1 year of buyin' nothing new; next year - avoiding waste

Well, I've completed the year of buying nothing new. And despite what some might think, I didn't rush to the nearest store and buy something new. Rather, I realized all over again how satisfied I've been with the material goods I've got and have had for the past year (or longer). Of course it was a challenging experiment at times, negotiating gifts, body care products, and my "sustainable" mode of transportation which required the most bending of the commitment.

In summary, here are the things that I did end up purchasing new (not without grave contemplation):

-new bicycle helmet

-new bike tires

-new chain and cassette, twice

-new bike lube

-new pocket knife (mine sadly being forgotten on a beautiful NZ beach)

-new toothpaste (though I made plenty of my own homemade stuff too)

-new soap (made one batch from scratch!)

It seemed ironic how my sustainable mode of transport required many 'new' things that either didn't feel comfortable buying second hand, or just wasn't available second hand.

That being said, I am excited to buy new bike shorts. My current pair have been very well worn (ahem, since 2009 well worn).

It's been an exciting project and it really made me think a bit harder about every consumer purchase that I made, and I felt encouraged and determined to experiment with making my own body products and finding whatever gear I might need second hand. I often wondered if it would have been harder to buy nothing new for the year if I was living in one place.

That led me to consider the sustainability of a nomadic lifestyle, such as I've been living for the past year and half. Food choices that are made when I'm traveling immediately come to mind. Smaller quantities are more often bought, and they usually have more packaging. Purchasing smaller quantities also means that fruits and vegetables from farmers markets cannot be stockpiled and preserved in the way you can if you live in one spot. So food habits become a bit less sustainable on the road. Though, I always make a point of travelling with empty plastic bags to refill at bulk stores, and I seek out farmers markets in each new place that I visit. Not only is it a way to get delicious more sustainable food, but it is an experience of some of that places' culture. 

And modes of transportation are also less sustainable when you're traveling. Though I did chose to ride my bicycle most of the places I was exploring over the past year and half, I also took two massive flights across the pacific. Carbon debt for sure. But, whenever possible I chose trains, buses and of course my bike Poppy as a fulfilling alternative to flying over precious and interesting landscapes. Camping over the past year with all my gear packed aboard poppy meant that I became much more pleased with the simple needs of life. Food water, shelter, warmth. I didn't use nearly as much energy and water as I would have living in a house; less showers, more swimming!

So all this reflection and talk about sustainable living brings me to my next thought! What will I challenge myself with this year! Thoughts and brainstorms with my friends here on the west coast have revolved around food and around waste. After discussing with some friends recently in Victoria, we decided to watch the film The Clean Bin Project, a film we'd all heard of but never sat down to watch.

The couple in this documentary go a year without buying nothing new, and creating as little waste as possible, and they keep all their non-recyclable waste for the whole year! They end up with just a little bin of garbage each. Amazing! So, since completing my experimental year of buying nothing new, I now am going to start a year of collecting every bit of non-recyclable waste that I create, and avoiding that waste to begin with. Fun right? Anyone interested in having a bit of friendly competition with me? Whoever has the least amount of waste at the end of the year wins...?

Swollen Heart

The present is all we really know we've got. The only time we really know is for real. And so, now that I'm no longer on Cortes Island, as I process and reflect on what was: all the smells, sights, touches, emotions and deep seeded universal nudges that were felt during my time at Hollyhock, it nearly feels like a great dream, my month at Hollyhock. The kind that you remember well, even though it was experienced in the deepest longest sleep. 

It was a joyous dream, set in a magnificent location among age old trees, squealing eagles with 5 foot wing spans, where deer roam close, and apples fall from trees like the garden of Eden. Food is abundant and ever present, with much laughter, music and fellowship around. In my dream I learned to play the ukulele, I fell in love, over and over. I went within, I spread myself out. I meditated, practiced yoga, did selfless service, learned about Buddhism, stoicism, the hero's journey, the goddess and god in us all, the divine light, mindfulness.  In this 'dream' I cried a bit, felt lots of feelings, and I laughed a lot. My how great it is to laugh. 

After taking down and winterizing the entire Hollyhock site after the last workshop ended with the other volunteers and some staff, we hugged and waved goodbye to our Hollyhock family. I spent a few extra special days on Cortes with one of the other volunteers, cooking, eating, conversing and connecting, bike riding and walking near those beautiful big trees and that those beautiful and big trees. And then, I packed up my bicycle once again, loaded dear Poppy down. As I waved goodbye and felt tears spring to my eyelids, I let out a hoot and holler and cycled across Cortes Island to the ferry, and embarked on wards... 

Breathing in and out and with flashing memories coming into my brain of the dream that was the past month, I slowly pedaled Poppy through the cold rain to Courtenay. I'm now writing to you from Nanaimo, where I'm playing with some Otesha friends. I spent a night camping out near Cathedral grove, a beautiful stand of 800 year old fir trees, and in the frosty brisk air of the evening, as my friend and I were the only ones at the waterfall campsite where we set up home, we built a fire, made some soup and reveled in the simple happiness that camping brings. Waiting for the rainy days to bring sunshine, I'll leave for Victoria on Wednesday to continue visiting friends and exploring Vancouver Island by bicycle. 

A familiar head space; I once again am transitioning from one journey to another. I'm thinking about what my next months will bring, and largely, I'm still discovering what it means to listen deep; to tune right into my heart and speak my truth and make my decisions; for I do believe that listening to the heart centre is what will lead to happy life. 

I'll leave you with a poem which I found buried in the depths of my entertainment bag (I've carried this ziploc bag of journals, pencil crayons, embroidery thread, glue, scrap paper etc. for the past year and a half - a necessity for me while travelling). I wrote it one stormy day in Sydney last January: 

learning, growing
maybe
stifling energy, but greatly
free
move like the wind blows
across the barren field
move with bravery, courage
and to open
to listen deep
to what the universe holds
heart swollen

Right

I stand staring at the ocean, with a sturdy long piece of driftwood in my hand. As I look at the horizon, I scan eastbound toward the snow capped west coast mountains clearly visible on this morning. I breathe a breath out, and feel a grave sense of calmness wash over me.

I turn my gaze downward, to the moist squishy sand of low tide that my blue crocs slowly sink into. I begin by carving a cross into the sand with a half circle and a dot in each of the four quadrants. The dot looks like an eye observing me, and the half circles look like the moon that's been barely visible behind clouds these past few days, as it waxes toward the fullness of itself.

Slowly and methodically I bring the lines to join each point of extension together in large convex arches toward the ocean, beginning to see the cross, half moons, and eyes turn into a unified creation of a labyrinth.

I learned how to draw labyrinths in the sand from my dear friend Jally during my time in Australia. To Jally, the act of drawing and walking the labyrinth has been a great source of calm meditation, contemplation, awareness and presence over her years of walking the labyrinth as a daily meditation. Since she shared how special this ritual was to her, and after I had the chance to experience what it is like to walk this sacred, ritualistic, historic and culturally significant path, I have felt how special these paths are. A symbol of a pilgrimage, a chance to twist and turn, always knowing that you are on the path, the correct one, and losing track of the outside world, the labyrinth invites you to go within and contemplate a question, speak your truth, or just let go of it all. 

This particular morning, after spending 24 days here at Hollyhock, the labyrinth felt stronger as I slowly walked the path towards the centre, and back out again. I've experienced much over the past days here at Hollyhock. I've met some really interesting people, connected so specially with my fellow karma yogis. As I shared in a recent talking circle, that we have each week in the Sanctuary, (a special, grounding, sacred cob structure here at Hollyhock), there are these little bottles inside me. They look like medicinal potion bottles, and there are a few of them, filled with different coloured potions. Since being here at Hollyhock, some of these little bottles have had their corks slowly pulled off, and have been nudged by the universe, so that the colourful potions of emotions, feeling, and awareness, have sloshed over the edge. It's put me in a very amazing but very vulnerable place.   

One of these little bottles spilled completely over this morning, during my walk of the labyrinth. Pink beautiful liquid flowing out, spilling out, washing over me, and spreading onto the sand, and out into the universe, away from me. 

And it felt so good. 

I've shared a lot with people here over the past 24 days. They've shared a lot with me too. A number of themes continue to come up in conversations, in books I pick up, and in presenters and workshops that I encounter at Hollyhock: mindfulness, presence and being aware of the moment you are in. Feeling all my feelings deeply, because I'm allowed to feel whatever is real in my heart, and it is indisputable. Seeking my truth, my true self, learning to listen to that truth, and always speaking it with strength, power and vigor; let my actions follow from my true self. Letting go of the uncontrollable is a valuable practice that immediately brings such peace within - and happiness too. The divine essence resides within each of us, we are all full of this divine light, and so we all have an innate organic connection with one another - amazing! These are just some of the themes, lessons, and conversations I've been having with folks here. There's been oh so much more...

The bundle of energy that is Andria, our volunteer coordinator, meditated on our group and a phrase came to her that she feels resonated with our group purpose or mission during our time here: Inspiration into Action. So I've been thinking about that a lot as well, curious how that looks for me

The amount of love I've been receiving and giving is so magnificent. Other emotions I've been wading through are gratitude, joy, love, fear, vulnerability, confusion, judgement, anger, love, support, fullness, wonder, awe, curiosity, knowledge, and more love, love, love.

As the full moon grows near, I know time has passed and that I will cherish the moments and days I have left here at Hollyhock. It will come time to move on from here, and it will all happen perfectly, just like its suppose to. 

After all, I'm in the right place, at the right time, having the right conversation with the right people.

On purpose?

Are you living in the place you belong, with the people you love, doing the right work, on purpose?

A (loaded) question that was asked at the evening presentation form a workshop facilitator here at Hollyhock who is running a multiday series titled "Repacking Your Bags: Lightening your load for the good life". A really very interesting slew of thoughts and ideas and conversations have been coming up for me over this past first week since I arrived at Hollyhock...

But wait, let's back up some days. Amazing time I had riding the bus across Canada, stopping and visiting with friends en route. Culminating with bright sunny days spent cycling, swimming and eating my way around Vancouver with three familiar faces from my Ottawa days last summer. As far as cities go, Vancouver gets me. Something about it fits like a real good pair of Birkenstocks.

Next I rode my bicycle all loaded up once again to Horseshoe bay, where I ferried my way across to Nanaimo, and was greeted by two super special Otesha friends who have been working real hard at their newly opened community bike shop: Hub City Cycles. I was so excited for them, and to see that indeed the bike co-op is becoming quite a hub in Nanaimo. After some great harvest soup, a walking tour of town and even a race around town on two wheels and down a waterslide or two, I soundly slept and woke early to ride 120km to Courtenay. Here I was greeted by both a friendly bicycle cafe as well a friendly cyclist herself, whom I was so graciously hosted by. We had an absolutely delicious dinner as we chatted about bicycle coalitions, touring and environmentalism. My new friend even rode me out of town the next day en route to Campbell River, the ferry port which would take me to Quadra island, and further on to Cortes the next day. I had one more wonderful stay with super generous people, from whom I loved hearing about adventures in homeschooling, bicycling in Mexico, life on small town Quadra island, and crafting and selling their handmade bicycles (Click here to see more about their company). 

Alas, October 1 came, and as a new month started, it was time for me to cycle home for the next month: Hollyhock education and retreat centre on Cortes Island. After some steep island hills and a bit of warm rain, some momentary confusion about why I'd  chosen  to come so far for something so unknown, oh, and a lot of almond butter, I arrived. And as soon as I met Andria, the volunteer coordinator, and she embraced me in a big hug, I felt that I had come to the right spot, purposefully, at the correct time. As I was set free to explore the property for the next few hours, and I saw the ocean, the unlimited tea bar, the hot tubs, the beautiful kitchen, the garden, I continued to feel at ease with my choice to come here. I met my fellow volunteers: 8 of us all bunking down in the same big house, all coming to Hollyhock  from our own worlds, varying in age between 22-60. Each person is so interesting and we've been sharing really meaningful interesting conversations about the experience of life. I've been asked tough questions and having my eyes opened bigger and wider.  

Besides all that I have been swimming in the invigorating sea, went on a couple hikes-one where I was bombarded and stung by wasps multiple times, I've cycled up and down the Cortesian hills, been to the Cortes Island market, made a local friend or two, I've stargazed and wandered in the garden, played frisbee and soaked in the hot tubs, meditated and practiced yoga, eaten so much delicious food; oh, and done lots of dishes, chopped some veggies, cleaned many rooms, and made many a pot of coffee and tea. 

Gratitude has been filling me up this past week, and it seems fitting since it is the time where many folks give thanks for the harvest, for the gift of love and life. I feel very lucky to be in this place of extraordinary abundance, where I can pick apples from trees, walk into the woods in ten steps, fill my belly full of nutritious food at each meal,  go within myself, and feel supported doing so, connect and learn from new friends, and be happy doing karma yoga through labour. 

As I return to the theme that I started with in this blog post about realizing your life purpose, a theme which I am sure I will continue to come back to time and time again over the next weeks, and a theme many people come to Hollyhock to explore the idea of, I offer you another quote that fits so well within my life at the moment:

"I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve (or save) the world and a desire to enjoy (or savor) the world. This makes it hard to plan the day"  EB White

The beautiful traveller's curse

I recently read a piece of writing that serves as a warning for young travellers, essentially that the beautiful world that they explore and the interesting life that they lead is cursed. Because the relationships formed are short lived and special, but not necessarily meaningful, and the more places you explore, seeking a place that is ideal for you, the less likely it is that you will find that place worth settling down in. And once you do decide to set roots, it's difficult for anyone close to you to truly understand the experiences you've had. The piece of writing did resonate with me as I continue to explore and travel - there is some truth to the words, but geez reality made me a bit sad too. 

These thoughts about finding a best fit place and developing meaningful relationships has definitely come about for me this summer in Ontario. I was back in Ontario after some beautiful experiences and travelling on the West Coast, Australia, New Zealand. I found myself concerned about how my most loved people have felt over the past year and how our relationships have managed to thrive, or connection dwindle. I have made some far reaching connections on different continents of the world, and I questions if a life is more full of beauty when you have shorter interactions/relations with people of a variety of lifestyles, ethos, worldviews, or is a life more full of beauty when you set roots deep and have connected meaningful relations with fewer people? 

I'm still working on a balance of those two...and always remind myself that 'not all those who wander are lost'. (I still don't know who wrote this piece I'm referring to but please read it here and let me know what you think by commenting on this post)

I do know that I had a completely blissful summer. Still making new connections with really amazing people and making efforts to fill every other moment up with re-connecting, catching up and expressing my love for the people I know I definitely enjoy being with, whom I want in my life well and truly into the future and who I feel I may have neglected while being away. 

Geez, August was just so lovely! After having oodles of family around and celebrating Kelly's wedding, I spent a super pleasing week in Toronto catching up with people I love and visiting places I love too. I celebrated one more relatives wedding and then set out on a canoe trip on the French River with a family of 5 and a new friend. In two canoes filled up to the brim with gear and food, we paddled leisurely, swimming often, playing games with the kids, setting up camp spots and cooking food, having beautiful fireside chats about all things but mostly working less and living more, building sustainable alternative, creative communities, re-aligning priorities, forgetting about expectations, and recognizing that life is just stories created by each of us. I was inspired to be a parent by the way this family is and re-inspired to be creative about what and how we work. 

After the excitement of the canoe trip, I got to visit my sisters liffle farm and also my new friends' urban farm in Guelph. I spent a scattering of a couple more awesome days in Toronto over the next weeks, then scooted out to the Shelter Valley Folk Festival; a calm yet positively energetic music and community festival where I put a workshop on for Otesha about electronics from cradle to grave, I sat in the sun and listened to great music, danced under the full moon, and spent great time with a few special people. Beyond the community of people involved in planning the festival, I was feeling pleasantly on the fringe of the folk fest, I headed on to the Otesha Projects training week for two small teams riding this September/October throughout Ontario. 

As I already knew, I am still very in love with The Otesha Project, and the feeling of home that each event brings about that I'm involved in. The people are silly, hopeful, generous, full of hugs, they're creative, interested and interesting. The same Otesha quirks exist year after year, team after team. I rode with the 7 members of the phenomenal food tour for the first 4 days of their journey, an amazing privilege to be a resource of any sort to the team as they built community, visited farms and preformed the Otesha play. 

And September continued to be special as I attended one more ritualistic right of passage for my long time dear friend Elysia, as she was married to her favourite person. A joyous time to be spent with some of my very longest friends. 

Alas, after these wonderful summertimes, another journey abounds. I'm west bound again; with my bicycle in tow, heading for Vancouver, then riding up to Cortez Island to do a volunteer internship at Hollyhock. And as I bus my way west across this beautiful (huge) country of ours once again, I continually reflect on my past experiences and lessons learn. I think a bit about what future days will bring and I always remind myself of my mortality. This here life is only once, so I'm going to try my very best to love living it and cherish each moment. 

like a zucchini flower

I'm just so lucky.

I just saw so much family come together, to welcome yet another couple members into the family. My sister celebrated her love this past weekend at the cottage that my dad built a few years back. I saw my sister so healthy and happy, how wonderful...and I boogied and danced under a beautiful tent that covered the cottage drive.

I feel so grateful for all the beauty that has been in my life these days. I am so lucky to be able to live the life that I have been this summer, and I continue to have such wonderful adventures to look forward to. Great Lakes Commons Lake Ontario Tour, Pedal to Plate Otesha Tour, spending delicious time with friends in Ottawa, reconnecting with so many at the Hillside Festival, spending time at my sisters new country home, reconnecting with so many family members, and spending fun quality time preparing for a super fun event, developing new relations, building on old. Meeting lovely new people and learning. always always learning. So much cycling, jogging, swimming, chatting, reading, re connecting, challenging myself...

I feel nervous now though, a strange sensation. Hoping that I can maintain balance, that I can remain grounded among all these wondrous things that are happening. Hoping that I am giving enough to those that I love, and taking time to develop relationships that could blossom and bloom. 

Blossom and Bloom. 

My heart.

My mind.

My soul. 

Blossom and Bloom.

Pedaling to see what's on my Plate

Bicycles. Food. Bicycles and Food. Bicycles, Love, Food. Love. Food. Bicycles. 

Once again, I was privileged to participate in an Otesha cycling Tour. This time, rather then a two month long cycling and performing tour to spread messages of hope, empowerment and environmental sustainability to students, we were embarking on a 9 day tour in the Ottawa area to visit mushroom farms, goat farms, grain farms, an abattoir, vegetable farms, organic and conventional, big and small. As a 14 person group the tour participants were discovering where some of their food really comes from, and engaging in discussions about food security, food sovereignty, and food choices. We had a diverse representation of a number of different ways to grow food, and also a diverse representation of how to treat food, how to appreciate it, and how to effect change in our visibly troubled food system where the reliance on outside inputs is extremely common. What does all this mean? It means interested people had interesting conversations about a number of topics like: 

Migrant agricultural labour. Exploitation of employees at farms. It's quite possibly true that without short term migrant labour on Canadian farms, we would not have food on tables at the farmers market or at the supermarket. Agricultural workers are often not paid minimum wage. Canadians seem generally to be unwilling to do the labour involved with farming. 

Aboriginal stories and connections with their food, and a bit about how that has been warped and changed by European influences. We had a wonderful guest from the Anishinabe (Ojibway) people, who shared traditional knowledge about how food has played a role and still plays such a large roll in his peoples life styles and traditions. 

Food sovereignty. Sometimes referred to as food security. 1 in 6 people are food insecure. 3/4 of these folks are women. 90% of those that are food insecure are the farmers themselves. Monsanto and Cargill are two companies that basically control the entire food systems, by controlling seed stocks. We had a great panel of folks together to talk about food security at the international level, and at the national level (with a representative from Food Secure Canada and Ram's Horn), as well as the local level (one of the farmers at Roots and Shoots described the food system through his local lens as he organically farms the land). Please do click on some of the embedded links in the former sentences, the reading potential is endless on these issues. 

Community Supported Agriculture is important to organic farmers. And boy do those farmers work freakin' hard. Exploitation ensues, even on these organic small scale farms. Because food prices in the grocery stores are artificially cheap, and those 'expensive' prices you see on farmers market food? Actually still way too cheap to provide appropriate compensation for growers. 

Growing food takes inputs, and its amazing when farmers can have a closed loop at their farm, operating with permaculture at the centre of their practices, where all inputs are supplied by the land that you live on. 

Consumption of animal products. If the meat animals are raised in an ethical, fair, healthful way, is is a sustainable and ethical choice to consume animal products? Animal protein does take more resources (think water, space, food) per kg to grow, compared to plant protein. More often then not, animals are farmed in commercial, large scale operations where inputs such as food, water, electricity, and medicines are used, and the animals are treated quite poorly. People have a disconnect with the animals life, and often don't feel as though they could actually kill the animals they so readily are able to eat. But, animal poop is quite important for nourishing soil, avoiding one stream of inputs from outside sources. 

and the list goes on...

As we spoke among the group and one on one, everyone did so with passion, interest, curiosity and attention. Each person in the group created a safe and comfortable environment for folks to feel comfortable expressing where they are at in the spectrum of where they were in terms of food system knowledge and opinion. It felt great, supportive, at the same time silly and fun. 

Along on the tour we had a videographer, in fact, an Otesha Olumni who I spent time with after my very first Otesha Tour. She created a number of short video blogs. Here are two of my favourite:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LbcNcSXL6WU&list=UU4GBmpk1hLiSIgISkQ5gfJA&index=1&feature=plcp
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsiCXdsHO1s&feature=player_embedded

I'm still here in Ottawa, reveling in the post tour high, and also reconnecting with folks from last summer. Going for lots of bike rides, visiting swimming spots and farmers markets, cooking local yummies. It feels great, fun, hot, summery, fresh and old all at once. More on that later...


Love, Peace and bike grease always.

On the commons

I've been cycling now for a week with an intention - it feels slightly like an Otesha cycling and performing tour, where you are adventuring with a certain sense of hope, passion and intention.

The Commons - what is it, what is is about, who uses it, who manages it, who protects it? Well, I've been slowly learning the answers to these questions over the past week, as I've been cycling with Paul around Lake Ontario (one of the five greatest commons we have in Canada). The thing about the Commons, is that we all use it, own it and have a responsibility to manage and protect it. But in a democratic, capitaistic society, where collective and shared communal property has truned into private ownership, the idea of responsibility for the commons that we all share, stewardship for precious shared resources, somehow gets confusing and grey, lost in translation.

Paul and I pedalled off from Kitchener last week, and from the day we left, we definitely had water on the brain. We made an intention to try and swim every day, and ask others if they would swim where we landed, and to use this as sort of guage for water quality in Lake Ontario. Day one took us along through countryside, until we emerged in Cambridge along the Grand River, where we cycled to Brant Conservation area. Hankering for a swim, we were impressed to read that the conservation area had swimming. It wasn't until Paul went to investigate that we learned that it was not swimming in the Grand River that we would be doing, no, rather we would be swimming in a massive, bright blue chlorinated swimming pool, one that we later learned costs $100 000 to maintain throughout the year, while, the Grand River wasn't swimable, and could benefit from these funds used for environmental stewardship. It seemed so ironic. Even though we didn't swim in the river, we did walk along it, bike along it, and saw many canoeists, fisher people, and heard wonderful stories from a woman and her grand daughter in Paris, as we had lunch by the river.

Onwards to Hamilton, and our mission to swim during the day was amplified as the thermometers rose to scorching levels. Water was everywhere, sprinklers watering lawns (and driveways), public water fountains, and bottled water machines, big water parks and marshes, wetlands separated by the Hwy403, and at busy splashpads (think mini-water parks) beside a near empty Hamilton harbour beach. We made it to Lake Ontario via the escarpment in Dundas, and as we sat with our wonderful hosts in Hamilton, I came to know a bit more about the 'Hammer', a city so frequently in my mind considered filthy and polluted as mostly the only view I've had of the water surrounding it is coming over that horrible bridge and seeing all the steel industries at work. But our hosts loved their new home in Hamilton, and spoke of having hundreds of waterfalls at easy access on the escarpment, of the budding arts scene, and of funky neighbourhoods and affordable housing. Hmm, Hamilton eh? And as we cycled onwards throughout this city aiming for the waterfront trail, through a funky neighbourhood or two, and then through the industrial section of Hamilton, I totally began to think I was in an environmental documentary, one of those dramatic doom and gloom types:

Picture: loud trucks with invisible drivers, deserted streets, heat throbbing off the pavement, greenspace nowhere, smoke stacks reaching high into the sky, and two small people on their bicycles navigating through it all. Crossing over the 403 with traffic buzzing by, and onto the waterfront trail, we passed by a monstrous person made waterpark where a friendly over exubarant voice came on the loud speaker to advertise a new slide that they had at the park. I listened to this while while I looked to the empty, litter and aglae filled beach to my left. And the cranks on my pedals kept turning, through suburban streets on the 'waterfront trail' which was often a big house and yard or two away from the waterfront, as private ownership has dominated.

The documentary I felt I was in continued... We collected a few more stories from people when along the waterfront in the Niagara Region, between Beamsville and Niagara on the Lake. We spoke with a couple of people in Port Dalhousie, who just loved the lake, and had been close to it for a good deal of time in their lives. It was so engrained in their personhood.  Any concerns about Lake Ontario? What does stewardship mean to you? They expressed their concerns about a high rise condominium development due to be constructed in their beloved Lakeside Park, and about the algae blooms that are constant, and the smell that they bring with them. We heard people tell us how they just don't know what is going on with our waters, who is managing quality, water levels, what is being done to positively or negatively affect the state of Lake Ontario. So many unknowns.

We continued onwards to the super kitchy and quaint Niagara on the Lake, and then got mentally lost in the kerfuffle of the boarder crossing. As I got quizzed from boarder guards about "how I support myself" and we rode our bicycles into America, we landed at a cute little state park where we looked across Lake Ontario and watched the sunset beside the visible Toronto skyline. What a vantage point. Onwards along the Lake we went, all the way stopping at fruit and veggie stalls, and swimming in the Lake wherever we thought we could (including some algae and garbage ridden spots, and another spot where a few others said they wouldn't have swam where we did). It's a good qualitative judge of water quality: "would you swim in the lake?"

All the way to Rochester we went: having a memorable stop at Singer Naturals, where a family there has retrofitted a barn to be sustainable, endeavours to grow healthy organic foods, and brings community into their beautiful store and space for workshops and events. And let's not forget the Rochester Canoe Club, where Paul and I had the opportunity to help run a sailboat race, and talk to numerous interested sailors about thier love, connection and importance for the water. And the generosity kept coming, as we met our hosts from a cycling/travelling website Chris and Kate, wonderful interested folks. And as we watched water fall over the escarpment in Rochester I thought once more about what this beautiful resource really means.

It means life.

I made a song up recently, picture, me, in my camp song voice chanting it, 'repeat after me style' - wish I could sing it for you here, but instead will type it:

Were going on a bicycle ride,
to hear, heaps, of stories,
about how water means life!
For the plants, the animals, the people too,

So were going on a bicycle ride,
to talk to people, young and old,
about how water is a common resource!
So treat water with respect,
so we have it for years to come.

Abundance at Maeve Gardens

I spent my last month in Australia getting to know a wonderful group of women, a beautiful piece of land, a vibrant and colourful community, and my own aspirations. 

What a month indeed. I arrived in Lismore, with my bicycle Poppy in tow, back at the beginning of May. Nervous and excited to meet up with my host, who I would be working with for 4 hours a day doing gardening, house building and property/bush maintenance in return for a place to stay and food, I arrived in the dark in Lismore, in the Northern Rivers area of New South Wales. 

I quickly sorted out who was who on this lovely piece of land where 7 people live in 4 different homes, and I deliciously explored the weird and wonderful sub-tropical food bearing plants in all the gardens, and asked numerous questions about what was what in the garden and critter world. My hosts were nothing short of dedicated, inspiring, knowledgeable and fun to be around. Jally knew heaps about rainforest regeneration, about local and state politics, about the movement to oppose coal seam gas development in their rich agricultural area, about  the local aboriginal tribes, and about beautiful forests to visit, waterfalls to swim in, and adventures to be had. Lazuli was an amazing fire-side chatter, I learned from her about Re-evaluation Co-counseling and the benefits it can have in activist (or any community) whereby people discharge and are aided by their peers in discovering negative oppressive patterns that they may be practicing. I was welcomed by Lazuli on numerous adventures to visit her friend Sue and her beautiful permaculture garden (I got familiar with the concept of mulch, mulch, mulch), where I learned about more weird and wonderful foods that grow in this area of the world (finger limes, jackfruit, pawpaw, cassava anyone?) and I was patiently taught how to weave baskets out of things from the garden. I was inspired by Lazuli's passion for her garden for growing more food, and by her dedication to anti-nuclear activism. Mostly, I was so amazed to spend time in the special home that Lazuli and her partner Heidi had designed and built themselves, including complex sounding physics and measurements to determine the direction that the windows needed to face at what time of year to maximize summer warmth and minimize summer heat, and the materials that they would use for their home (nearly ALL reclaimed materials!) Heidi was a positive and enthusiastic home builder, and artist, practicing her viola and directing her band's (Deep Blue) new show to go on tour shortly. Deva inspired me with her clothing company whereby she took old and used clothes and redesigned them into new beautiful pieces of art, many complete with her silkscreened prints worked into it. All of these ladies cooked and got together for a meal once a week, and worked together on their land for a day every fortnight, and had a community meeting every fortnight as well. Truly a great bunch of women who a learned a great deal from, whom I received a great abundance from as well.

Abundance. Such a word. A word that seriously describes Maeve Gardens well.

While I was staying at Maeve Gardens, I was living in the space that I affectionately learned was called Ishtar, a colourful caravan which used to be used on the road for a travelling puppet show, was open to the environment, had just a bed and a table for my things, and not much else in terms of physical components. My toilet was the grass and a neighbouring bush bucket, my running water a hose from the rainwater tank, and the electricity for lights was supplied by the small solar panel. Some might call this living arrangement simple, but to me it was huge - filled with such an abundance.

I had an abundance of luxuriously great sleeps in that caravan cozy under the doona and the mosquito net and waking up to the abundance of beautiful Australian bird calls as I watched the sunrise with abundant beauty out the window of the caravan, down into the valley. There was an abundance of evening noises, from the bandicoots and cane toads rustling, to the shrill and deathly sounding koalas that I heard one day in the very early hours of the morning (seriously one was making this sound, and the other was making this noise, it was an intense way to wake up!) There was an abundance of herptiles; from the resident python that spend many of its days sunning itself at Ishtar, to the venomous brown snakes, the tree snakes and the plentiful lizards. There was an abundance of wallabies. There was an abundance to learn about the plants and the edible fruit trees that seemed to be growing everywhere. There was an abundance of beautiful food always being offered and shared. Macadamias, pawpaw, mandarins, limes, lemons, oranges, kiwis, bananas, and more. There was an abundance of beauty all around, from the physical environment of my surroundings, to the spirits and energy of Lazuli, Heidi, Jally, Deva and their friends. I felt so lucky to be a part of such a beautiful community. There was an abundance of beautiful bicycle rides to go on, magical rainforests to tramp through, and alternative towns to explore. There was an abundance of alternative, creative, dedicated people in the broader Northern Rivers area that we were in.  There was an abundance of inspiration as I learned about how two women who knew little about building, designed and built their own off the grid, reclaimed material home from the ground up. Hearing them tell me what they had accomplished really made me dream...There was just so much of everything, even though I was living 'simply'.

The generosity was certainly abundant as well. Heidi and Lazuli gave so much of their time and energy towards working along side me, towards showing my around their home and surroundings, teaching me and inspiring me. They even invited my sister to come up from Sydney for my last weekend on the farm - a time full of hiking, walking, exploring and fireside chats, a time which I will certainly cherish.

Maeve Gardens was a beautiful experience, and surely, the people, the nature, the food - they will draw me back.

The resident Python near where I was sleeping :)

Cute little Koala visitor

Anti Coal Seam Gas Rally in Lismore

Waterfalls were abundant

Ishtar - my lovely gypsy caravan home!

Sue and me - my permaculture/circus/basket weaving friend (check out that basket I made!)

Searching for whales in the ocean at Evans Head (yep saw some!)

Looking over the garden from Ishtar - heaps of macadamia nut  plantations

Lazuli, Krista, moi, Hyungeong, Heidi inside L&H homemade home 

Lazuli moving some of the weeds that we were pulling out - soon to be turned to mulch!

Full moon AND lunar eclipse for my last night at Maeve

Southen Highlands of NSW on two wheels

What a great weekend! I'm lucky enough to have tagged along on my friend Brian's weekend long bicycle trip in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales. Here I got to experience the Australian fall, wait, I mean, autumn, as very few Native Australian trees are of the deciduous type that have their leaves 'fall' off. It's real neat to see the weather and season changing here in Australia, a place where as a kid growing up, I just thought it was always summer!

We checked out Morton National Park, Fitzroy Falls, Kangaroo Valley, camped in two beautiful spots (trying real hard to keep our toes toasty!), where we saw heaps of wombats wandering under the near full moon and fog, and I was warned over and over about Drop Bears, which are known to inhabit the area we were camped in :) After a beautiful, long climb out of the valley, we popped up on the other side of Australia's Great Dividing Range, where we cruised down to the warmer, coastal town of Kiama, known for it's picturesque lighthouse and active blowholes. 

(an aside - before getting to Kiama, we had a longish climb on a 4 lane highway, the only route we could take. There was no shoulder space for us to cycle on, so we took up one of the two northbound lanes, to ensure we were safe as we put putted our way up the hill, which is a perfectly legal act in Australia. And forgive me in advance, but some of the drivers were so horrible. I felt my positivity waning as I trudged up the hill, people screaming out their windows, and more people honking, and even more people speeding UP to pass us! This made me feel unsafe, vulnerable, hated, and hopeless for sustainable transportation at that moment. I wanted to scream and cry! Luckily, I had jolly old Brian at my side, who didn't back down and just kept on pedaling. Please please please if you are a driver who's never rode a bicycle on a busy road, know that as a cyclist you often feel so vulnerable; and sure, we choose to put ourselves in that situation, but we should be able to feel safe being where we are allowed to be, just as much as you should. And yes, you have places to go, people to see, things to do - and so do cyclists! Know also that we have hundreds of cars pass us, you don't know as a driver how the motorists 5 cars up have just made us feel, and you also have a body of steel surrounding you whereas cyclists do not. So be generous with the amount of space you give us, slow down, and try to see us as a normal part of the road system, not an anomaly. BIG GRATITUDE to those drivers who do give cyclists heaps of space, and who are patient when they pass, you have to know how appreciated this is!)

Whew, okay, sorry for the rant, but it belongs. The weekend as a whole was amazing, I felt so lucky to experience more of New South Wales on my bicycle, and had a great friend to do the exploring with! The weekend was capped off by a spectacular moon rise over the ocean seen clearly from the train window en route back to Sydney - mesmerizing. 

Autumn colours were visible on these non-native trees in Bowral, NSW.

'The Grotto' - one of the sights on our walk at Fitzroy Falls

The Valley from one of the many lookouts over the weekend!

Scene from my tent early on Sunday Morning

Kiama - our final destination and view from our picnic lunch spot

Farming, cycling, what's next, sydney

Hi Friends.

I've been back in Sydney for a couple weeks again. With Anthony around, I had someone to hang out with during the day, and we had a good time exploring some of Sydney's spectacular beaches, walking over the Sydney Harbour bridge, checking out the eclectic Newtown, going to an Aussie Rules Football game, and cooking and enjoying delicious food in Krista and Tua's home.  And let's not forget the joy of a visit from Tua's daughter Jet - I had so much fun being the kid I am with her - crafting, colouring, cooking, going to the park, and playing fun games!

But alas, Anthony headed north to the Great Barrier Reef, while I stayed behind to plot my next adventure. Krista and I had some really nice cozy movie nights with delicious food. I got out on two amazing day long (110km+ long!) cycling adventures with my friend Brian; one day we headed south to the Royal National Park, and followed the coast back to Sydney, and just this past weekend, under the Autumn sunshine we cruised up to Ku-Ring-Guy Chase National park.  This weekend, I will embark on another small cycling trip to the Southern Highlands in the near surrounds of Sydney, with my new bike buddie Brian! He's a good tour guide he is...

And while I've been spending the past week researching, reading, catching up, connecting and trying to plot out my next month or so, including my return to Canada, I have been caught up in a whirlwind of "what comes next". I go through this emotion quite regularly. It's cyclical I think, I plan a month or so, feel great while embarking on that month or so, and then feel a little bit lost again when that part is over and nothing certain lies ahead. It's like I appreciate and am comfortable with where I am, and then suddenly, I am no longer. All  while I meditate at yoga, time and time again, to just be present and satisfied. Plan, yes a little, think, yes, a lot. But just be satisfied. Be grateful, be loving, be here, now. 

I'm heading out next Tuesday for the North Coast of New South Wales, which sure sounds like it is full of souls searching, souls finding, and souls living sustainably! I'm going to live for a couple weeks at a permaculture style hobbie/vegetable farm. I'll be living in the host's caravan, cooking and eating and working with them in the garden, and on a number of sustainable building projects that they have going on on their property! I'm looking forward to it. I will take my bicycle along, and do some riding in the area while I'm up there, hopefully exploring Lismore, Byron Bay, Nimbin, Mullumbimby and Brisbane. Perhaps I will ride southbound, and stay at another farm en route back to Sydney for the beginning of June, for I am, achem, returning to Canada on June 12! I can hardly believe it, but I will have to bid farewell to the absolute normalcy, pleasure and comfort of seeing Krista and Tua each day, and be surely shocked back home into Ontario, nearly a year late from when I left it. Jeez, life is a beautiful, precious, loving, whirlwind...

 Sydney Opera House by night, photo taken from up on the harbour bridge

 The family in Australia, Krista, me, Anthony, Tua, with a Rick Lawrence original peaking out on photo left!

Me at the North Head lookout in Sydney Harbour National Park on a looong ride with Brian

Otago Penninsula - can you see the penguins?

Sea Lions for lunch in the Catlins

Nugget Point

About to enter the Homer Tunnel en route to Milford Sound

Queenstown Hill hike

Ice cave that I climbed up through on Franz Joseph Glacier

Anthony and I rocking the cramp-ons

Franz Joseph Glacier

Pancake Rocks, west coast

Abel Tasman National Park - this is the bay we camped on for the night

Full moon rising

Lake Tekapo

Hooker Valley

Aoraki/Mount Cook at sunset