the arriving...

"we learn by going where we have to go,
we arrive when we find ourselves on the road walking towards us"

a new friend lent me The Art of Pilgrimage before i left on my freedom 35 trip. he had understood quickly what this journey was about... and i opened it again just last week, a little while after arriving back here in canada.

there is not just one arrival, i read. and it is true.

there is the corporeal arrival and welcome home. and there are the sundry adaptations to this new yet deeply familiar environment. the arrivals of the new self in the old place, new in subtle ways and new because you yourself are new....

canada welcomed me with the glow of summer weather, and my friends with a canoe trip and big hugs of stories and smiles. my family met at the cottage for a celebration of birthdays, new life (welcome to the world Roslyn Fancott!), the sweetness of water, sun and delicious food, and unconditional love.

as the glow of summer led to the changing light of autumn, i realized i was a whole new landscape. i had assumed that i had let go of all i needed to let go of, that my trip had given me the space to go through the hard and the lovely stuff of change, but alas, the coming back offered a whole new set of hard and lovelies. and even though i have gone through this kind of re-entry from potent, transformational excursions abroad, i had not at all anticipated that this one would be difficult. hadn't i gone through all that ON the trip, didn't i just have to BE all that i had become, here and now?

so i arrive where i started and am coming to know the place for the first time...

my mother. she had been present to me so often on my trip; she came to me strongly when i was in meditation and when thinking about healing. mother-daughter. she is in me and i in her and so our journeys and our healing are connected. one afternoon after coming home, we were lying on the couch, and i told her with choking throat that she had been with me in this way. and now she is diagnosed with a lump in her breast. i offer myself but in order for me to help, i say, you need to first identify what you need, and then you need to ask for help. this is a radical - for her to do this and for me to be talking to her in this way. this is my initiation into adulthood. this is our new family project - we have entered a whole new landscape.

my health. shouldn't everything be perfect after sun and fruit and yoga? after TIME spent in a new way, exploring, and letting go? My hair is long and bright, the tropical sun has kissed my body, but my insides are freaking out. i see a naturopath and hear: estrogen too low, heavy metals high, kidney qi and digestive fire practically out, circulation poor, adrenals exhausted, and all that that means and how it all manifests physically, psychologically.... it is time for another major transition and while my body adjusts and re-adjusts i sigh. i am not to fight this, or blame or hide, this is just simply what it is. my tan fades, my body blurbs and bleeds and rebounds, and I try to simply celebrate its achievements and lessons.

purpose and place – and the potential lives that await for my arrival. is it in toronto, or montreal or elsewhere? I need a room of my own, with a view, and sunlight and space to practice "stillness in mid-city". I find a sweet apt on esplanade and bernard in montreal, only after the elephant in the room that was my mother’s operation goes smoothly.

i let go of the perception i have of other people’s expectations of me (“so what BIG project are you working on now?”) and let myself swivel into a rhythm of conversation, writing, exploration, and threading together the pieces and themes that reveal themselves. there is time for loving the city, the Reid family Barn (for which i am thankful on thanksgiving), the light touches of friends, family and seasons and the wonderful circumstance of collaborating with myokyo, at the zen centre de la main… inviting me to practice my practice, live my vocation, experiment with how I can express myself through work and purpose and see where it all leads…

because the art of pilgrimage is the craft of taking time seriously, elegantly.