The full moon crested the ridge, as clouds parted, at the end of an amazing evening of music along the French Broad River. I caught glimpses of the total lunar eclipse as I made my way home. An hour and forty-minute drive through the Pisgah National Forest, the rolling hills of Waynesville and finally, toward the Smoky Mountains…where I live, move, and have my being.
That was Sunday night with Grayson Capps and Corky Hughes. Saturday night in Asheville, I witnessed the magic of Will Kimbrough. All three are favorite musicians that are dear to my heart and they live or originated on the Alabama coast. I hadn’t seen them since moving here two and a half years ago. I hadn’t seen any live music during that time because of…you know, the plague.
When I moved from the Gulf Coast, back to the mountains, it had been an insane time of real estate deals falling through at the last moment (my entire house was packed) and then a miraculous deal that pushed everything into ‘go.’ The stress between the two was probably the worst in my life. So when I finally moved, there was a shattering that had taken place.
I realized last night, while surrounded by massive trees and the river and music that echoed from that time to now, that these three friends were bringing back a part of myself that simply hadn’t arrived with the relocation. Will started the delivery on Saturday and Grayson and Corky brought her home.
The other thing I realized last night is how much Nature has opened my heart during these many months spent wading, hiking and communing with rocks, creeks, trees, flowers, and the energies that reside here. Many internal barriers have been laid down as I have expanded and grown clearer, more open.
Thanks to Will, Grayson and Corky for bringing back the part of myself that got left behind on the Gulf Coast. It was time….how wild that they all showed up in the same weekend. I’m so grateful to my soul friends for providing the way.
I arrived home as the eclipse peaked. I think that’s no coincidence.
After 65 fishing days in the first year of fly fishing, I decided to try some higher performance equipment. Not to catch more fish, but to take myself to another level of skill. Or maybe because I am a gear nerd. A total gear nerd. Fly fishing, cave diving, mountain biking…a total geek about gear. I love activities that use specialized gear.
I’ve been thinking about the upgrade for a while. I haven’t traveled anywhere in almost three years, except to visit my daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter, so my travel budget has been invested in a pastime I enjoy weekly, instead of once a year….or once every three years. (Yes, I realize I am justifying the investment).
After many weeks of pondering and asking advice and reading, I headed over to my favorite fly fishing shop in Townsend, Tennessee, and tried out several rods. It seemed the high-performance rods accentuated, magnified, highlighted all my bad casting habits. It was a bit embarrassing. But Dave, one of my favorite mentors at the store, worked with me and really helped me develop better muscle memory of the right skills. It felt like starting over.
As we stood in the bright sun in a grassy area behind the shop, I cast horribly. Dave gently offered correction. It reminded me how in life we learn unhelpful habits and have to revisit the basics of effective living to mend those habits, so our lives move on a better trajectory.
Each time the line unfurled behind me in a straight line, I saw how subtle and correct movements of my body made that happen. As we refine our behaviors and thoughts, our lives can move into greater alignment with our Path of Heart. The adjustments we make may be small, but they can have major, positive change in effective living.
I took the new setup to an area not far from the shop, in the national park. An open area…easy to wade. Casting new gear where I usually fish–small, tight creeks lined with rhododendron–felt like inevitable disaster, thus the reason for choosing the open area. I needed more space.
I saw how my old habits are going to be difficult to break, yet the coaching had taken root and I began to implement Dave’s suggestions with some pretty sweet success. But only in terms of casting, not catching fish. Small trout played with the dry flies and one cast had four little rainbows chasing the fly as I retrieved the line. As I stood in the water, some nice-sized trout came toward me and found safety near my wading boots. I’m happy they feel so cuddly towards me, but it doesn’t say much for the dry flies I was casting.
By giving myself space, I was able to correct old, ineffective habits and begin to build skills that will better serve me. I can’t think of a better metaphor for life.
After an hour and fifteen minutes, I decided to switch to a nymph, or underwater fly. Just as I got the fly tied on, but before I clipped the tag end of tippet, thunder boomed. The heavy, dark clouds I’d been watching, started to create safety concerns.
I reluctantly retreated to the car and after stowing all the gear, the rain began to move through in sheets. I will fish all day in the rain, but lightning is my cue to find shelter. Plus, the major highway across the gap in the national park often closes when bad weather moves through. I didn’t want to have to do a long drive-around should that happen.
Several years ago, I was at a yoga retreat in Ireland. I walked many miles, over the time I was there, in the rain, wind, and cold. The retreat leader commented that I was so prepared and had figured out the gear I needed for any condition. If you have the right gear, it supports the outdoor experience–hiking, cycling, fishing, paddling. Maybe my being a gear nerd simply reflects the ability to support myself in what I want out of life….growing into a clearer expression of love and kindness.
I don’t see fly fishing and my personal growth and development as separate. The same goes for hiking, cycling, stand-up paddleboarding, nature photography. These experiences are simply part of the way I expand and work through blocks to living fully, to allowing the Medicine that wants to flow through me to have a clearer channel to do so. Nature is my best teacher and healer.
A friend of mine recently commented that whatever I do, I aim to do it professionally and with perfection. I thought it was a helpful observation and one I’d never considered. But then I remembered my first time in the pool during scuba lessons when I knew I’d become a scuba instructor…and I did become one. Since then, I’ve learned I don’t have to reach that level of professionalism to excel and enjoy a sport or activity. But it does explain my tendency to be a gear nerd. And my love of having the right tools to do a good job whether they are outdoor gear tools or inner tools and skills I develop to live more effectively.
Many thanks to my mentors at Little River Outfitters for always being supportive and welcoming and to Dave for braving the wilds of the grasslands and my backcast to offer some really great coaching. You can’t get that from ordering online or visiting a store that wants to charge you for casting coaching. That’s why it’s worth the drive across the gap, through the peaks, and worth the frustration of getting behind super-slow-driving tourists.
Filled with beauty, I didn’t think I could receive any more. Yet a short distance up the trail, more cascading pools of crystal-clear, cold water greeted me. I stopped to gaze into the bubbling, churning whitewater as it leaped over moss-covered boulders. WOW, I exclaimed out loud. WOW!
A few weeks ago, the same area created the need to open myself more—to expand—to be able to take in the outrageous beauty. Like then, I stood there today laughing hysterically, tears forming in my eyes, and felt drunk on beauty, inebriated on the pure energy of this sacred place. I felt my body staggering as if under the influence of some potent cocktail; instead, my body, mind and spirit—my entire being—was in flow and balance with Nature, with all life. Completely at One.
The first part of the trail does not affect me like this. It is beautiful and wonderful there, but energetically it’s not as pure. It’s two miles up the trail when the real shift occurs. Fewer humans venture past that place so Nature is less tinkered with, abused or interfered with the farther up the trail one goes.
There are places that I call Fairy Lands after about three miles. Tiny, white flowers carpeted the forest floor today as random boulders sat stoically among massive trees. The wind tossed the tops of trees and further up the ridge, a sort of roaring, rushing sound of wind through tree limbs created a stereo effect with the music of the creek.
The rare humans one meets up there are different than those that venture only a mile or so in and then turn back, having seen enough of Nature. Those that go further and commit to experiencing Nature are changed by visiting this special place.
I was surprised today when I had such a strong reaction. I expected the awe was used up when I visited it the first time. I thought it would be pleasant and beautiful; however, I did not guess that I would go through the same feelings I did before—discomfort that I couldn’t open big enough to take it in. Yet, as I listened carefully to inner guidance, I heard: Open your heart, breathe in what you see. When I practiced that guidance, a huge shift happened within and I experienced the inebriation of Oneness, of beauty, of the pristine energies of Nature that pushed me into a state of Divine Madness.
After a very rough few days, I decided to walk along the river and then up the closed parkway. Focusing on breathing in, breathing out I was able to come into presence with my self, the water, trees, rocks and sky. By the time I reached the parkway, I was settled down enough to get clear on what I wanted to know.
As I walked up the deserted parkway, I said out loud, “What do you want?” I repeated it as I walked, reflecting on my life’s path but asking the mountains, the Earth. Thinking about drawing early retirement funds does that I suppose. I’ve always put my soul path, my heart’s path, before financial security, so large questions loom as I contemplate the rest of my life. And the work I want to accomplish, the legacy I want to leave behind.
“What do you want?” What do you want of me?” “Why am I here?” (The little here as in geographical and the big here as in alive on the planet right now). “I’ve followed a soul path, a path of heart and given all I know to give of myself….what do you want?” Yesterday, I had reached a breaking point.
I poured a deep desire to know, so that I may serve, into the questions. I got to a beautiful overlook, the mountains standing strong and tall in the distance. I asked again, “WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME? WHY AM I HERE?”
Then I shut up and stood there gazing into the mist, the leaf-bare mountains staring back at me. Finally, I heard as clear as someone standing next to me, “I’m calling my children home.”
I burst into tears as recognition flooded my awareness. I said, “Yes, I know. I’m here. I’m listening.”
Tears continued to slide down my face as I walked. I wiped a tear with my finger and gave it to the Earth. Every cell of my body, every breath, belongs to Earth.
No other answers came but it’s enough to know I was called Home. I await further guidance.
This rock looked like a skull to me. What would it ‘say’ if it could speak?
The path of the Soul leads us ever onward to a clearer expression of our true Self. That sounds wonderful, but the journey involves stripping away everything that isn’t who we are…in our truest expression of that spark of Cosmic Light.
In other words, it can be crazy-difficult to become real.
Thankfully, we don’t walk the path alone. When we pause, breathe, and gaze into the face of the Unknown, we begin to see allies, helpers. My greatest allies and teachers are found in Nature. Trees, wild creatures, rocks…entire ecosystems speak to me, calm me, and help me feel less alone. Yours might be human friends or music. We all have allies and sometimes it takes a little work to find them…or let them find us. Sometimes it’s as simple as saying, “I need help!”
Almost every day, I spend time listening and allowing guidance to arise. It helps me navigate this intense time of change. Most of us are challenged with the long-term stress event caused from a tiny virus, but that’s just one expression of the many changes happening with this beautiful planetary evolution taking place-an evolution I consider to be of deep spiritual healing for our planet and all Her beings. But let’s face it, growth is rarely easy because it involves releasing that which no longer serves us…even if it has been a big part of our lives.
It could be a person we release, an old version of our self we say goodbye to, an old habit that is holding us back. Evolving might involve a move to a new place geographically or simply a new place within our own skin.
I wrote a few weeks ago about a large rock in the middle of a creek teaching me to stay present with myself. That teaching has taken root and expanded. Last week, a week of truly hellish pressure from many parts of my life, I kept hearing, ‘stay with yourself.’ As external events unfolded, I found myself in the future or the past and that inner voice would come alive….‘stay with yourself.’
When we allow our minds to race into the future or stay stuck in the past, we totally abandon our self in the present moment. My experience was like being a child in a really scary place and having the adults rush ahead or backwards to tend to random events while leaving me alone and afraid. ‘Stay with yourself,’ I kept hearing. ‘Stay with yourself.’
When I can breathe in this moment and be aware that I am breathing, I become master of my life in that moment. Thich Nhat Hanh reminded us of that truth. So, my goal is simple: breathe in and know that I am breathing in. I practice this on my walks in Nature these days and it makes all the difference. I’m not running in fear to the future or the past. I’m just ‘breathing my body,’ recognizing the beauty of the trees or the river, the otter or elk or rock…or this life form known as Simone.
True transformation is wildly supported as we learn to stay with our self.
