I'm not really sure where I am at the moment. I do feel a little lost at sea but since the ocean is my favourite place to be, this is a comfort to me. But I am also feeling the almost constant challenge to stay present and grateful. Sometimes it can be too easy to slip off the radar and live a life of isolation, just focusing on my own thing. I am grateful I have the time and space to delve deep into what interests me but I have to remember the importance of community and engagement and getting out of my space to share space with others. Like most things, it's a balancing act. I thought this card was so very appropriate for the coming week. Wherever I am - and wherever you may find yourselves - this week, allow gratitude to flow into your heart and see where that leads you. Below is the #9 card from The Ocean Oracle. If you've been feeling lost at sea, I hope there is a jetty guiding you into a safe harbour this week.
There was so much to be grateful for. She did not know where to begin. She had been lost at sea, a storm blowing her far off course. She had been gripped by fear as she tried to find her direction. She was in a sturdy vessel with all the best equipment, but she still could not find her way. Was it hours, days or weeks she was like this? It did not matter. She was so grateful that at least she had provisions and a sea worthy vessel. As the seas calmed, the fog settled heavy and thick, rendering her instrument panel useless in helping her find land. She turned inwards, putting trust in her intuition, and headed in the direction she felt was right. As she spotted the jetty which would guide her entry into the safe harbour, she remembered to give thanks to her self - she was so grateful for her whole being.
Are you feeling lost at sea? Surrender into yourself and find a place of gratitude for that which you are sure. Small things, big things - it does not matter - the energy of gratitude brings a certain grace to your being. Open your heart to receive and give thanks for the abundance in your life. The flow of gratitude towards your self and others will bring unexpected journeys and gifts.
My idea of home is tricky at the best of times. I live in one place, in the southern hemisphere, while having a place in the northern hemisphere which can pull strongly on me. I was born to this place in the north, and it is my heartland. But I choose to live in Australia because I love it and it has always felt like home. It's tricky having two places which I call home because they are mutually exclusive - opposite sides of the world sees to that. And I don't imagine I will ever be able to live in one place and not be homesick, at least on occasion, for the other place.
It is to this latest bout of homesickness that I now find myself shrouded in fog. And I am feeling my way through how similar fog and homesickness can be.
I arrive in America this time in the dark. The morning after arrival, I head to the ferry, which will take us passengers to the little island I call home. We embark in fog; sail through fog; disembark in fog. I think if I didn't know this place intimately, I would find I don't like it. It's uncomfortable, this fog. Not being able to see more than a few yards in front of me requires an immense amount of trust. I really have to trust my own navigational skills and trust that there isn't harm, just out of view. And depending on where my head is mentally, this can either be liberating or inhibiting. Will I trust my safety? Or fear unseen dangers? It doesn't take much to tip it either way.
One day, then a second day, of fog and I start to question myself. It's hard to gain clarity when you can't see the path. From experience I know the path is there but do I want to fight my fears to feel safe to walk it?
And then, in a New England minute, the fog rolls away and the most divine and glorious day is unveiled. I breathe a joyous sigh of relief. I can move forward with a sense of direction. There are wide expanses before me and so many directions I can't count. Everything is possible. That night, the sky is filled with a million stars I can't see most of the year. All is well and I am so happy to be home.
The next morning, the fog is back. And while it's still wonderful to be here, it's not as wonderful. Being in fog can be very disorienting. From experience, you know where things are - certain landmarks, for example. But you can't see them. It's back to trust. Trusting yourself and your own memory and intuition to guide you.
And it's a bit like homesickness. Needing to see those people and places that you remember, but time and space have relegated to foggy recesses. You know they are there, but just out of sight and reach. For me, it's about trusting that beneath the fog there is always a glorious day. If I can trust that, I can enjoy the beauty and stillness of the foggy days.
I love the power of story and story telling and writing is an integral part of my healing journey. More about me here.