It Might Sound Crazy...But...

I find myself saying this a lot lately.

It might sound crazy but I’m going to Peru.
It might sound crazy but I’m not taking my husband. Or my kids.
It might sound crazy but I’m going to the Amazon to take part in an Ayahuasca ceremony (or four).  

I’m booking a trip for me. Spending money on myself. Taking 10 days away from my daughters and my husband.

Just so I can go to the jungle and drink a hallucinogenic tea? Yep, I’m saying yes to Peru.

Earlier this summer I felt the call of plant medicine. I felt an urge to learn about the abundance that surrounds us. It made me think of ayahuasca, after all, what stronger plant medicine can there be? When the chance came to go on an 18 day excursion, I didn’t take it.  I was too worried to leave my daughters. It was a hard decision to say no when the urge to go felt so strong. But when a recent trip was changed to 10 days, I immediately said yes. YES, YES, YES!!!!!!!

This trip is all heart. My head says it’s crazy. How can I leave my girls, how can I spend the money, shouldn’t I prioritize family first, am I not afraid of spiders (though I’m not sure what spiders are in the amazon but my guess is there are many),  and am I seriously going to do ayahuasca?

But the call is so strong, I won’t deny it. On the last day of the Healing Grief and Trauma program the message to me was clear, “The time has come to make your own medicine”. And with that I saw a red bag, a medicine bag. I immediately thought of Peru. How perfect that on this trip we will begin to make our own medicine bundle.

Want to join me? Check Sarah’s page for details. https://www.facebook.com/events/227056404138508/

MOMMY!!!!!

This summer we did some work with the Gitxsan near Hazelton, BC. We decided to turn our second trip into a family vacation. As we made the long drive west we passed by an ancient forest just outside of Prince George. I couldn’t wait to stop. How amazing would an ancient forest be? I explored the boardwalk with my 5 year old and my husband. My daughter was as excited as I was, she raced down the boardwalk taking in everything (and talking non-stop). I’ll be honest, I wanted to yell at her, “SHUT UP!!! WE’RE IN AN ANCIENT FOREST!! MOMMY WANTS TO SOAK IN THE MAGIC OF THIS MOMENT!!!” Didn’t she know? These cedars are ancient, with deep roots and magic in their branches. I stopped to wrap my arms around a tree when my Zen was pierced “Mommy, Mommy, MOMMY!!!!” I looked at her as she danced along the boardwalk and for a moment I put aside what I thought was most pressing and I started to play. She had seen the magic of the forest, in her mind we had both sprouted wings, two fairies flying amongst the cedars. I played and giggled and chased her under the branches.  

My daughters are two of my biggest teachers. As I dive more into what spirit means to me, my biggest challenge has been bringing those lessons home. Home from the quiet of solitude. Home from the top of the mountain, where Spirit feels so close that I blend seamlessly into the universe. Where I feel whole, light, love. How do I bring this feeling home where it is most significant?

One of the biggest lessons I have learned in motherhood is allowing myself to set aside time for me. Because the role of Mommy can be all consuming. In the beginning I could barely stand to be apart from my oldest for even an hour. It was hard to discern where she ended and I began. But that pull was unsustainable. I started to remember that I wasn’t just “Mommy”, I am a separate being and I long for my own time. At first I didn’t take a lot of it, it felt selfish, especially because my children clearly NEED ME! But, I harken back to that all important airline safety message, put your own oxygen mask on first before you help anyone else. And sometimes, when I am drowning in little hands, I desperately need oxygen. Oxygen and maybe and a nice glass of red.

Another lesson in motherhood has been about fear. The fear that something terrible will happen to my daughters. I once heard having children described as having a piece of your heart running around on the outside. How true that is. And how humbling to know that despite my best efforts I can’t protect them from everything. As I navigate my own healing and my own path I am strengthened to know that pain brings the opportunity to learn. And that we truly have the capacity to heal ourselves from anything. While I don’t wish hardship on my daughters, I try to honour their path and know their resilience runs deep.

My daughters. Two amazing gifts in my life. I truly believe that on some cosmic level we chose each other. They taught me about a love deeper than I knew existed. They remind me to pause, have fun, run and play, laugh, be wild and silly and dance with abandon. They test my limits, remind me to find grace and to strive to be better. For this I give thanks.