites and get a couple of recommendations.

The main draw in Prince Edward County is Sandbanks Provincial Park which sports a very long sandy strip, perfect for summer beach goers. There are also campsites in the park, but we are advised that obtaining one may be tricky in mid summer. We opt to try our luck at a private campsite called Log Cabin Point, about 15 K outside of Picton and just on the outskirts of Sandbanks Park. Fate seems to be smiling on us. They have one site left. It's a small campground, aimed more at the RV and trailer home crowd, but they have a few tent sites and they're right on the East Lake which makes for a nice view.




Our accommodation secured for the evening, we spend the afternoon cruising about the more eastern part of the PEC region. We visit the Long Dog Winery and sample their county grapes Pinot and Chardonnay. We hit the town of Milford and the Milford Bistro and then stop at the Little Bluffs Conservation Area and hike down to the beach and do the top walk along the bluffs. For dinner, we head back to Picton for a veggie Buddha Dog, but it too is closed. We don't have much luck with our chosen restaurants.











We look at the menus of some other places, but overall, Picton leaves us feeling underwhelmed. It seems to be struggling through an identity crisis — set up for the beach crowds who filter in after a day on the water but also trying to accommodate the growing B&B/wine and arts crowd.

After a bit of driving around, we settle for a pint and light dinner at The Barley Room Pub. It's adequate. It leaves us time to head back to our campsite, to set up the new home (in about five minutes) and then stroll over to the beach to catch the sunset.











We have a restful night in our new tent. Being the middle of the week, the campsite is quiet except for a few creatures (or people?) toppling garbage cans in the middle of the night.

The morning is ideal for a quick wake up swim and then we're back on the road. We grab an egg breakfast at Chesterfield's Homegrown Cafe in Picton and then head back to the western part of the county and the small towns of Bloomington and Wellington. We make some stops and browse the shops. Then it's on to the wineries on our list, most of which are located along the Loyalist Parkway. Two of our favourites doing really nice Chardonnays are Rosehill Run and Closson Chase.

Good Intentions

Being part of the world and making a conscious effort to contribute to its improvement — that is the driving force for both Jenn and I as we look for new work opportunities and decide where we want to travel to next.

We want to be surrounded by water and hiking trails. We want access to fresh produce and organic food and to be active members of an arts community.

The first leg of our journey through New Zealand, Argentina and other places has reminded us who we are and what it is we truly want. Now we are watching closely for the opportunities to bring more of this into our lives. And we are also doing research on places, people and organizations where the work and mission match with those values.

We will let that be the focus of where we go next. Our goal is to spend more time traveling with the intention of finding a place to happen and visiting places where we’ve discovered people and organizations already making a conscious effort to contribute to the improvement of the world. Once there, we hope to work with them in an effort to learn more.

This route is not an easy process. There are days when we are overwhelmed with doubt and want to jump at the first job advertisements we see. But we are following a seldom travelled route and we are determined to see it through. It requires patience and constant alertness for arising opportunities. It requires an unwavering conviction that it will all be okay.

There is a place for us out there. And it will all be okay.

The Home Again Update

After two solid weeks of our Purge Parasitis medication, we are beginning to feel better and ready to digest more — literally and figuratively.

We both have mixed feelings about being back in Canada. I am very happy to see and spend times with our families, our Itty cat and our friends. I am not so happy to be here in Southern Ontario. Both Jenn and I feel claustrophobic. Our ocean views, our mountain tops and the expansive never ending terrains have disappeared leaving us feeling sludgy—uninspired and unmotivated.

After traveling to so many beautiful places, you begin to realize how much setting affects your life story. It is important to put yourself in a place that is conducive to bringing out your best self. Along the north west coast of California, in the lakes and mountains of Patagonia, Tasmania’s Tasman Peninsula or the Marlborough Sounds of South Island New Zealand, I felt most at home, most content. The land’s energy, the vistas and the people brought out my best. We are in love with vast water, with rocky shorelines and moss covered rain forests. With that around us, everything is possible.

I was talking with my friend Torin the other day about the nature of travel. He feels it should be mandatory that every eighteen year old take a year off from their schooling and travel the world. “When you’re eighteen, you think you know everything and after traveling for a bit, you quickly realize you don’t. There’s so much more to learn.”

I added that it should also be mandatory when you’re 40 to take a year off and travel. “Because at that point, you have so much to unlearn.”

That was a theme for us on this journey. There was plenty of learning, but underneath we were unlearning much of the stuff we’d accumulated, in my case, over the past twenty years. There is something about giving up your house, packing up all your belongings into boxes and hitting the road for a long stretch of time with a bag, passport and a travel points credit card that makes you rethink just what is truly important.

What is important in life. And what is important in you.

I feel I found myself again during this trip, rediscovered who I am and while doing so, threw off a lot of accumulated baggage. I am grateful for that opportunity. Our trip reminded us how fun, how liberating and FULL life can be. It gave us the conviction to say, ‘No compromises. From here on in, we’re going for that — meaningful interactions and experiences. Learning and growth. Being part of the world and making a conscious effort to contribute to its improvement.

It reminded us that life does not fall apart if you stop doing something and move on to something else. Transition is possible. You can switch up everything and head out in a different direction

Never fear. Life goes on just fine.

It reminded us how little we require to live. We were at our most happy and content in our little camper, motoring about New Zealand. Good organic food. A campsite to spend the night. Diesel every third day and a promising bottle of wine and book. We needed little else. The small amount of clothes we had in our bags were absolutely adequate.

It also reminded me how much I love and like Jenn and how fortunate I am to have her as my partner. We spent pretty much the entire five and half months together and never once did it cross my mind that some alone time was needed (however, driving along the Oregon coast got a bit dicey once those parasites took hold...) Not only did I rediscover myself, but we rediscovered each other and the formidable team we are together.

Traveling also reminded us of the sheer number of stories and experiences in the world. We conversed with so many people during our trip with the explicit intention to collect tales from as many folk as possible about the different directions life takes. We were pleasantly surprised at how easily we made new friends and were reminded time and time again of the basic goodness and generosity of people.

We were hoping that along the way that we’d uncover a new opportunity, that maybe a sense of what comes next in our life would emerge — a job or merely somewhere to put our energies to work. That never came, except for a very kind offer to house sit in Fiji which we may still follow up on. We are working now on manifesting a new plan with the hopes that opportunities will indeed bubble forth (... so... if you have any great ideas or connections please do consider sharing!).

Traveling creates a steady flow of daily events and people for you to discover and explore. It is constant incoming data to sift through and find meaning. I miss that already. You lose that stream when you stop and hole up somewhere. Already, the urge to get back on the road is there for both of us. There is still unfinished business, more ground clearing for another shift as we continue to re-imagine and restructure our lives.