I am sitting on the back porch of my grandmother’s home, listening to a particularly strong wind blowing through the leaves of a line of trees behind me. Chestnut, Poplar, Birch, Maple, Spruce, Willow, repeat. It’s the poplar and birches though that always draws me in. They with their sparkly foliage, they shimmer. There is a little hummingbird scooping up the nectar from the flowers in the pots in front of me. I know him he visits every day. How am I too leave this place? It’s magic to me. Peace and kindness and stillness.

A few weeks ago now, on two separate occasions, I was told that I have the gift of discernment of sprits. I don’t agree. I think I am a very sensitive person and I am especially at times in tune with the world around me. I have learned to pay attention to my intuition. I feel things but it’s more like energy that is put off by living things, or places. That’s not a spiritual gift I don’t think it’s just a sensitivity towards the world.

Let me tell you a little story. I can’t make sense of it – in fact to me it feels like a puzzle all tangled up and I despite having all the pieces can’t put them together.

17. This is a magic number. I was here last at seventeen. My grandpa died when I was 17.  I felt the Holy Spirit first at 17. I encountered Satan first at 17. I said no to God and yes to my ex husband at 17. I had nothing but struggle and strife since I was 17. I choose a path at 17 – a path that would continue to form me into the strong, yet delicate, intricate, compassionate, caring, person I am today. I lived a life of hardship – so that I could sit here today and really truly see the world. I am so grateful for this gift that through Jesus and his unending love I can make holy and sanctified.

I have my son and daughter that I love more than anything else. They are my silver lining that comes from that marriage. All though I stumbled and choose poorly, acted erratically, become lost and sad – they – those two little beings, (well very big beings now) those two perfect humans came from that chaos and I am more grateful than I’ll ever be able to express. In fact I am so in love with them that it is overshadowing the negativity that has passed and is helping me to love my Ex selflessly. I know he isn’t good for me, but honestly I want more than anything for him to experience a conversion of heart – I want him to recognize his own longing and come to the foot of the cross to find salvation. I would like to meet him there.

Since I have spent the last 15 years in the chaos I am now just emerging and with my new existence I am moving in a different direction. Self-discovery. Who am I?

Piece by piece I am being formed. I am a mother, daughter, granddaughter, niece, sister friend – sure. That’s just the surface thought. I am learning about my deepest nature now – the why’s behind my actions. My love of nature, quite and wind, my love of beauty, art, words, my need to attentively act in justice of others suffering. It’s a whole world of newness that I am discovering.

My roots, my ancestors. Scottish highlanders, lowlanders settling here in this remote island – starting schools, and a community of hard working quiet caring settlers.  French Canadian – Metis living hundreds of years ago from the land. Is it any wonder that I am energized by the elements of the earth? It is in my blood, the ragio – the life radiating from the trees. It’s penetrates my very soul. The ocean, it’s vast blue it captures my very life essence. I am from an island and therefore it is only surrounded by water that I am at peace.  I come from wonderers, people that see the world and are moved with compassion. People that act – and love humanity.

I love my time here so far learning. This is going to be a year of discovery. Well – more like a life of discovery. I am very okay with that.

..the travellers..

I have been thinking about writing all the time, almost every day yet I just didn’t make the time until now.  So we made it to Ontario. Currently I am sitting on my grandma’s deck, over looking Campbell bay in Lake Huron. All I hear is the wind, grasshoppers, a wind chime, and the waves… Seriously all my favorite things.

I love it here. I fit here. I am meant to be here. It’s my belonging place.

Yesterday on the way to the island we stopped into the Sault. I went to see my mom’s old house, my great grandma’s old house and then eventually her. I went to the cemetery and visited her grave.

There was a butterfly on her headstone; it was a simple marker nestled next to her husband who passed thirty years before her and her son that passed as a child. Only 7 years old. Imagine.

This woman has been on my mind so much in the last few months. I wish I could have known her better in life but I think in death I am going to get to know her through others that new her and loved her. She was an adventurer. She loved travel and people and really living. She was passionate and followed through. I want to be like that.

Today we are going to go for a walk I want to show Dd some of my childhood memories. The row of old apple trees, the sugar shack, old taps road. It’s really magical here – well to me it’s magical.

Peace & Prayers.


This is a poem my Great Grandma loved;

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too:


If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;


If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same:


If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;


If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss:


If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’


If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much:


If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,


And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!