Moving On

This is the last day of moving. We are staying at a motel on the Beach in Parksville...a town a short distance from Qualicum Beach; the movers came and packed up the house...including our bed...and here we are. Cleaning the fridge is the last thing to do today.

I am using the new laptop. It takes a little concentration, a commodity very short on supply, after moving, packing, and generally feeling displaced all around. There are settings I am unfamiliar with...and when I am tired or anxious, learning about a new tool can make me frustrated.

Actually, if I was to tell the absolute truth, everything right now makes me frustrated.

It seems fitting to me to stay directly on the beach. The Waves whispered to me throughout the night, giving me reassurance the Ocean will always be. I took some solitary time this evening, letting Wind and Rain and the pounding of the Waves take the tension, sadness and tears...all the convoluted emotions with which I am filled...and replace my vessel of emotional detritus with joy and adventurous outlooks.

There are so many changes. Nate is leaving Lucky, Graham and I and will take up residence with Scott, Graham's son. Nate is really his dog; I understood this well when Nate lived with us for the last five years. However, I am filled with sadness and trepidation for Lucky, who will not understand why he is staying by himself in a new kennel.

An amazing thing happened, however, when we dropped the Luckster off, after his first really long car ride, to which he adapted well. Lucky is not used to cats; the only time he has ever had contact with a cat was when he chased one out of the backyard. And yet, as Lucky came in the door of the new kennel, an old cat immediately started schmoozing with him...and Lucky accepted his sympathy and friendship, with nary a growl or a bark.

Lucky has a great attachment to soft, fuzzy stuffed toys; I could sense the immediate love affair struck between the pair of them.

It is looking more and more as if the newest member of our family will be a Cat...finally.

We arrived in Williams Lake, after an uneventful trip. Hardly any snow remains here in the Cariboo; only the hardpacked, gravelly piles linger. And the grass, shrubs and other plants give hints of the glories to come, but at the moment, they look as if their green souls have leached out of them, hiding deep in the greyish black exterior or in the root of the plants.

I understand completely.

The last two months have been a Whirlwind...a Hurricane who swept my former life clean...down to the deepest parts of my Soul. It has not been pleasant, for the most part...yet there was a force driving me towards this move I did not understand. During times of grief and tension, I would notice the signs from Creator.

And in my deepest mourning, I shouted to Creator...You are sending me platitudes! I am tired of platitudes! That amazing Rainbow that just now has suddenly appeared...You know what you can do with that Rainbow!?

Creator let me vent. And then channelled my anger into creativity...I took the camera and used it as if it were a sword...I took the photos of the Rainbow and the following Sunset, the Eagles and the Sea Lions. On and On, until I was spent, with anger at the beginning for a companion and perception following...and finally acceptance, not complete...but further along the strange path I am suddenly following.

If I remembered to ask for help from Creator, during this move, if I placed a problem in Spirit's hands, then the situation resolved itself. Every time. I might not have enjoyed the process; quite often, in fact, the opposite was true. But the source of tension for which I had asked for aid worked out.

So. Here I am, living in the Cariboo. My address will actually be in 150 Mile House, one of the Roadhouse settlements, this one seven miles from the City of Williams Lake. At the moment, I am still in a Motel.

My new home is not old...a direct contrast to the home in Qualicum Beach. It is an eleven year old Rancher, with a large deck overlooking three acres of Forest. I will be living in the middle of a Forest once again. I have not seen the actual land; it still had two or more feet of Snow the only time I saw the house.

I understand the property slopes, with benches or flat areas. I sense it will be pretty, although we will have to build a driveway and sidewalks. There is no landscaping, although I believe the owner planted fields of wildflowers here and there.

But there are many, many different species of Trees, conifer and deciduous. There are many wild berries and fruits. And there is a wildlife Trail that bisects our land...it is not unusual for Moose, Elk, Bear, Cougars, etc. to use it often...the Land behind our parcel is Crown Land, deeply Forested. It is their habitat.

The house has a huge Deck, upon which Lucky and I and our unknown-as-yet Cat, will watch the Trail, in safety and in awe.

We plan to move the kitchen and replace the flooring, with hardwood. The house is big and open, with a good well and septic system. It has white vinyl siding, the preferred choice in the Northern Regions because it stands up well to the extremes in temperature.

And a Victorian Red Duroid Roof...when I googled the land on Google Earth, it was not difficult to pick out the Red Roof.

Here, now, in the Cariboo, Snow is melting. Even the Snow we received the other night is mostly gone. And soon, I will tramp the land where I will live, taking note of areas where one of Grandfather Tree's offspring might flourish. Where will my Lilac garden be? And the Pussy Willow...will I find Pussy Willow in this new Forest?

And which small field will the Wildflowers claim for their own? There is, apparently, a higher Bench of Land, from which the whole Valley can be seen.

It will be a time of discovery, the month of April this year. And March, the month of Mars, will be filled with choosing new furniture and appliances, searching out Plumbers and Electricians, finding just the right cabinets for the new kitchen, and choosing the perfect new floor.

It will be a time of anticipation and of homesickness. March will be an in-between month, a month where I will feel out of place. And still, with as many decisions as we have made in the last three month, and even with that final meltdown of mine...the way has been paved; the hills and corners turn out not to be as difficult as anticipated.

Creator, taking my anger in stride, has continued to send synchronicity and messages, has continued to muffle the worst of this strange new pathway I'm on.

March will be a month of reflection...and recovery...and moving on.