A few years ago, I feel in love with the Wisconsin River. A former partner took me on several paddling and camping adventures on the islands, and I felt a sense of wild freedom, though so close to home. 

Though our relationship ended, it didn't feel like my connection with the land had. I felt the waters and hills calling me. I was determined to find a way to get back out there.

I had learned a lot from him by watching him read the river, and plan the trips. While I had hoped to find a fellow adventurer to paddle with, I was resolute that I would not allow the lack of one to keep me from getting out there. I would take extra precautions, just in case, because I respect the power of water! 

Following some scheming, collecting dry bags, and roping in a co-conspirator to shuttle me from my car to the starting point, I had a date for my first ever solo paddling river adventure. 

We had several big rains in the week before my trip, and the waters were high. I wasn't sure how many sandbars I might find. If nothing else, I determined this would be a trip to gather intel and get to know the river better. If I didn't find a sufficient place to camp, I could paddle through to my car, and it would just be a fun day trip. 

I disembarked from shore with a quiet exhilaration. I passed pelicans congregating, but no fellow paddlers. Water was up into the trees in most places, and areas that had sandbars the week prior were flooded. I paddled on. I came across a few areas of high ground, but they were early on in my paddle, very exposed, or had a lot of TP. (Come on people! Leave no trace!) I decided to take my chances and carry on. 

As I was ventured on, it was clear I wasn't going to have a ton of options, so I ardently paddled up to and assessed any seeming patch of clear, dry land for its potential as a camping spot. There were times I I paddled around little islands or against the current on this already windy day so as not to miss a viable option. The spots of dry land I found were either very exposed and therefore didn't really feel like an enjoyable place to set up camp, barely had any clearance from the water so if it fluctuated overnight I could be in trouble, or were teaming with poison ivy.  

I checked my GPS, and it didn't seem like there were going to be any more suitable islands between me and the boat landing. I accepted that this would just be a day trip, and I would return again when water levels were lower. I found the easy flow of the river, relaxed, and let the current carry me while took in the views of the hills.

Then! Over yonder, at my 9:00! I spied a sandy bit of shoreline about a foot above the water. It could just be erosion, OR there might be a possible campsite there. Odds were low, but this was my last chance. I was nearly at the landing. I debated for a flash second, and ultimately decided to go for it. 

I turned my kayak a hard 90 degrees left and started paddling hard. The current was still pushing me downstream, so I was having to fight the current and make the distance. I got about 75% of the way across this football field width of the river. I battled the current, but it was slowly taking me backwards downstream. I kept trying to push through, but it became clear to me that there was no way I was going to overpower this water.

I resigned, once again. 

I turned around. I looked over to the right, and immediately, on the opposite side of the bank—the side I had just come from—there was a beautiful, and definitively viable campsite that was *literally glimmering in the sunlight.* It had a significant stretch of sand that was at least a couple feet above the water level, and behind it a grassy clearing surrounded by trees. Little white flowers were swaying and reflecting the light. The heavens were shining upon this site!

This spot was tucked just beyond a bend in the river, hence why I hadn't seen it earlier, when I was in that nice smooth flow.

This really was my last chance! And it looked perfect! I paddled hard again. But because of that bend in the river, now I was fighting the fastest part of the water I had encountered all day. I was getting closer though! Determined, though I was being pushed downstream, I still made progress. I engaged my whole body, grunting and growling as I cut through the powerful current. It must have been the sound effects that did it. I found the refuge of an eddy, just in front of the shoreline. That little bit of relief from the current was enough that I was able to successfully land my vessel. It also must have also been what created such ideal conditions for this site.

I made it. 

I took a sec, thanked my body, my kayak, and the river, and set up camp. Amusingly, I realized there were a few fishermen sitting on the opposite shore. They had probably seen this whole ordeal, and given the way sound carries on water, heard my grunting and growling too. Got to laugh at yourself sometimes. 

As I settled in for the night, I reflected on that experience. I worked so hard to try to find a site that might work for me. Then, in my anxiety of seeing what I thought would be my last possible option, I left the peaceful, smooth flow to try to get to a spot that the current was never going to let me get to. In reality, it probably wouldn't have been a feasible site anyway. In my hasty neediness I nearly missed this beautiful, ideal campsite that was literally glimmering in the sunlight. If I had stayed in that current, and not gone after a slim-chance-but-I'll-take-what-I-can-get possibility, I would have been better set up to get the ideal spot. Still probably would have had to work a bit, given the bend in the river, and needing to break into the eddy, but not nearly as hard as getting there from the opposite side all tired already. 

This was a message I needed to hear from the Universe at the time. It reinforced the rightness of me walking away from a situation that was exhausting and not good for me, and gave hopes of those dreams being fulfilled after choosing to turn around.

Float on my friends,
Sarah

This one goes out to my pops, Bob the Nice Guy.

Today, and all days, but, especially today, I remember him.

During his time, this kind, gentle, creative soul emanated a love that I'll be nestled within for the rest of my life. Dad modeled how to be a brave, compassionate human, spirit undampened by challenges. He believed in me, and this instilled a confidence in myself to step into the world as I have. He gave me my goofy, and sometimes ridiculous sense of humor, for better or worse. I'm sorry? ;)

There aren't words for all that I could say. Perhaps someday, I'll reach across time and space to him in the Great Beyond, capture the words in poetry like the great mystics Hafiz and Rumi, bottle them up as some elixir to share with you. But that is for another day.

What I have for you today is wisdom he shared with me often during my early decades:

"Life is what you make it."

When I muse over this, I meditate on the essence of what I want to cultivate in my life. Compassion, kindness, joy, wonder, acceptance, love. I aim to help myself and others find relief from pain in healthy ways. To delight in the unique facets of life. To laugh and marvel at the beautiful intricacies that are revealed when we pay attention.

I suppose there are some specific "outcomes" that maybe, someday, I'd like to experience, but I hold them lightly now. I know that life is more than the boxes we check off. It takes twists and turns. Sometimes it pans out as expected and sometimes not. A lot of it we can't control. But the way we choose to show up with what is given, we can. I do believe care, love, wonder, and shared humanity exist in all these moments, though sometimes it can be hard to find or access. Yet, if I trust in my ability to find these qualities within myself and the world, there will be a little more internal grace, no matter what plays out. Even during the hard stuff.

In the months following my dad's passing last fall, the prospect of Father's Day rolling around without him felt pretty grim. Around the new year, inspiration came of an epic adventure to connect with him, and let a shared dream finally come true. This gave me a light and a focus amidst the grief, a way to make a long-held vision come to life. As you read this, I am likely in ceremony, honoring this sweet soul and our shared love of mountains, land, and nature. Making a bit more magic out of this life, and if I'm going to really make Dad proud, a joke of it too. But more on that later... right now, I'm busy.

Happy Father's Day.

So it goes.
Sarah


P.S. Dad would want me to share this with you. :) If you want to sing out, sing out...

Over the last few months, as we all have been adjusting moment by moment to navigate the coronavirus pandemic, we've been provided with a unique opportunity. Such dramatic shifts in our daily routines, and oscillating in and out of the old ways of operating offers us new perspective. Some may have had more chances to pause amidst the uncertainty. Though even for those who have had to rush around to ensure survival, this experience has offered us all the chance to reassess.

In sessions, I've heard some of you sharing how much calmer and more supported you feel working from home, and having less pressure to rush off to so many activities. I've heard others sharing excitement about how the Earth gave a sigh of relief with less pollution, but not with how we are all using so much more disposable PPE materials which are inundating our landfills. Others have been grappling with the blatant disparities of class, and color have come to the forefront as we see how socioeconomics and race have played out in one's increasing exposure to the coronavirus. Those are just a few observations I've heard from clients over the last few months.

So, let's pause for a moment, and contemplate these questions:

• From our former ways of operating, what was life-affirming, supportive, nurturing, connective, and sustainable?
• What was running us to the ground, debilitating, destructive, isolating, or overwhelming?
• Then ask the same questions about the new adaptations we've made in the process.
• Once you've had a chance to explore these questions related to your personal world, zoom out, and with curiosity examine how they might be answered by people who identify differently than you. This is a great opportunity to seek out others voices to hear their experiences.

From this clarity comes the opportunity to forge a path that is deeply infused with our values, and leave behind those structures that no longer serve the greater good. Dream with me for a moment, holding the inner critic and pragmatist aside, just for now. If anything were possible, what kind of world would you want to live in (knowing that so much of what is familiar is man-made, and thus can change)? What is essential, and what is superfluous? Focus on the values you want to bring forth. Imagine how you want your relationship with yourself, your family, community, and the Earth to be. Tune in to as many layers as possible: what you would feel, how it would look, sound, taste, smell, and what it would be like to move through your life. Feel free to express this vision perhaps through a drawing, writing, song, dance. Begin to give it life, give it shape.

While the vision may feel distant or removed from the current reality, know that things are shifting. Many of you have told me you can feel it. I can too. If we hold to our dream, and let it guide our choices, it will support us in cultivating this new world.

Though I have been dreaming this for a while, it wasn't until the last few months that I felt that I might see aspects of this transpire in my lifetime. My longing has been for us to come into right relationship with ourselves, humanity, and the planet. A world where we live with reverence, and respect for all of the beings that share this floating rock in space. That we remember to consider how our actions will affect seven generations in the future, as so many indigenous cultures have practiced. A world where we remember what is important: we take care of each other, forgive each other, hold each other with compassion, and laugh and play together. That we witness and embrace those who are hurting, and/or lashing out without judgement rather than ostracizing them. I imagine that if enough of us live by similar ideals, that if/when the old, unsustainable structures crumble, we will have woven a safety net that will cushion the landing for those who have lost the only thing they've known. We will help them back to their feet, and we will move forward grounded, grateful, and healing together. 

So, dear one, I would love to hear your dream, and answers to those questions. Please share with us in the comments below, so we can inspire each other, and remember we are not dreaming up these new ways alone.

Finally, an announcement: For those of you who are feelers, sensitives, or empaths who have been hoping and wishing to find a way to surrender overwhelm, confusion, improve boundaries, self-care, and embrace your gifts, you will want to join us for this upcoming virtual series. The Empowered Empath begins Tues July 21 and runs for five weeks on Zoom. Because this is a virtual class you can tune into the live class (or recordings) from anywhere around the globe. I can also accommodate a larger group so feel free to share with your empathic friends! I'm offering this on a sliding scale to help out during these trying times. See full class details here.

If you feel inspired to jump in, I look forward to working with you!


Much love,
Sarah