Ooooooh Otesha. You once again have captured my heart and soul.
One last performance, one last cycle ride. As we completed our finale performance the the UVic Campus, we were flying high in the sky with the delightful energy that last performance brought us, that riding the hills of the sunshine coast, and Vancouver island has brought us. And it wasn't only the hills that were challenging; it was the early mornings, it was the flu, it was the rain, it was the challenge of living in a large group, it was the simple life, it was living in close quarters. It was going outside of our comfort zone, and putting ourselves out there in a way that many of us had never imagined we'd ever do. But we sure did do it, and quite successfully too. On our last evening together, we giggled our way together to our dinner spot post performance, with blinking lights in the setting fall sun, and high vis vests galore, we dinged our bells and sang down the streets of Victoria, shouting words of bicycle love to other cyclists along the way. It was a joyous ride, because as a group of strong female individuals, we had come together as one solid team, to take on this challenging two month adventure. Each of us will always remember the delicious food, the early mornings, the feeling of breathing out with excitement when you see all your other teammates arriving at a destination after a long cycling day. We will always remember the folks that we met who are doing amazing work in their communities, the activist swimmers, the keen inspiring environmental clubs, the farmer students, our sacred circle dancing friends, the open farmers, the stores who were generous, and the students who told us the play captured their attention and inspired them to act.
Forever we have forged friendships with one another that we will never forget, and forever we will remember these days as fun and challenging ones, and forever we will bring this inspiration that Otesha has brought us into our lives and our communities. As a whole slew of sustainability projects are being proposed, schemed and committed to, one other tour member and I are going to challenge ourselves more: to buy NOTHING NEW FOR A YEAR. We've yet to work out the details - figuring out what all will be included or not in our buying nothing new, but either way, we'll be getting real creative over the next year to shop second hand, make our own, or barter things with others. Here goes!
It is with great fairy ferry sparkle dust that I write this message - to everyone that my team and I have come across. We have great hope that we have planted a seed in many, so that positive action, positive projects continue to evolve in communities across Canada...
Stay tuned for many more posts as Tricia, Hannah and I continue our adventures southbound, leaving Victoria for Port Angeles, WA on Saturday!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
the gulf islands of hope.
Ah, the gulf islands. Where alternative liberal culture seems mainstream, where free organic apples populate the road side, and where life seems just blissful. I'm currently on Salt Spring Island. Hilly, yes, beautiful, check, delicious vegetables, a definite. All in all, it's quite a magical place to visit, to reaffirm that these liberal haven's do exist, and to visit it with my new friends who share the same excitement as me for all these things, makes it all the better.
After a picnic in the warm fall sunshine beside the famous farmers market in Ganges, following continuous mmmmmm's from all of us as we devoured local peppers, tomaotes, kale, tapanade, sprouts, we cycled up the hills en route back to our host's plot of land. About halfway through the 12km, we stopped at a beautiful freshwater lake and myself and two other team-mates tore off our clothes, and jumped into the water. We sure did hoot and holler, as the cool water shocked our warm bodies to attention. As we scrambled up the doc, and sat in the warm sun, we reveled in the privilege that we all share to be surrounded by such abundance and beauty, and to be able to partake in this wondrous journey.
Sending you some of my love.
After a picnic in the warm fall sunshine beside the famous farmers market in Ganges, following continuous mmmmmm's from all of us as we devoured local peppers, tomaotes, kale, tapanade, sprouts, we cycled up the hills en route back to our host's plot of land. About halfway through the 12km, we stopped at a beautiful freshwater lake and myself and two other team-mates tore off our clothes, and jumped into the water. We sure did hoot and holler, as the cool water shocked our warm bodies to attention. As we scrambled up the doc, and sat in the warm sun, we reveled in the privilege that we all share to be surrounded by such abundance and beauty, and to be able to partake in this wondrous journey.
Sending you some of my love.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
No one said it would be easy
Life in a group is, well, challenging. Especially when you have a large group with a very diverse set of needs, energy and attention levels, and then you throw in some unique scenarios, like pouring rain, flus and colds, and still expectations from the outside world to perform.
Let's rewind a couple days to our absolutely lovely mid-tour retreat at Linnea Farm on quiet gunflint lake on Cortes Island, where we had a cozy space warmed by a wood stove for debriefing, rehearsing and cooking. The farm itself is set in a super unique eco-tone where there is fresh water, bluffs, and small flat valleys for farming in. There are many neat things about this place, but one that was of particular interest to me was the farm school program that they offer for 8 months. Students learn everything from vegetable farming to wildcrafting, permaculture, animal husbandry, welding, carpentry, and biodynamics. We had the wonderful opportunity to have a potluck with a number of the 11 people who are part of the program, and it turned out that they were all young women, much like the women on our team, and conversation and inspiration ensued about each other's adventures with learning! I warned our host that they might just see an application from a certain Kayla someday down the road for this unique program...
As we adventured onward the cold that was running through our group worsened, I caught it, and a few others were starting to have the flu. We were heading out of Campbell River, post performance, down to settle in Royston at an organic strawberry farm, where we'd be camping out while in the Comox Valley. The land and our hosts were beautiful, gracious and warm, but the weather certainly was not. Those in the group that were feeling the cold and flu, were in less then excited moods at the prospect of staying outside for a few days in rudimentary facilities, away from tow in the chilly pouring rain. So, we sought indoor space. Luckily some of my other contacts here set us up at the community centre where we now have warm space to sleep.
But it really made me reflect on just how very very lucky we are to have warm indoor spaces, and how I feel so selfish and spoiled when I even consider the fact that I might feel hungry, or cold. There are so many folks out there who deal with such feelings in a chronic way, who am I to acknowledge these feelings? To consider that even though our bellies were full, we had tents and camp stoves but the group still wasn't satisfied really made me sad.
In an effort to keep our group harmonious, healthy and happy I moved into town, tried to show as much gratitude to the folks at the strawberry farm as possible, and smiled at the generosity of our new hosts. But I really still crave the simplicity of the farm. I like experiencing some discomforts, so that I might feel a little closer to those folks who don't always feel warm, safe and cozy. Uncomfortable situations are some of the best opportunities to learn about yourself, and to learn about your group...and learn I have.
Flash forward to today, a visit, with just five from my team who felt they had the energy to get on our bicycles and cycle 20km out to a family operated woodlot. Harold Macy, who wrote an amazing book that I am so excited to read entitled "The Four Storey Forest; As Grow the trees, so too the Heart" was a great inspiration to us five who visited the sustainably forested woodlot, and did a walk around with him on his land. He takes such time and care in the forest, and truly respects Mother Nature's power and force and unique ability to tell a story that we will never quite understand.
A part of Harold's epilogue reads:
"I have learned to recognize the pragmatism of the forest and not dwell on the unchangeable, but to get over it and move on."
A good lesson beyond the forest too, eh?
"The trees have a way of welcoming us, nurturing us, and subtly allowing us to grow, even as they do. I encourage you to walk in the forest, to work among the trees with tools in hand, and to allow time for the subtle voices to tell you their stories. You will be rewarded."
A good lesson indeed.
Let's rewind a couple days to our absolutely lovely mid-tour retreat at Linnea Farm on quiet gunflint lake on Cortes Island, where we had a cozy space warmed by a wood stove for debriefing, rehearsing and cooking. The farm itself is set in a super unique eco-tone where there is fresh water, bluffs, and small flat valleys for farming in. There are many neat things about this place, but one that was of particular interest to me was the farm school program that they offer for 8 months. Students learn everything from vegetable farming to wildcrafting, permaculture, animal husbandry, welding, carpentry, and biodynamics. We had the wonderful opportunity to have a potluck with a number of the 11 people who are part of the program, and it turned out that they were all young women, much like the women on our team, and conversation and inspiration ensued about each other's adventures with learning! I warned our host that they might just see an application from a certain Kayla someday down the road for this unique program...
As we adventured onward the cold that was running through our group worsened, I caught it, and a few others were starting to have the flu. We were heading out of Campbell River, post performance, down to settle in Royston at an organic strawberry farm, where we'd be camping out while in the Comox Valley. The land and our hosts were beautiful, gracious and warm, but the weather certainly was not. Those in the group that were feeling the cold and flu, were in less then excited moods at the prospect of staying outside for a few days in rudimentary facilities, away from tow in the chilly pouring rain. So, we sought indoor space. Luckily some of my other contacts here set us up at the community centre where we now have warm space to sleep.
But it really made me reflect on just how very very lucky we are to have warm indoor spaces, and how I feel so selfish and spoiled when I even consider the fact that I might feel hungry, or cold. There are so many folks out there who deal with such feelings in a chronic way, who am I to acknowledge these feelings? To consider that even though our bellies were full, we had tents and camp stoves but the group still wasn't satisfied really made me sad.
In an effort to keep our group harmonious, healthy and happy I moved into town, tried to show as much gratitude to the folks at the strawberry farm as possible, and smiled at the generosity of our new hosts. But I really still crave the simplicity of the farm. I like experiencing some discomforts, so that I might feel a little closer to those folks who don't always feel warm, safe and cozy. Uncomfortable situations are some of the best opportunities to learn about yourself, and to learn about your group...and learn I have.
Flash forward to today, a visit, with just five from my team who felt they had the energy to get on our bicycles and cycle 20km out to a family operated woodlot. Harold Macy, who wrote an amazing book that I am so excited to read entitled "The Four Storey Forest; As Grow the trees, so too the Heart" was a great inspiration to us five who visited the sustainably forested woodlot, and did a walk around with him on his land. He takes such time and care in the forest, and truly respects Mother Nature's power and force and unique ability to tell a story that we will never quite understand.
A part of Harold's epilogue reads:
"I have learned to recognize the pragmatism of the forest and not dwell on the unchangeable, but to get over it and move on."
A good lesson beyond the forest too, eh?
"The trees have a way of welcoming us, nurturing us, and subtly allowing us to grow, even as they do. I encourage you to walk in the forest, to work among the trees with tools in hand, and to allow time for the subtle voices to tell you their stories. You will be rewarded."
A good lesson indeed.
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