The Magic Post

First published June 27, 2013

This seems perfectly relevant for today as well! Using words to reframe my limiting beliefs!

I’m wishing for magic.
I’m wishing for business magic.
I’m wishing for successful business magic.
I’m wishing for profitable successful business magic.
I’m wishing for profitable successful business strategy magic.
I’m wishing for profitable successful business strategy planning magic.
I’m wishing for instantaneous  profitable successful business strategy planning magic.
I’m wishing for instantaneous technically simple profitable successful business strategy planning magic.
I’m wishing for instantaneous technically simple profitable successful automated business strategy planning magic.

Instantaneous? Within one month working one hour per day offline and five hours weekly online.
Technically simple? By smartphone with one 5-hour internet session per week.
Profitable? $1400 in sales per month.
Successful? Reliable for 12 months.
Automated? What gets set up works automatically without being worked on every day.
Strategy? Using content and skills I already have.
Planning? I know what to do each day for my one hour and for my 5-hour internet session.
Magic? This could actually work even though it seems preposterous.

That’s my wish.

That’s my request of the amazing, unlimited, creative Universe.

I’m wishing for requesting magic.
I’m wishing for requesting business magic.
I’m wishing for requesting successful business magic.
I’m wishing for requesting profitable successful business magic.
I’m wishing for requesting profitable successful business strategy magic.
I’m wishing for requesting profitable successful business strategy planning magic.
I’m wishing for requesting instantaneous  profitable successful business strategy planning magic.
I’m wishing for requesting instantaneous technically simple profitable successful business strategy planning magic.
I’m wishing for requesting instantaneous technically simple profitable successful automated business strategy planning magic.

Next, I will write every day what this looks like, and express my gratitude for already having received it. I will do a Radical Manifestation worksheet every day and let Spirit work in me.

Sunrise Steps


Damariscotta, Maine.
June 8, 2020
I see it! I open my heart and mind to the metaphor offered. A new day’s light beams through the trees in the sky and in the world and time I am in…
The light calls me to see my own path in creating racial justice, to see the true history of the horrendous enslavement of black people, the disingenuous “freeing” of black people, and the disgusting and conniving suppression of black people as you courageously fought and must still fight for your full humanity to be respected in my white world. I HAVE been blind and tolerant of the deep and orchestrated systemic racial discrimination in the US, assuming that it has been enough for me to be kind to the black people I meet and know personally. I now see that I can DO more. Today, I let the Light reveal that path for my best way.
Thanks to Clara Martin for revealing a step I could take today on a path toward racial healing. I registered for a training tomorrow offered by the DC Peace Team. Non-Violent Communication. One step. https://dcpeaceteam.com/

Oregon Coast Trail: Whale of a Day

August 25, 2019

On which we walked big miles, made a big leap in our thruhiking style, and saw some really big creatures!

Adding a few more words or phrases to the words above, like in one of those grammar games, we walked something like sixteen miles, starting our day at 5 a.m. at Devil’s Lake State Park and ending at 7:30 p.m. at Beverly Beach State Park. We made a big leap in our thruhiking style by catching the Lincoln County bus to skip four miles of walking on US 101 between Taft and Gleneden, making our day’s trip miles jump to 20. And, for our first time on this trip and over several hours of our day, from Boiler Bay south to Cape Foulweather, we saw whales – Gray Whales! Mostly, we saw the spouts of water sprayed from whales, and sometimes the backs of whales, to the tune of about 20 sightings in four to six spots along the coast. We just caught a glimpse of one whale between two houses as we walked down residential Coast Street in the southern streets of Depoe Bay. It was a whale of a day!

Other highlights include:

  • Walking into the sunrise on the beach. We had to walk 3 miles down the beach to the bus stop in Taft to catch the 7:30 a.m. bus. A blessing, really.
  • Meeting a winter resident of Palm Springs, CA (near us in Borrego Springs) at the park in Gleneden as we cooked our oatmeal and kale breakfast after our 7:30 a.m. bus ride.
  • Stopping for “the best of the best” latte at Pirate Coffee in, guess what, Pirate Cove! I’m not a good judge of coffee, but it was a nice stop on a windy day!
  • Visiting the Oregon State Parks Whale Watching Center in Depoe Bay where we saw more whales and I got an idea for an activity for the Visitor Center at Anza-Borrego Desert State Park where I’ll be from October through May.
  • There was a stretch of roadwalk along Otter Crest Drive that actually had a dedicated pedestrian/bike lane, a single one-way lane for cars, signs identifying bikes and walkers, and a 20 mph speed limit. We felt gratefully accommodated in the transportation corridor for three whole miles!
  • Several stretches along US 101 today had dirt trail built off the shoulder, sometimes behind the guardrail or through the nearby vegetation. We noticed that it coincided with a utility line. We were grateful that we could share that space! In one of my many Radical Forgiveness moments of this journey, I noticed the irony of celebrating a powerline.
  • I was tired and cranky on our last 2-mile beach walk of the day, but grateful to reach Beverly Beach State Park to find the nice storage boxes with receptacles for phone charging in the Hiker-Biker campsite. Another irony of hiking all day – too worn out to fully integrate the beauty I came to enjoy!

This was our 12th day in the Oregon Coast Trail, 138 miles from our starting point.

Boiler Bay, Sighting our first grey whales

Taft, OR Historic District at dawn

Whale Cove Overlook where we saw whales and harbor seals too!

Oregon Coast Trail: Stamina

August 24, 2019

I awoke with gratitude for being in the quiet green spaciousness of the Cascade Head rainforest. Our choice to stop our forced march to the Sea Echo Motel in Lincoln City and sleep in this forest was a good one! This is what we needed! The stop also broke up our road walk on US 101 into two days instead of one very long, arduous one! With my spirit renewed by a night in the woods, I could bolster my courage and tolerance and walk on the road again. We still had 3.7 miles to go to Lincoln City, where we could shop at Safeway and return to the beach for a short walk to Devil’s Lake State Park Campground. We got away from our camp at a leisurely 8:40 a.m. We still had an hour’s walk in the forest. This time, I paid attention to its beauty!

About 9:30 we reached US 101, resuming our walk on the shoulder. An hour later, John noticed Clancy Road, which Bonnie had noted in her Dayhikers Guide as a short cut to the beach. We followed the road about 20 minutes to her cryptic description of a gate, then a trail, but stopped short of walking through private property. We simply weren’t willing to do it! We retraced our steps on Clancy Road, picking a handful of ripe blackberries on our way, and got back on US 101. At least we had tried!

At 11:25 we passed the Neotsu Post Office. Across the street I spied a golf course. “Maybe we could walk along the edge and avoid some of 101,” I suggested. We tried it and boldly started walking along the golf cart road toward the south side of the golf course. No one seemed to mind. A few minutes later, we heard, “What are you doing here?” A man wearing a white hat lettered Chinook Winds Resort pulled up in his golf cart. “Good! Someone who can direct us!” I called cheerfully. “We’re trying to stay off 101 and get over there!” I pointed to the next busy intersection. “Well, you can’t be here! Keep moving! Golfers are coming!” He snapped. We kept moving. Another golfer came along and we asked him for clearer directions. He gave them kindly, and we walked directly through the course on the cart road and out into the neighborhood, freed again from 101 for half a mile. Within ten minutes we reached Safeway, a safe place for us to be. There, we knew we were welcome to shop and eat a tasty lunch of guacamole, red pepper, lettuce, and fresh strawberries. Then, we shopped again for our food for the next 24 hours.

At 1:45 we were back on the road again, looking for the beach access at the Chinook Winds Casino. We found it quickly, along with the noisy rock band and crowd enjoying a car show. We ignored all that and headed to the beach! Two hours later, we ambled through the beach crowds to leave the beach at D River, “The Shortest River”, according to the signs, and walk north for one last bit on US 101 to the entrance to Devil’s Lake State Park Campground. Soon, we were all set up at the Hiker Biker site, with four others.
We had arrived so early, I had time to shower and wash out my clothes!

We were still hiking, undefeated by the challenging roadwalking on US 101!  John made no further mention of his idea to leave the trail. I was glad I had made no response to his frustrated threat yesterday. Tomorrow, we would be on the trail again after a good rest!

Oregon Coast Trail: Roadwalking

August 22/23, 2019

“I’m going to call this Horrible Hill!” says John as we pace up the hill on the shoulder of US101. He must not be using Regina’s Meet the Mountains Technique, I thought. It wasn’t the elevation change bothering him, though, it was the threat of zooming trucks veering over the white line on the narrow shoulder. I agree, roadwalking is not fun, and this stretch bothers me too. It’s 2 p.m. on a Friday between the beach towns of Neskowin and Lincoln City. We were on a 4-mile stretch of the trail where there’s no trail. The official route follows the U.S. highway.

Our memories were still fresh of the 6-mile road walk the prevoius evening. The pang of that four-hour road walk was raw because we had missed our chance at getting a boat ride across the Neskowin River to skip it. Both of us had hoped the other one was asking the boaters for a ride when neither was. We did have the chance to talk about that while we walked along the busy two-lane highway, though.

Today’s walk is similar. Sometimes there’s a shoulder. Often, there’s not. Often the road curves so drivers can’t see us. It’s not safe. We persist. “How can they call this a trail when there’s no place to walk?” I grumble silently, sometimes out loud.

An hour into the walk, we see a mowed hay field we could cut across. Squish! Down in the ditch of tall grass that we must cross, John steps in a creek. I get to miss that. The field is lumpy, but it’s safer than the road. We rejoice that fifteen minutes’ walk takes us safely back out to our road. At dusk, we reach the return to the beach and cap off the day with tenting on the beach, tucked beyond the tide line in the dune grass. The roar of the ocean surf is a welcome respite from the roar of the traffic.

On Friday’s walk between Neskowin and Lincoln City, up Horrible Hill, we got a break a couple of miles in. The official trail turned off into Cascade Head Science Research Area. We started out with 1.5 miles on the Forest Service Road, then turned off on dirt trail through the lush, green rainforest. I’m sad to say, though, that I was so caught up in my grumbling about having to walk 3.7 miles through the forest then another 3.5 on the road to reach our hotel goal for the night, 7.2 more miles and it’s already 4 o’clock, that I pay only slight attention to the forest.

Our Victim Story builds when John, thinking I’m not waiting for him as I’m charging ahead athletically to the goal, catches up and says, “I’m thinking of getting off in Lincoln City and going to get the van. Then, I’ll do car support for you so you can finish the trail.”

I’m stunned! He’s the one who is focused on completing any trail he does! I hold my tongue for a minute, then say, continuing my pace, poking my trekking poles into the ground to dissipate my frustration, “I hear what you say, and I have no response!” My terse remark has wisdom behind it. I know that quitting a long term plan on a bad day is unwise. But, I now know that John is uncharacteristically wavering and I won’t fuel the doubt!

“What if we just stop this march and camp in this forest?” I muse to myself. I start looking for a flat spot. The forest is impenetrable with underbrush and no camping is allowed (Which is another rant about newly formed trails!). Fifteen minutes later, with probably another forest mile to go, I see an opening! Thick moss blankets little patches of flattish ground. “What if we stop here for the night?” I suggest. “I have no plan any more,” John says dispassionately and follows me off the trail.

Our spirits are uplifted during that respite of quiet green. The towering trees, dripping with Spanish moss, catching dappled golden patches of evening sunlight soothe my resentment. I rest, running the words of The Thirteen Steps to Radical Forgiveness through my head. Am I willing to see perfection in this situation? Is there an opportunity to learn and grow here? Yes. I let Spirit do the work of providing a suggestion of how.

At 3 a.m. I wake up still thinking. I listen to the tracks from Walk for a Singing Heart. Barbara’s songs and the three exercises shift my perspective to openness to a new way of seeing the roadwalking and of being in the roadwalking. I don’t know exactly what that will look like. I don’t have a clear plan, but I acknowledge that I probably have more choices in this situation than I had realized. I sleep again and wake up, still in awe of this amazing forest and emboldened by our willingness to rest here.

Saturday provides a clean slate!

Oregon Coast Trail: Rain Day

August 21, 2019

7:56 Zach drops us off by boat on the Netarts Spit. We walk the beach, wondering when the forecasted rain would start. It’s overcast and raining oh so slightly. As we walk, the only ones on the beach today, my mind wanders to the rhythm of my feet.

This is our eighth day of hiking and I have noticed some inconveniences – I’m tired from our long days of walking, ready for a rest day; my sandals aren’t working so great because they rub a couple of toes raw. I do have gauze tape which helps; Its windy and starting to rain making walking a little uncomfortable.

As I walk, though, I notice the immense and surprising beauty of this beach – frothing surf, constant waves, soft, smooth sand, forested ridges giving way to grassy dunes where the indigenous Netarts people lived, sand dollars in various pieces inviting me to see if I can make a collage of them into a whole.

All of the inconveniences dissolve in the presence of the captivating beauty!

We walk on.

I notice that the mid-morning sun occasionally pierces the cloud veil to my left while ahead the white mist of rain blankets the beach.

Something tumbles along the sand. A creature? No, a tuft of the grassy-bladed seaweed. Tumbling seaweed? Who would have imagined?

9:12 I spy a smooth, bleached log resting in the deep sand back from the surf and from the firm sand where we walk. Time for a snack. “Look! A rainbow!” John says. How can I feel anything but contentment? It’s a complete rainbow arching above the ocean straight out in front of me!

9:45 We walk on. Now, its rainy and windy. It’s warm, though, so I’m comfortable, realizing that most people probably limit their beach walks to clear days, missing this remarkable sensory experience! We’re getting closer to the end of this beach now. We meet the first other walkers of the morning. They’re holding their shoes, walking barefoot.

10:25 we reach the end of the beach at the base of Lookout Cape which makes a steep, insurmountable wall in our path. We climb up the dune and walk through the campground to find the Hiker Biker site at Lookout Cape State Park. According to our guidebook, this one is the favorite of hikers.

We look at the Hiker Biker site. There are at least 16 sites with tables and small patches for tents, all carved out among small evergreen trees and thick shrubs. There’s the charging station with cubic metal lockers equipped with usb connections. So far, the Oregon State Parks have all had these. What a nice feature!

We waited to check in ’til noon, when the rain started in earnest. We crawled into our tent and napped. In about thirty minutes, water was coming through the tent floor! I laid out the poncho for an extra layer. “Why didn’t we choose the site with the grassy spot?” I lamented. I took a walk around to look at the other sites. As it turned out, our tent was actually on one of the few dry spots in the whole Hiker Biker camp! Even the grassy spots were inundated! The cleared spot at our site where we had first considered putting our tent was now a three-inch puddle!

5:00 p.m. The consistent rain seems to have stopped, although it’s still cloudy and drippy outside. We’ll stay put! It’s nice to have had this rainy day to rest – and do some catching up on journaling!

Oregon Coast Trail: Water Shuttles

August 21, 2019

“$40 cash would make that happen” I heard the voice on the phone say. John was arranging a shuttle across Netarts Bay with Zach at Big Spruce RV. This would be our third water shuttle in three days on our walk of the Oregon Coast Trail. It was 1 o’clock in the afternoon and Netarts was about 8 miles away. Not bad. We could make it. What John and Zach had arranged was a site for the night at his RV park and a shuttle across the bay in the morning, about a quarter of a mile ride. That was great because having a known place to camp plus the shuttle were two essential services we needed!

This business of water shuttles is something new for me on a long distance trail, except for the Kennebec River ferry on the Appalachian Trail in Maine. That one, however, requires nothing of hikers but to show up at the riverside during operating hours with the small fee in hand. On this trail, we must call and schedule our rides, once we find out whom to call. John has gotten names from Dayhiking Oregon Coast by Bonnie Henderson.
Our ride from Zach was at 7:30 a.m. on our eighth day. He was able to add it to his morning of renting that boat out to a crabbing customer (No, I did not say crabby customer!).

Our first water shuttle was easier! That one, provided by Jetty Fisheries at the Nehalem Jetty, had us finding landmarks like on a treasure map. John called them the day before and I heard the voice say, “Come to the river side of the bay and look for the American flag. Then, you’ll see the little yellow building. Across the river from there, you’ll find a couple of tall posts. That’s where you call us and we’ll come over and get you.” Worked like a charm! On the morning of our sixth day we walked two miles down the trail to the North Jetty from Nehalem State Park where we had camped the night before. As we left the trees along the dune and reached the channel flowing between the bay and the ocean, we looked inland and saw the flag! We walked toward it and when we could make out the buildings, we saw the small yellow shed on the dock. Picking up our pace along the beach we soon saw three bleached tree trunks, like flag poles sticking up out of the ground. One was emblazoned with streamers and a pirate-themed flag. And, just as planned, John called, and within ten minutes, our pilot motored over the 100 yards to pick us up. He dropped us off at the Jetty Fisheries dock where we could see their bustling business of selling crab dinners and renting out boats. In the store, we paid our $20 shuttle fee and bought some snacks. Success!

Now, you’re wondering why we’d go to the trouble of hiring these shuttles? Well, this one saved us a 5-mile road walk around the bay. This way was lots more fun and kept us walking along the beach, not the road!

The second shuttle we took, thanks to John’s research, was easy and smooth as well. In the crabbing town of Garibaldi, he called the Garibaldi Marina, a private marina that serves the public. John had arranged a 10 a.m. shuttle with them for $30. We arrived in Garibaldi before 8 a.m. having left our campsite at Barview Jetty County Campground by 6:30 a.m. Instead of walking on the road, we followed the railroad bed and found that much more scenic and safe.

In Garibaldi, we found picnic tables all around the public parking area. A shaded one was a perfect place to cook our oatmeal for breakfast. Afterwards, we walked along the block next to the marina and found the office for Garibaldi Marina. We checked in with Jeff who agreed on our ten o’clock time. We had plenty of time to walk to the local market and pick up our food for the next couple of days. We included half a cantaloupe, which we ate at one of several tables installed around the docks. What a pleasant town for us!

Right at 10:00, we’re sitting in the boat with life vests buckled, ready for our shuttle. 15 minutes later, Jeff is ready to go back to the marina, only delayed by Rose, one of his Labrador dogs who fancied playing on the sand on the far side of Tillamook Bay more than riding in the boat with Jeff. We say our goodbyes, then happily walk off to the beach side of the spit, giving us a far more scenic walk than an 18-mile roadwalk around the bay. What we missed by taking the boat shuttle was the famous tour of the Tillamook Creamery! That could wait, we figure!

One caveat for the Garibaldi Marina service, though, might make a hiker consider going southbound. John asked, “How do you pick up someone from the south side”? Jeff’s answer? “We don’t!”

Thruhiker Celebrity?

“Thruhikers are celebrities!” I read that in a women’s hiking group and chuckled. I don’t feel special! I walked the Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia within a year’s time, so I am a thruhiker.

As a thruhiker, how I know about myself is that I fulfilled my dream of being able to say, “I walked the AT”. I feel true to myself, that I listened to my heart and did what it took to walk one day at a time – and keep walking! So, if doing that makes me a celebrity, great. More than fame, however, what I want to do is entice others to create their own walks wherever they are, on the Appalachian Trail or in the neighborhood park! I want to help you discern what your equivalent of the Appalachian Trail is and step into fulfilling that dream!

I also had the good fortune to work as a ridgerunner, a Leave-No-Trace educator encouraging stewardship on the trail, for seven seasons so I talked with hundreds of hikers on their thruhikes. I got some really good ideas about what character and strategies support hikers who eventually complete the trail. Sadly, I met many, many hikers who thought they wanted to thruhike the Appalachian Trail, but found out that wasn’t what made their heart sing! I was sad that their true dream wasn’t apparent.  Hiking the AT really isn’t for everyone, but everyone does have something that makes their heart sing!  I want to help people do that! There are many ways to have a fulfilling walk of any length – a few miles to thousands! They all have similar qualities, which start with one’s reason for choosing to walk a trail, or sail a boat, or paint a picture, write a book, sew a garment, whatever is true to you!

Studying my own story and listening to thousands of AT hikers, helped me discern five essential aspects of a long-distance walk to consider in planning and fulfilling a walk.

  • Know your trail
  • Consider your timing
  • Get support
  • Love your gear
  • Methodically transform challenges

My report, Five Essentials to Creating a Radiantly Fulfilling Walk of Any Length elaborates on all five. If you read it you’ll get a good feeling for getting started on your own walk – or dream!

Get your complementary copy here!

https://forgivenesswalks.com/RadiantWalk5

You could be a celebrity too!

Deepening Practices

June 9,

In everything I do, I strive for deepening my sensory and spiritual experience. I’m pretty sure you do too!

I’ve picked up on some techniques from John Muir Laws (his real name!) through his Laws Guide to Nature Journaling. Two years ago, I launched a program at the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park Visitor Center to provide a platform to practice what I’m learning.

Notice and Wonder is now a frequent listing in the Park’s Interpretive Schedule. In it, I offer five simple techniques to

  • observe more closely,
  • remember what we see, and
  • stimulate questions for further consideration.

Visitors love the deepening experience! And, I get to enjoy a couple hours of pure delight doing it, fulfilling my mission of enticing people to come outside and invigorate our hearts and minds, deepening our connection with nature and ourselves.

One of my challenges with Nature Journaling is having supplies on hand when I’m out. Cumbersome notebooks and pencils get left behind! As a backpacker, all of my gear has to be lightweight! I’m happy to report that on this week’s trip to Big Sur I had something that worked! A tiny bag with tiny pencils and a stack of tiny papers to draw and paint on. Oh, and one fine ink pen!

The tiny papers limited my focus to a small part of the expansive landscape to focus my attention. John Muir Laws calls this a landscapito.

I’m so impressed with myself for doing ten landscapitos on the trip! Here are two favs:

Mill Creek Picnic Area: what we thought we’re otters was Kelp!

Black Rock jutting out of the surf.

These tiny watercolors are valuable, not for what they are, but for what they do for me: deepen my observation, strengthen my body memory of my nature experience, and stimulate questions to consider!

What practices for deepening do you have? If there’s one you teach & want to share, by all means tell me about it!

If there’s a practice you wish you were doing more, tell me that too! We can support each other in doing it!

And, here’s another question! If I offered a virtual week of sharing Nature Journaling techniques with supplies included, coaching and support, would you consider it? Reply to this email and say yes or no!

To your deepening!

In joy,

Regina

https://johnmuirlaws.com

 

 

 

 

 

What If?

January 31, 2018

My Super Blue Blood Moon experience today filled my senses with awe and my soul with awakening! A few days ago I realized that the view I would get from my employee housing here at Anza-Borrego Desert State Park would limit my experience to just the beginning of the totality phase of the eclipse. “That’s not good enough!” I declared. As a creator of fulfillment (in difference to a settler for whatever comes), I asked, “Where can I go to get the fullest eclipse experience? I need to be able to see the horizon!” Where better to see the western horizon than the west coast!

I proposed to my partner, John, “How about if we camp on Tuesday night at one of our State Beaches? That way, we could get to see the most of the eclipse!” To my surprise, at least to the surprise of my Old Story that “John never wants to do my ideas” he said “Sure. That sounds good!”

The timing was perfect because Tuesday and Wednesday are our days off. I complicated things, however, by agreeing to do programs at the Visitor Center on both Tuesday morning and Wednesday evening. (Would someone please remind me next time I schedule my month that even though I love doing programs, skipping days off is a great way to burn out!) Anyway, we arrived at our campsite at San Elijo State Beach, about two hours from home, just after dark, with the almost full moon beaming down on us. We took a walk on the beach in the bright moonlight and set the alarm for 3:30 a.m.

To my delight, I could see the beginning of the partial eclipse through the van window! I could take my time getting up out of the warm covers and heading back out to the beach. At 4:00 a.m. we grabbed our lawn chairs and returned to the beach. That’s when the feeling that this, indeed, could be a moment of completion and new beginning, stirred for me. As we walked in the soft red dark of the total eclipse, I stretched into boldly communicating my sense that this moment could provide a “new light” on our relationship.

You might recall that last week I wrote of our 10th anniversary of completing the Appalachian Trail and how it was marked by John declaring that he thought breaking up was our best strategy for going forward. All week, in true Satori fashion, I noticed the beliefs that were coming up. I played a Satori Game that invited me to stop feeding my Old Story of fear of closeness, being invisible, and keeping my light to myself.

“John,” I said, as we picked our way across the smooth stones in the sand, “I want to start being more open with you about how I’m really feeling and what I’m thinking and doing. I want to let you in on what I’m doing in my business and to put energy into creating a summer occupation that really does fulfill both of us!” You see, earlier that morning we had a strained conversation about what John wants to do this summer. The result was a brand new Visioning Brainstorm Map of all the ideas that we had. He has some pretty exciting ideas! I realized that there really are several alternatives to my idea of returning to Virginia for another season of Ridgerunning, which John isn’t thrilled about.

As the moonlight returned, I had a palpable feeling that my new beginning could truly start now! My boldness, openness, and authentic sharing actually felt pretty good. The “cleansed and resurfaced” moon was a metaphor for my own overshadowing and refreshing of behaviors and beliefs.

I would like to report that everything has gone smoothly and we are both now talking freely, creatively, and joyfully about bold, fresh choices and that would be false. We did keep talking most of the day, with one bout of tenseness when he accused me of stifling his expression of feelings. I was able to sincerely listen, affirming my commitment to visioning a mutually fulfilling summer.

My celebration of this amazing moon event climaxed with a lighthearted program with 57 visitors for the purpose of watching the magnificent moon rise! The moon’s confident, fresh countenace illuminated my soul with my clear purpose of enticing others to come outside and feel their connection with Earth and Spirit. Many participants thanked me for a fun and informative event. “I loved listening to you!” one woman said.

I’m up late, still buzzing from the inner stirring from this dance with the Moon!

What I’m taking into my sleep – if I can get to sleep – is

“What if this boldness, clarity, and fresh illumination can light up a thrilling adventure? What if this summer can truly be the summer that I magnify the dream I conceived ten years ago when I finished not just the Appalachian Trail but the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) as well? What if my declaration to earn my living hiking that spurred me on at the northern terminus of the PCT is ready to take on a fresh glow this summer?”

One of John’s ideas is to return to the Pacific Crest Trail and walk the northern half. What if I co-created that with him? What if everything I’ve done in the past nine years to build Forgiveness Walks could be unleashed and offered to generate the funds and the community to support this walk? What if it’s time to fulfill a new version of “hiking for my living?” That thought thrills me, like the returning light of the Moon. What if I let this light shine?