Navajo story written in stone, Canyon De Chelly, Arizona

After graduating from University I decided to pack up my belongings and head for Vietnam, a country that had long captured my imagination.  There was talk of finally opening the borders and I was keen to be there when they did.  My parents graciously allowed me to store my things in their garage with my promise to be back in four months time.  Seventeen years later I returned having never gotten to Vietnam.  Well, unless you count the inner tube crossing of the Mekong River.  Militia were quick to greet me and inspire a hasty return to the murky brown waters.  Needless to say, I discovered that the journey is the destination.

Vietnams still awaits, even now.  And who knows, I might just get there when least expected (like on a trip to Alaska).  I have developed a rather notorious reputation as a serial meanderer, often ending up in the exact opposite place I intended.  But oh what fun and discoveries have been uncovered along the way.  Four months turned into seventeen years rather quickly.   And isn’t that what journeys are really about?  They inspire you to take aim, then live them to the fullest.

On walkabout this Fall, I found myself driving from Canyon De Chelly, Arizona to Albequerque, New Mexico.  After a life full of ‘left turns at Albequerque’ I thought it would be kind of neat to actually BE in Albequerque for a change.  On the outskirts of town, I spotted a sign along the highway pointing to an Arts & Crafts sale at a nearby Pueblo and found myself drawn towards it.

Upon arrival I noticed a man sitting alone, under a tree, quietly working on a stone sculpture with some power tools.  There were buffalo grazing behind him and I couldn’t resist shouting out a greeting, “nice office”!  He laughed and we got to talking.  A sudden rainstorm came pouring down and I offered shelter in my car.

James and I chatted about all kinds of things during that sudden storm, but mostly we talked about the cross Canada/US trip I was currently on and where I had been.  I was delighted to find he not only knew some of the out of the way places I came through but that he himself had visited them as a young man.

He had been to the Indian reserves  in Cypress Hills, Sask. (my birthplace) and up the North Coast of B.C., as well as several other near invisible dots on the Canadian map.  One of his favourite memories was fishing and smoking salmon with the Haida people in Northern British Columbia.  What he wouldn’t give to one day taste that heavenly fish again!  I listened, enjoying his company when it struck me.  Somewhere tucked away in the back of my car’s trunk I had exactly what he wished for; a traditionally smoked salmon!  I had been saving it for a special occasion and if this wasn’t it, I don’t know what was.

I don’t think this journey really is written in stone.  We make it up as we go along.  Just like Vietnam,  I haven’t yet got to be in Albequerque.  Life got in the way, thank goodness.  I thought I was headed there, but in truth, I was on a mission to hand deliver a smoked salmon fish to a fine Navajo sculptor as he sat wishing out loud for just such a thing.  Ain’t life grande?

Walking the Camino

The best teacher I’ve ever come across is life itself.  It constantly offers up opportunities, hurdles, challenges and incredible adventure.  Lord knows, it’s never dull and we get to choose how we play.  We can let it define us just as easily as we can choose how we want to shape it.  Our choice.. What story do we want to tell?  How do we want to see our journey so far?  Can we actually allow ourselves to believe that we are the creators of our lives and not at the whim and mercy of circumstance?

I remember some years ago in Brazil I was chatting with a vivacious girl, no more than 10 who in introducing herself to me said “I wasn’t always a positive person.. I was 7 yrs old before I knew I had a choice’.  Well.. that bowled me over. (not to mention that she seemed to think 7 was a ripe old age to be working out something so darn simple).  At the time,  I was still struggling with the awareness that I could really create my world.  I doubted it and myself.  Here she was, so much younger and infinitely wiser than I, offering me an incredible learning.  Choice.  We always have it, even when we forget.  And isn’t it comforting to know that it isn’t going anywhere?  We can always choose anew.  Put aside the old story and all that it carries.  Put it down and look again with fresh eyes.  In this moment, how do we want to see it now?  Stories make up our life and how we define ourselves.  Hi-story, my-story.. It’s how we learn.  And we have the power to create it anyway we want.

Over the years and miles I have recorded some incredible stories of people and their life journeys.  Some of which I look forward to sharing with you because I think they might very well touch your heart in similar ways that they have mine. I know anything is possible.  It is the one thing I have learned over and over again.  And believe me, I’ve been a slow learner at times.  Einstein once said ” Your imagination is your preview of life’s coming attractions”.  And so, in this space I will share some stories with you.  Ones that fill my heart and teach me that everything is possible if you so choose.