Loving what is

Day 8 Bisham Abbey dock enroute to Bermuda. Our last morning on Sancerre. The sun streaming through the windows yet again. Light coming in to wake us let us know it is time to go. Time to leave the Thames and go back to reality. Taking our memories with us. Worrying about the journey back and what tomorrow will bring.

We are all fairly subdued getting everything packed away and Sancerre clean so we could to leave it  in a similar fashion to the way David handed it to us. The swans coming to the window as soon as we open it. Hissing at us to give them food. They are so beautiful. So regal. Sticking their beaks in the window looking for food. My daughter throwing food out to them. And we are ready before 9 am, when we hand Sancerre back over to David. None of us really wanting to leave but knowing we have to go.

David arriving at 8.45. The taxi there for us at 8.55. A larger taxi this time - a van. They’ve obviously been forewarned about our luggage. Hugging David like we are long lost friends. A connection made for a reason. Even the swans hanging at the dock as if they are seeing us off.

Our journey to Gatwick from Maidenhead is nowhere near as challenging as our journey getting there. We go from taxi to train to train to airplane. Time folding in on itself once we land in Bermuda. From river scenery to ocean scenery. From greens to blues. Stepping off the airplane, we know we are home when the humidity takes our breath away and everything suddenly becomes limp. Bermuda’s way of welcoming us home. Heat and humidity. Colours and light.

As we drive home in the taxi, all of us exhausted, giving us time to go into our own thoughts and reflect. Giving me time to realise my life really isn’t that bad. How many people can go on vacation to beautiful and idyllic scenery like the Thames to return to equally beautiful and idyllic scenery like Bermuda and call it their home as I can? How often do we take for granted what is there in front of us because we are always projecting for something more. Always searching rather than being.

Sure I was sad to leave the Thames but what I realise now more than ever is that’s what vacations are for when we really surrender to them. Vacations are meant to help us to take a step back from our everyday lives. To remind us to stop existing and remember how to have fun. How to live.  To go within. To shut out the outside world. To recharge. And you know what that’s exactly what I did on this vacation. I surrendered wholeheartedly to my family. To the journey. To the silence.

And when I went to bed last night I thanked the Universe for allowing me to tap into the abundance that is within me and all of us – the abundance of love, of gratitude, of faith. To know that everything is unfolding as it is meant to be. And as long as I am true to who I am, life will always allow me even more abundance and love. And for all of my blessings I am truly grateful.

It’s unbelievable to think night before last I went to bed on the Sancerre on the Thames in a completely different country. And that I went to bed last night in my own bed and woke up in my own bed this morning in my Island home of Bermuda. The light of the moon streaming through my windows welcoming me back home. The familiar sounds of the tree frogs and the familiarity of my home comforting me. Everyone still asleep as I type. My brain going a thousand miles an hour with thoughts bombarding me about what happens next.

Nervous about going back to work after being out for two weeks. But knowing the shape of the day is up to me. Like that little girl I became cycling through Henley on Thames. Throwing herself to the wind and to fate. Letting her journey be more important than the destination. So shall I, the grown woman, wife and mother I am today. So shall I.

And then I did my meditation for the day with Deepak Chopra and lo and behold the theme today was Loving what is. A message and gift from the Universe letting me know that today is a brand new day meant to be lived and unfold as per the Divine Plan. Without attachment. Without ego. Without expectation. Accepting my life as it is not as what I believe it is meant to be. Allowing me to connect with my true nature. Loving what it is. Thank you Deepak Chopra and the Universe once again for reminding me even in the midst of everything we can always find peace because we are products of our beliefs. Namaste.

To endings and beginnings

Day 7 and our final full day on the Thames. Waking up to the sun streaming through our windows and it was only 6 am. Feeling Sancere rocking for the first time on our journey because the River was much busier in Henly on Thames. Boats coming back and forth all night long. And people don't seem to take the no wake zone seriously.

Feeling a darkness trying to envelope me as a profound sadness came over me. Knowing our time of bliss is coming to an end. It was almost time to go back out into the real world away from our Utopia. I meditated to shift the darkness. To allow it to pass through me. To allow myself to feel it. And let it go.

After coming out of my meditation, I had a strong desire to go for a bike ride. To be in nature. To embrace the child in me so that I could bring myself back to the present moment. Tossing all my worries aside. To leave space for the little girl in me to be free. Following my instincts telling me to bike ride.

I rode in the opposite direction to where my inner voice was telling me to go.  Resisting the voice in my head because I wanted to see what was down the path ahead of me. But all I found was a dead end. So I turned back and instead of  following my instincts, I again, followed a  different path to the path my whole being was willing me to take. Only to met up with yet another dead end. Frustrating me because I knew the Universe was showing me my life. Showing me that I know where I am meant to go. I know which path I am meant to take but I am choosing not to go down that route and as a result I am encountering roadblock after roadblock.

Getting the message loud and clear, I decided to follow my inner voice and go down the path I should have gone down in the first place. Only to encounter yet another roadblock. This time I was perplexed.  What was the universe trying to tell me? I rode back to the barge and told my husband that I could not get out of our mooring site on the bike. The only way out was to walk. He then walked with me to the fence and helped me to put the bike over the fence and off I rode. Knowing this time that the Universe was telling me that sometimes it's okay to ask for help. Okay to let people know when I am facing roadblocks so that they can help me. That I am not always capable of doing it on my own.

Once I started to ride, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and abandon as I pedalled like the little girl in me used to when I was young. Riding to places unknown. Along paths unseen. But not afraid to explore. Not afraid to see where the paths took me. And then I was surprised to find I ended up exactly where I wanted to be at the Sunday market in Henly on Thames. Wandering around like a local with my bike and backpack. Feeling proud of myself for going for it. Opening to the locals. Chatting about life with them.

Purchasing food for our breakfast fresh from the market. Stopping to pick up the newspapers. Riding back and getting caught in a pack of riders saying good morning to me like I was one of them. Until they left me in the dust and I was alone again. Getting the bike back through the fence on my own because I knew how. And because I wasn't afraid.

Feeling really good about myself. Ready to take on any challenge after that. The darkness replaced with lightness and love. Leaving me bursting with possibility. Realising  I am as I am where I am because I have chosen to be and it is up to me to change direction whenever I am ready and with help if need be.

After sitting on the deck eating our breakfast out in the bright sunshine and talking to more locals who stopped by to chat with us, we set off on our final leg back to Bisham Abbey. As we left the mooring, the sky suddenly darkened. For the first time since we had Sancerre the weather looked less than promising. But we cast off anyway. As we motored down the river, the sky grew got darker and darker. The air suddenly chilly. The river taking on a menacing colour, murky, dark. An ominous feeling hung in the air but we kept going.

Just as we reached our first lock of the day, Hambledon, a squall came through bringing with it strong wind, rain and a thunderstorm complete with fork lightning. As we tried to moor in the layby, the wind caught the stern and pushed it away from the layby. Our son having secured the bow line too tight for us to get it off so we were stuck. My husband shouting instructions for us to get Sancerre back on track. Eventually we were able to secure the stern enough to slacken the tension on the bow so that we could get the bow line off in time to get through the lock. We were relieved to have that lock behind us - the most tricky experience we had for the whole journey.  Pleased that we encountered the bad weather and the lock when we knew how to handle Sancerre.

Then the heavens opened after we motored through the lock, my husband asking for his rain pants as fork lightning flashed all around him. Our daughter taking refuge in her lower bunk so she could not hear the thunder or see the lightning. I ran around Sancerre securing windows to protect Sancere from getting too wet on the inside.

And then just like that, the squall passed. Half hour of what we could have experienced for the whole journey was nothing. Recognising England was trying to give us a taste of what she could really be like so we would not be lulled into any false expectations. Then the sun came back out causing steam to rise up out of the river like mist angels. The whole countryside glistening after the rain.

Before we knew it we were at the next lock, Temple, which was a breeze compared to the experience we had at Hambledon. Close behind Temple was our last lock of our journey, Hurley. As we neared it, we felt very nostalgic. To know we were now at the end of our time on the River. No more locks to go through. That was it. And when I threw my lines for the buoy I missed. The lockeeper let me try one more time and I missed again. So I threw the lines to her admitting defeat. Too caught up in trying to look like a pro rather than just doing what I had to do. Humbling me.

Once Bisham Abbey came into view, our feelings were mixed - a sense of relief that we had made it back safely but also a sense of sadness that our time on the river was definitely nearing the end. The sun coming out in its full glory as we were docking letting us see the Thames at its best. The trees gently shaking their leaves in the breeze. The Abbey looking quite majestic. The Universe rewarding us by giving us a breathtaking end to our journey. And then as we moored, the sky darkened again, obscuring the sun. The temperature dropped. But we were done. On the mooring until the morning when we hand the keys back over to David.

Turning to my husband saying how sad it was that time had passed by so quickly. Him looking at me with moist eyes saying that time had not passed too quickly. That it was just right. Perfect. A dream come true.

And he was right, it was perfect in every way. Not perfect in the sense that everything went according to plan. But perfect in the way that allows margin for error without judgement, resentment or malice. Perfect in the way that allowed us as a family to work together as a team. Be together as a family. Grow together in our experience on the river. And to just be in the present moment. Not knowing what was around the corner but still just going for it.

Ironically we moored at about the same time as when we had arrived one week before to board Sancerre. Marvelling at how different we were as a family and how we felt compared to when we arrived. Realising time has a way of changing us, enlightening us, guiding us and teaching us as long as we are open and receptive. And for this journey on the River Thames with my family I am truly grateful. And to the Universe for giving us the best weather to experience the River Thames in her glory. To endings and beginnings.  To journeying.

No two journeys are the same

Day 6 on the Thames. Waking up to the sound of a blaring alarm. Sitting upright. Not sure what the noise was, where it was coming from nor what to do with it. Falling over my daughter who had crept into our bed to shut the noise off.
Locating it on my cell phone. Shutting it off. Sleep lulling me back to bed. But I told myself I had to stay up as this was the price I had to pay for having a lazy afternoon the day before. So reluctantly I forced myself to stay up. Opening the windows to see what the day was like. And I was pleasantly surprised to see a partly cloudy sky. The weather that was threatening to come through seemingly past. The promise of another beautiful day dawning.
I used my alone time to meditate. To go into that place of silence. To give thanks for all that I have and am about to receive. To give thanks for all that I am and all that I have been and all that I am becoming. To savour the moment of silence.
We set off half an  hour earlier than we thought we would. Our daughter was fast asleep so we decided not to disturb her. Our son, on the other hand, jumping up when he heard the engine starting. Not wanting to miss out on his duties. Making my husband proud of his son. The morning perfect by the time we cast off. The clouds giving way to blue skies. The river like a mirror. What a perfect way to start our day and equally for the start of the Olympics.
I had just put the eggs on to boil when we came upon our first lock for the day. Quicker than any of us thought. So I went rushing to the stern forgetting about the eggs on the stove. Then when I remembered I panicked but there was nothing I could do except concentrate on helping us to get through the lock. Praying the eggs did not burn.
As we approached the Mapledurham lock, the self service sign was still on but we saw the lockeeper making his way to the gates. Relief flowed through me. As I remembered Mapledurham to be quite a beast. But we were quickly discovering that approaching the lock from upriver was nowhere near as intimidating as when we were coming upriver. Instead of rising 6 ft 10 in, we dropped that level so the lock was not as strong. Which meant I didn't have to hold on to the lines as tightly, saving my soft hands from developing calluses I thought.
Once we got through the lock, the weir that seemed so imposing on our way up seemed so much tamer as we glided effortlessly out of the lock and out of the reach of the weir's currents. Once again entering an oasis of green on either side of us.
Before I knew it, we were back at Caversham Boat Services topping up our water supplies. The journey down river, now that we have our river legs and consider ourselves true river rats, was going much faster and smoother than we had anticipated. A totally different experience between Friday and Saturday. Reminding me not to hold on to the past. To just stay in the moment because each moment is different from the next. Each experience different from the previous. Each a stepping stone to the present moment. Not a determinant for what is to come. But an indication of where we have been and how we have arrived. I am grateful for my journey on the River Thames for reminding me of this lesson.
Water supply replenished. Duck food for my daughter. Purchasing something from the reception at the Caversham Bost Services to support them so they can continue to provide their invaluable service to boaters. The sun big and bright. Joy coursing through my veins as we cast off again to the next lock.
Surprised yet again by how quickly we reached the Caversham lock. The layby at Caversham was at an angle and had a very narrow entryway so our ability to see what was heading our way was limited. Forcing us to enter cautiously to leave room for error. And were we glad  we did because just as we thought we were in the clear and were making our approach,  we spotted a large Dutch barge coming our way. My husband shouted orders for us to get Sancerre tied up to the layby quickly until we knew for sure there were no more boats coming out. The lock was very busy - 4 boats had already come out of the lock and there were 6 more in it waiting for their turn. So we sat at the layby waiting patiently for our turn. When we got into the lock, we had to do a double take because the same lockeeper we had met at Mapledurham was now at the Caversham lock. Reminding us where we had seen him.
We came slightly further down river and tried to approach the dock for Tesco as we needed a small top up of supplies and got somewhat entangled by a tree that was overhanging more than we thought. The tree seemed like it was trying desperately to steal the bike off the roof in exchange  for us trying to steal its shade. As if equipped with superpowers,  my husband leapt on the roof in one single bound, snatching the bike out of the grasp of the tree just as it was about to toss it overboard. Pulling it safely to the other side of the roof. But not being totally unscathed scratching his elbows and knees in the process. Declaring it only a flesh wound and reversing Sancerre out of the overhanging tree. Just as he did, two boats pulled off the dock with no overhanging trees.  Leaving us more than enough room to dock. Excitement over for the moment.  And back to the mundane task of getting supplies. But learning that when we are patient, life always gives us what we need.
Our journey down river was nowhere near as intimidating as the day before. Nowhere near as frightening as  our journey coming up. Was it because we knew what to anticipate or had we just become a better team because we knew what to expect. Whatever the reason it felt so much smoother and easier even when we encountered circumstances we had not anticipated. Proving that when we surrender, we trust more and let go more which takes the fear and struggle out of the picture replacing them with faith and love. With clarity of thought. Without inteference.
We pulled into Sonning Lock forgetting how beautifully kept this lock was. Remembering when we saw the hollyhocks as tall as us. But the friendly lockeeper we met on the way up was not working much to our disappointment. A volunteer as his replacement. But friendly just the same. There was a small motor boat behind us. A young couple. Appearing to be newly dating. He trying to impress her. Them standing on the dock as the lock emptied oblivious to the amount of water rushing out of the lock. Profiling instead. The lockeeper asking the male if they wanted to get back into the boat or stay on the dock. She looking down and seeing how far she had to jump. Panic coming into her eyes. He talking on his cell phone trying to play it cool answering the lockeeper by saying they will stay on the dock. The lockeeper shrugging his shoulders as if to say it's on you mate. The young woman pleaded with her new beau. He relented and helped her to jump onto the boat from about 5 feet up. Everyone watching them. They both landed safely on the boat. Disaster averted. Then the lock opened and they were through as were we.
Motoring on we came upon the bridge that had caused us some trouble on the way up. It's amazing how the brain retains the fear from before. Imprinting there is danger ahead. The bridge looking just as intimidating as it did on the way up. A sharp angle to the right to get to the middle of the bridge. My husband approaching the bridge with caution and then I heard him swear. Looking up I saw why. My heart in my throat. Coming straight at us was a motoryacht. Forcing us to divert course. Slow down. Let it pass us by. Then regaining control of Sancerre to get her back on course to head straight through the centre arch of the bridge. Relief flooding through us as we did. Like pros.
And then hunger pangs hit. It was about 1.30 so we decided to find a place to moor for lunch. The first mooring site we came across was charging 20 pounds. So we motored right on by.  Deciding it wasn't worth it since we had visited the village on the way up. Instead we decided to forego Sonning and head for Shiplake, a new village, a new place to explore. Time was on our hands anyway. There was no hurry because we were coming down river much faster than we had anticipated. No stress. No worries. The children tired from being up so late the night before. All of us relaxed and just going with where the journey wanted to take us for the day.
All hopes of lunching at the St. George and Dragon were dashed when the newly dating couple decided to moor their 14 foot boat in the middle of the dock leaving no space for anyone else let alone Sancerre's 60 feet. We continued on - passing one beautiful home after the other. The real estate getting decidely more expensive as we neared Henly on Thames. The village looking very different to the one we stopped in days before. The river and banks teeming with boats and people. Much to our dismay, we had cruised right into the middle of a regatta. The waterways changed. New routes mapped out. Some quite confusing with a sign pointing to Regatta and in small print Other Boats. We started down the lane to go through the Regatta and as we got closer we realised we needed to be outside of the sign. We took comfort in knowing we weren't the only ones confused by the signage. As there were others just as confused as we were.
We then had to motor through the town trying to find a safe and convenient place to moor because it was going to be our home for the night. As we were looking, we spotted the friendly dockmaster we had met on the way up and he showed us where  to moor. My husband making a precise and tight turn in the middle of the river so we could take up the mooring. Mission accomplished. We moored. My husband quite proud of his skills.
By the time we moored, the evening had turned from overcast to blue skies. A warm evening light filling the sky. There were rowers on the Thames racing. Lots of boats and people around. A definite festive atmosphere. We walked into town, a lovely walk through the back streets as we had to moor on the opposite side to where we had been before because of the regatta. And we were pleased we did because it gave us the opportunity to see the town from a different vantage point. To walk through residental areas and see the way people live. Making us feel like locals.
We ate at The Argyle, which had been recommended by the dockmaster, for the second time and were not disappointed. Eating far too much food because we had missed lunch. So the half hour walk back was actually a welcome reprieve for me. Looking  at and smelling the beautful roses snaking up the outside of several of the homes enroute. Our children chasing each other down the street. My husband and I walking arm in arm. Appreciating the perfection we were experiencing in that moment. Storing it for when times are tough.  
When we got back to Sancerre, my husband lit the woodstove just for the ambiance and we settled down to watch the Olympics. Another wonderful family day. Another day of seeing life from a different perspective. Missing out on seeing the flasher on the way back. Disappointed that he was not out in full form. Particularly since I had my camera ready to snap a photograph of him to see what he would do. But I guess it wasn't in the cards. Not seeing our home for sale because we came down the river on the other side telling me it was not meant to be. The challenges we faced and the experiences we had going up were not meant to be the same as when we journeyed  back down.
The journey much quicker. Getting all the way to Henley on Thames in one day. Cruising along. Just going for it and seeing where it took us. The view outside our window  is incredible and unbelievable. Like something out of a story book. And then it hit me, it was a storybook. Our own, the very one we are living every single day. Feeling a warmth spread through me. Full of love. I silently said thank you to the Universe. For understanding no two journeys are the same.

50 Shades of Green on the Thames

Day 5 on the Thames. Our day for turning around and heading back to where we came from. A day for heading down river to go back to Maidenhead. An ending of our up river journey opening us for the beginning of our down river journey.  Reminding me to every ending there is a beginning and vice versa.
Yesterday morning was not as perfect as the other mornings. Clouds heavy in the sky obscuring much of the light. Every once in a while the sun tried its hardest to peak through. The air cooler. My children sleeping in again tired from our late night the night before. My husband up and on the deck doing his Yoga stretches with mist curling in the background.
When our son got out of bed, he immediately got on his bike and peddled along the towpath. A man coming to ask my husband's advice about how to get a narrow barge that had grounded off the bank. My husband chuffed that the man thought he was such an expert. Giving him advice and the man was able to get the barge off the bank. Another mission accomplished.
Nearly one hundred ducks and geese flying, swimming, quacking, making lots of noise as they moved by the boat. My daughter racing to the stern to feed them. Using all of our bread. I'm not sure if the locals would be pleased that she fed the geese because we read a Letter to the Editor in the local paper stating that they are sick of the geese and want rid of them. I guess their problem is similar to our feral chicken problem in Bermuda. Only thing is these geese poop everywhere so it's difficult to walk anywhere without getting covered in it.
After a leisurely breakfast and a general clean of the barge, we set off at 11.30 to start our journey back. Still under cloudy skies and cooler temperatures. But better than it could have been so we were grateful. I would rather the clouds to the pouring rain. And then as if  sensing our gratitude, the sun peaked out again. And followed us as much as it could on our down river journey.
Despite having experienced the river on the way up, we discovered very quickly that it is a different animal going the opposite way. At first we were caught out because we didn't anticipate the power of the downstream currents when we set off. We realised that it was easier to control Sancerre on the upriver journey because the river was flowing against us. Slowing us down. Resisting us. But cruising downstream was a whole different experience. This time the river was flowing with us pushing us faster than we had expected. Assisting us more than we needed at times. Presenting an unexpected challenge because we were moving faster.  Causing Sancere to show how powerful she can really be when she is not being resisted. Reminding me about life in general. About how powerful we can be when we go with the flow. When we don't go against the currents. Reminding me how easy life can be if we don't swim against the tide. But at the same time we have to know how to work with the flow so we don't get knocked off course as Sancerre taught us yesterday.
Coming back through our first lock of the day, Cleeve Lock, which was our last lock last night, proved to be quite a  different experience to the one we had the night before. We were reminded that Sancerre does not like to be pushed from her stern. She is a lady after all and prefers to enter bow first so everyone can appreciate her beauty. No lady likes to enter from her rear and Sancerre showed us she was no different.
Luckily for us, my husband has enough water experience to know when to back off and start over again. When to stop resisting and change tactics. So he let us drift back until Sancerre caught herself and then we approached the lock again. This time with Sancerre coming in the way she wanted and likes the best so we were able to ease her into the lock with the grace she deserved.
Not having much time to get over the challenge presented by the Cleeve lock, we had to quickly ready ourselves for the next lock, the Goring Lock, because it was only 1000 yards away. Fortunately for us, the lockeepers were waiting for us so we had no problem getting Sancerre in. The lockeeper and his assistant there to assist us if need be but we were becoming such pros on the river that we were able to get tied on while the lock filled with no problem. Allowing us to look more relaxed and prepared than we felt. Chatting with the lockeeper and his assistant who told us about some of the incidents they have seen in the locks. Chatting away like we were long lost friends. The lockeeper recommending we go to The Swan for lunch in Pangbourne. Coming out of the lock feeling very proud and looking forward to the next part of our journey.
And then our hearts filled with joy when we rounded the corner and there before us was 50 shades of green from what seemed like 50 different types of trees!  The site was breathtakingly beautful. The colour of the trees contrasting against the colour of the river. Against the subtle sunlight. Greens I can't even describe but beautiful and deeply alluring to say the least - lime green, mossy green, murky green, emerald, dark green, silvery green. I felt like we were being embraced by the River Guardians. Showing us the way. Inviting us into their secret garden. A place of pure enchantment - reserved only for those who appreciate its beauty. And we were not disappointed. Instead we were spellbound. In awe.
And then the greens were replaced by civilisation again as we came out of the serenity of the River Guardians to the town of Pangbourne. Trying not to lose the magic of the moment, I looked back at the Enchanted Garden we had just come through and thanked the Universe for its gifts. Closing my eyes to store that vision in my brain. And then opened my eyes to face what was coming.
We decided to go through the Whitchurch Lock because all the moorings in front of the Swan were taken. When we arrived at the lock, we were taken aback by the fact that the lockeeper was talking on her phone. She did not even acknowledge we were there. She didn't make eye contact. She just went about her job. Closing the gate behind us then opening the sluices. Walking to the other side waiting for the lock to fill. Still on the phone. My husband and I thinking she was quite rude. Very different from the other lockeepers. However once she finished her call, she immediately apologised to us for being on the phone. She explained that she had had a difficult morning with some unruly teens who had been jumping in and out of the lock, running through people's gardens and in general creating havoc for her. Explaining she ended up having to call the police. How the word had spread quickly about what had happened to her so her phone had been ringing nonstop with people trying to verify what had happened. She turned out to be a friendly person. Teaching us both that we should not judge others until we know their circumstances. If we had remained closed to her, thinking she was not polite, we would have lost out on the opportunity to connect with someone who was good at heart.
Moving out of the lock, we wished her well and the Pangbourne Meadow came into the view. Luckily this time we were able to secure a coveted spot alongside the Meadow. Fate being on our side this time because this was the very spot we had hoped for on our way up the river but failed to secure. Telling me that the Universe wanted us to save the best for last because Pangbourne turned out to be even more beautiful and lively than we thought.
The meadow we moored against was a lovely wide open green, where there were lots of families, young people, old people enjoying the warm weather. We had a walk along the green and through the Riverwalk to the Swan, which turned out to not only be picturesque but had wonderful food and an ambiance unto its own. The staff friendly and helpful. We sat outside on the verandah overlooking the River, the very river we had just navigated down, enjoying a wonderful meal and great conversation. Sitting relaxed with each other for several hours. Enjoying our time together.
We came back to the barge and decided to stay moored where we were instead of chancing moving further downriver just in case we couldn't find a place to moor. Recognising if we made that decision, we will have to leave early in the morning in order to get supplies and water. Still we chose to stay put. My husband taking a much needed nap. The children relaxing watching a movie. Enjoying a very peaceful and tranquil afternoon with no demands or stess.
Later we decided to watch the Opening Ceremony for the Olympics. Discouraged when we could not get a signal. But my husband would not accept there was no satellite signal so he went out to ask the neighbouring people whether they had satellite. When he discovered they did, he moved us to see if he could pick up the signal. To no avail. Then he came in and put the TV through its sequence again. And once again my husband who never ceases to amaze me fixed our problem because BBC 1 popped on the screen for us. All of us cheering. So grateful for the diverse skills of my husband.
And we spent our last evening in Pangbourne watching the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics as a family. Grateful we were able to watch it. Pleased that we were in the same country as the Olympics. My husband proud of his native country for hosting the Olympics. Grateful for everything. My children fell asleep before the ending. My husband and I struggled to keep awake but desperate to see the ending. And we were glad we did. So worth it. The unity represented by the ending scene with the flames of the many different countries coming together as one was a poetic ending to a wonderful ceremony and a wonderful day for us as well.
Such a day of endings and beginnings. Of fate and faith. Of togetherness and family. Of being reminded that life changes depending on whether we are in the flow or not but it is up to us to adjust to it. To harness it to the best of our ability. As Sancerre taught us. Going against the flow is not the same as going with it. And how important it is to know the difference. In gratitude once again for a day full of life lessons out in nature. Namaste.

The Thames filling me with love and gratitude

Day 4 on the Thames. Another leisurely start to yet another beautiful day. My husband and I out of bed before the children. Rowers gliding by under instruction. As we discoverd we were near a rowing school.
My husband and I having some alone time. Sacred time together. Uninterrupted. Intimacy. Chatting about life.  About the tranquility and peace and abundance all around us.And then when we were done, I listened to the silence of the morning. Breathing it in. Letting it flow through my body, mind and soul.
Looking up at the trees surrendering to all the peace and love in the world. Feeling it flowing through my whole body. Feeling full of love and light. Tears springing to my eyes as I stood at the large porthole silently giving thanks to the Universe for all that I have in my life. Asking for guidance as to how I can best give and receive love and light in this world. Whispering Namaste and feeling it go through my whole being. Listening to the sound of silence. Watching the mist rising off the damp grass. Feeling total and utter surrender.
There's nothing like looking out the window and seeing only yourself being reflected back to you by nature itself. The essence of self being shown to you as you see the world. There is nothing more freeing than understanding that I am a part of the whole. That everything I see with clarity and love is because I have opened myself to the Universe, welcoming its abundance and treasures into my heart. There is nothing like that feeling at all. True and unfiltered love is such a blessing and I am so grateful to this journey on the Thames for allowing me to see and feel the unconditional love of the Universe. And for this blessing I am truly grateful.
And for realising when we are still long enough, nature comes to us, life comes to us. As it did me yesterday morning as I stood at the window looking out across the riverbank, I spotted a red fox slinking through the grass. Understanding the expression as sly as a fox. Knowing it was only in surrendering to the silence was I able to observe the fox in its natural habitat. Gratitude spreading through me.
And then we took a leisurely stroll along the overgrown towpath. Getting stung by nettles as we walked. Finding the cure right beside the poison, dock leaves, and rubbing it on my sting. Feeling instant relief. The wonders of nature with the sting and cure right beside it. Making me understand that life always provides us with what we need as long as we are still enough, grateful enough and open.
We walked to the Beale Wildlife Park and had a wander through but with the number of people there we quickly escaped to our peaceful Sancerre and cast off again to find more adventures on the Thames. This time much later than other days so we knew the day cruising on the River would be short but sweet.
We cruised to the town of Goring, another spectacular town on the Thames. Once we went ashore, we met a local lady who was gracious enough to escort us to a fork in the road which led us to a couple of pubs she recommended we should go for lunch. We ended up at her second choice  Catherine's Wheel but the food was superb. And my Pimms was to die for. We then had a stroll through the village finding everyone friendly and helpful.
Back on to Sancerre and through the Goring lock, a small and tight lock which we had to open ourselves. Again our daughter was in her glory skipping along the lock to close the gates behind us then open the sluices. The people in the other barge beside us commenting that she is the prettiest and youngest lockeeper they have ever seen. Once that side was done, she skipped to the other side to open the locks for us to go through. Skipping back on board feeling very proud of herself.
We cruised about 1000 yards to the next lock, The Cleeve Lock. Having read that the Goring and Cleeve Locks are the closest locks in distance on the whole of the Thames. The lockeeper was still there and opened and closed the lock for us much to our daughter's disappointment. As we cruised through accepting we were not going any further up the Thames because we had to think about turning around to make it back to Maidenhead by Sunday, we decided to moor alongside a field because the River was beautiful. The Sun was still high. And our daughter wanted to have her a dip in the river with her papa or daddy, as she has been calling him lately.
After mooring the Sancerre, my husband prepared the barge for them to swim. Of course me being the true spoilt Bermudian I am, there is no way that I would go into the water because it is not blue. I can't see the bottom. And the temperature of the water is less than eighty degrees. So I stayed onboard happily snapping pictures of them instead.
And then my husband jumped in the water gasping from the  cold but being the true Englishman that he is, braced himself and convinced himself the water was not that cold. My daughter, after much coaxing, jumped in after him. As a motorboat drove by, my husband and daughter pretended the water was  warm and they were thoroughly enjoying their swim. After the boat moved by, my husband commenting about how cold his feet were and how he wanted to come out. But my daughter wanted to stay in longer so they did for a short while longer. Treading in the cold water as a flock of about 20 ducks came swimming towards them quacking for food.
A perfect end to our up river journey. Walking along the field as our son rode his bike. Dodging goose poo and nettles. The sun still high in the sky. Past others barbecuing, walking dogs, sitting out on their decks. Trains speeding by in the distance. A busy road in the other direction. While we were still away from it all.
Then my husband and son rode back to Goring to pick up a bottle of wine and cheese while I prepared an evening snack for us. My daughter helping to set up the table on our deck. Once my husband and son returned, we sat out on the deck as a family looking out over the field and river reflecting about our journey thus far. Grateful for the beautiful weather. The perfect conditions. And our family working as a team together to get us safely up river. Though we did not make it to Oxford as we had hoped, we managed to learn so much about working a barge on the river. About working together. About anticipating each other's needs. About life. About love and  trust.
Being reminded the journey is way more important and enjoyable than the destination.

The Joys of the Unexpected on the Thames

Day 3 on The Thames. We pushed it so much on Tuesday that we decided to have a leisurely start to the day. Another picturesque start to the day. Cool temperatures. My children on the stern feeding the ducks. Up early and outside.
Looking out the starboard side of the Sancerre seeing two elderly men sitting side by side fishing in the River. Quiet. Pensive, Reflective. Amazing. Walking clubs coming by joyful that the sun was out. All commenting on the weather. It's amazing how sun brings light and joy into the lives of those who are not used to it. Reminding me not to take for granted the sunshine we get more often than not in Bermuda. Reminding me to be grateful for the blessing of having the sun almost daily.
After breakfast the children went off on their bikes to ride along the footpath. Riding off in the opposite direction to where we were last night. I am so grateful for having the ability to provide my children with so many different experiences. To expose them to the simplicities of life like bike riding and being in nature without bright lights and nonstop entertainment. Allowing them to find their own fun. Using their own imaginations without someone or something doing it for them. Seeing them riding off together, brother and sister, filled my heart with pure joy.
We left much later than the day before. Setting off at about 10.40 for our leisurely tour up the Thames. First stop Tesco in Reading to get supplies. Then we sat on the boat complete with our picnic table under a large oak tree and ate our lunch. Very civilised and very relaxed watching boats going by on the starboard side and people strolling, running or riding bikes on the towpath of the Thames on the portside. Glorious.
Then the next adventure was to stop to fill the water tanks on the barge as we were running a bit low. Success again. One pound to fill up our water tank - can you believe that? And a really nice man who gave us advice on where to go next. We are really becoming a river team. Our son at the bow. My husband and I at the stern. Our daughter floating between.
We leisurely arrived at our first lock for the day, Caversham, and it was a piece of cake compared to some of the ones we faced on Tuesday so we sailed through like old pros.
We then motored through Reading, one of the largest towns in England, and there were lots of people out in the parks enjoying the sun. Beautiful parks with large trees and people of many different ethnicities mingling together showing that everyone is looking for the same thing  - a bit of light in their lives and a bit of sunshine.
We were actually surprised by how beautiful Reading was as we thought because it is such a largeplace it would be ugly but it was not.  Dotting along the Thames were some pretty impressive homes - even one with a helipad in the yard complete with a helicopter on it. Another with a charming bell tower.
We then saw a home for sale in Caversham - a beauty right on the river. I looked it up on the Internet. Sales price a cool 1.7 million pounds roughly $3mil. Not bad we thought so here's what we are thinking. As soon as we get back, we are going to set up a fund for anyone interested in helping us to raise the funds so we can come back and purchase that house! Anyone interested please let us know. We promise if we raise the necessary funds that we will have a room waiting for you whenever you want to visit.
Sad to leave our dream home behind, we motored through reluctantly. But our spirits were immediately lifted when we had the pleasure of being flashed by a little man who took asbolute delight in rushing out of the trees on the riverbank bearing his jewels to us. Smiling the whole time and waving. Like he had been waiting for us all day. We were disappointed when we turned back to see he hadn't just singled us out. In fact he had his binoculars out waiting for the next unsuspecting boaters to come by. And as they approached he jumped out of the trees again flashing them as well. Dashing any hopes I had that he had fallen under my spell. He was just another horny flasher. Oh well on to the next unexpected event I thought laughing.
On to the next and most challenging lock we had been through, The Mapledurham. It is situated parallel to a weir that had very strong currents so we had to stick very close to the layby but lucky for us it was open as we approached and we were able to get straight into the lock and moor up. It was a brute for us to hold onto because it rose to 6 ft 9 in, the highest one yet. But we had two very helpful lockeepers - one from Barbados and the other from Ireland, who were very happy to pull us alongside. How small the world is becoming. And then we were through again and on our way to our spot for the night so we thought.
We tried in vain to moor at Pangbourne. But at 4.40, we were already too late. There was a limited amount of mooring space and every spot was gone. A shame really because it looked like a lovely little village to spend the night.
Deciding it was not meant to be,  we motored to the next lock which was Whitchurch. And to our surprise it was unmanned. The self service sign hanging on the outside of the lock. My heart leapt immediately into my throat. Panic set in as I wondered what are we going to do but I did not let it take control over me. Instead I surrendered my fear to the Universe. And was I glad I did because when my daughter discovered the lock was unmanned, she came rushing out of the cabin eyes wide all excited to have a job all on her own to do. She had been taught on our first trial run with the owner of Sancerre how to operate the locks if they were unmanned and she had been waiting to have the opportunity to use her skills.
She went rushing off the barge with my husband and son so they could read the instructions on how to work the lock. Leaving me on the barge to man it. She was so proud of herself because she not only opened the lock for us,  she also let another boat through. She then stayed on the lock while my husband and son came back on so we could move the barge into the lock then she climbed on board after the sluices were opened and the lock began to fill.
Once the lock opened we motored through in time to let a waiting yacht through the locks. On we motored to find another mooring. Motoring through Pangbourne we were once again blown away by another picture perfect village. We ended up mooring alongside the Child Beale Wildlife Trust for the night after tustling with a tree to get moored. Once we moored, the children dared to jumped into the Thames for a swim. Declaring it to be icy  cold but bearing it to say they had done it. Braver than I could ever be. Admiring them for their fearlessness.
I cooked dinner and we sat out on the deck eating our meal surrounded by nature at its best. A heron across the river from us.  A red kite flying above the trees across from us. My husband and I enjoying a bottle of Sancerre white wine courtesy of the owner of the vessel. Then a lovely local couple came walking by on the tow path and stopped to talk to us sharing with us places of interest within a 100 yards of where we were.
After they walked on, we completed our meal and then my husband's cell phone rang and it was his mother calling to check up on us. His face as proud as can be when he recounted to her our adventures over the last few days. My heart filling with joy just watching him knowing he was in his element on the river. Knowing I was a part of helping him to fulfill one of his longtime dreams.
Again the end of another perfect day. A family day. More relaxed than the day before but full of the unknown and unexpected. Full of surprises but what I realised more than ever was when we do things from our hearts rather than our minds, we are more willing to take risks. More willing to trust in the Universe. More willing to believe that everything unfolds as it is meant to because we are more willing to surrender. To go with the flow.
Another day full of blessings. Another day of sincere gratitude. Another day of staying in the present moment and for these lessons and blessings I am truly grateful.

Conquering our fears

Yesterday morning was magical. Our son woke us up at 6 am thinking it was 7 am. Anxious to get the day started. And we were glad he did. The River was shrouded in a mythical mist. Swans waking up. Ducks all in a row. Quacking loudly and flapping their wings hard as they took off into the air. The splendour of waking up in the morning to  a picturesque day. Clear skies. Rowers slicing through the water. Silently but purposefully. Magical.
Our children rushing to get bread to feed the swans. One swan getting aggressive and pushing its head through the porthole to get more food. Hissing at us like we were holding out on it. Rather than being grateful for being fed.
My husband cooking a bacon breakfast for the children. Then the children off like rockets to run through the lawn. Then we were ready to tackle our first day on the Thames on our own. Nervous about handling the majestic Sancerre. Not wanting to hurt her or mar her beauty in any way.
We started off slowly and gently. My heart racing. My son and daughter  at the bow. My husband at the helm and I at the stern with him. Motoring along into the deep green of the overhanging trees. Ducks floating by. A motor yacht close behind our stern. Pressure mounting.
And then we reached our first lock, The Temple, with great trepidation as this was not a practice run. We were on our own to maneuver through the locks. It was the real thing. I threw out my lines but missed the bollard. So I had to pull them back in quickly so they would not get wrapped up in the propeller. I managed to get them back in and throw them again. This time bulleye. But there was the motor yacht behind us so the lockmaster told us we had to pull forward. He was there to guide us. Actually coming down to move my lines. His assistant going to help our son. Mission accomplished. The relief was welcomed. We even chatted with the people on the motor yacht behind. Like we were accomplished river people.
Coming out of that lock, we crossed under a lovely old wooden footbridge. The sun obscured by the overhanging trees feeling like we had taken a step back in time. Within 1000 feet we reached the second lock, The Hurley. This one much narrower than the Temple and at an angle. My husband cautiously manuevering us through. Two lady lock keepers this time came out to help us because the bollards were higher up.  Too high for our son. The lock keepers making us feel like we were a part of the river family. Welcoming us.
Everyone happy because of the sun and the light. Dry weather. No rain. The River less threatening and more settled than in the past few weeks. Coming out of the two locks relatively unscathed. Relaxed. Feeling a bit more confident  about our river legs. My husband handing the tiller over to our son. The two of them standing side by side - father and son- helming our beautiful Sancerre through the river. Our daughter at the bow waving to oncoming boats. Relaxing. Tranquil. Heavenly.
Then after about 45 minutes of calm motoring we came across our third and most challenging lock, Hambleden. It was very busy. Lots of boats behind us and a weir to the starboard side sending a great and unexpected current our way. When my husband tried to bring us alongside the dock to wait for the lock to open, the current took us in the opposite direction. My husband realised right away that he had to get our son to secure the bow while he jumped off to pull Sancerre back to the dock.  Which he did successfully. Gratitude spreading through me that I have an experienced boatsman for a husband.
When the locks opened, the passage was very narrow so my husband had to maneuver us in slowly and expertly. Again mission accomplished. Everyone relaxed instanteously. Boats in front of us. Beside us and behind us. Everyone chatting to each other. Giving us advice on where to go. The tension lessoning. The lock keeper wishing us well and telling us to enjoy ourselves.
As we motored out of the lock feeling really chuffed that we made it, my husband said the biggest thing we fear is the unknown and that's why he like to dive right in. Face the challenge head on then the unknown becomes the known and the fear passes over us and behind us. Allowing us to motor on.
We then lunched in the little village of Henley  on Thames. Busy with tourists. Everyone out in the sun. We leisurely strolled around the town. Then it was off to the Marsh lock which was a tricky one because the water comes in from both sides but we made it through no problem. Shiplake the next lock seeming like a dream after the Marsh lock.
We decided to push it and get all the way to Sonning, a place recommended because of its quaintness. Flushed with confidence we went for it. We got to the Sonning lock at 6.40 just as the lockmaster was about to shut down. He closed right after us telling us he needed to get home to a cool shower because of the unusual heat. We told him how grateful we were for opening for us. Complimenting him on his beautiful hollyhocks.
We thought we had passed our hurdles for the day and were on the home stretch for the night. But when we reached the bridge before Sonning we faced another challenge.  Strong currents and another bridge to the right which was not on the map so we were not sure which way to go. So my husband slowed down and the current started to push us into the brick bridge. Once again my husband tamed the Sancerre and lead us expertly through the bridge. His palms sweating and me giving a silent thanks to the Universe for helping us.
We moored alongside the banks just outside the village of Sonning. Then walked along the foot path of the Thames to have dinner at The Bull Inn pub which was featured in the famous book written by Jerome K. Jerome,  Three Men in A Boat. And it was right next to the home of Jimmy Page from the rock band Led Zepplin. Unfortunately he did not come out to greet us. He obviously didn't know we were in town. A shame really. But nonetheless a great meal in a picturesque setting.
What a fabulous day. Who could ask for anything more. Our children away from televisons. Away from computers. Just being. All of us out being serenaded by the gentle sound of Sancerre's engine and the call of nature.
My husband commenting this is why they say England is a beautiful country as we motored by weeping willows looking like they could engulf us. Cooper beeches contrasting against the green. Handsome and stately homes scattered across the banks with hanging baskets bursting with multicoloured flowers. If only the weather would stay like this forever he mused.
But then the scenery would not be as lush. Nor as beautiful if the weather remained dry. England is beautiful because of the rain. It's just we don't appreciate it until the rain has passed. And we happened to be given the gift of the dry after the rain. To appreciate and savour and see England at her best from a peaceful and serene vantage point - the stern and bow of the Sancerre. And for these blessings I am truly grateful.

The magic of the Thames

Yesterday morning we left Newcastle under overcast skies and slightly cool temperatures to arrive in London to blazing hot sunny weather. I never thought I would feel the heat in England. I couldn't wait to get to a loo so I could take the tights I had on under my leggings off. Who would have thought?
After finally reaching Maidenhead, we were met outside by our car to take us to our home on the River Thames for the next 7 days. The driver was astounded by the amount of luggage we had. I guess he hasn't seen many travellers from Bermuda. So we had to find ingenious ways to fit all of our luggage into the car and we did because we were all tired of travelling. Really of carrying those heavy bags around. So we were happy to do whatever it took to put distance between us and the luggage.
We drove for about 10 minutes from the train station to the sailing school at Bisham's Abbey. From the street you would never think the Thames was behind the Abbey. So we drove around for a while. Thinking we were lost. Until the owner of the barge called to tell the driver to round the old Abbey. And once we did, the sight before us was unbelievable and awe-inspiring.
The setting could not have been more beautiful. The weather was perfect. The conditions were perfect. Everything was perfect. Perfect beyond what I had imagined. Sitting at the dock was our home for the week, a 60 foot long, 11 foot beam navy blue barge called the Sancere. She is as elegant as one could imagine, bobbing majestically on her mooring as if she knew we would fall in love with her. The Universe was definitely smiling down on us. Providing us with perfection as we began the second half of our holiday.
Lush green and expansive lawns lay on Sancere's portside with large old oak trees shaking their leaves in the breeze. On her starboard side sat the outer banks of the Thames, teeming with people happy to be out in the sunshine after weeks of rain and darkness. Families were out walking dogs. Friends sitting on the banks chatting and laughing. Swans gliding gracefully up and down the river. Kites swooping above us in and out of trees. Ducks quacking. People in canoes, kayaks, rowing boats, speed boats, family boats all out enjoying the delightful weather.
Inhaling and exhaling the sight before my eyes. Grateful for the abundance in my life as I watched my children racing along the river's edge on the large lawns chasing each other, playing hide and seek while we got acquainted with Sancere.
Walking into Sancere, I was amazed by her inner beauty as well. The comfort of each room. The wide open space. Enough room for all of our luggage to be hidden out of sight and still having plenty of room to walk around. The natural oak woodwork adding light and a feeling of home to her. Roses placed in a rose bowl on the marble island in the kitchen. Again feeling grateful for the abundance in my life.
David, the owner of the Sancere, walking us through the do's and don'ts. Taking us on a test run on the river, through a lock, which was terrifying for me, because I had to make sure the stern was tied up to the locks until they opened. People standing along the locks watching us, the novices, getting our river legs. Feeling the pressure mounting. Our son at the bow doing the same securing the Sancere so she did not drift. We did it. Immensely proud that we did. Then my husband redocked the Sancere before David left us. Walked away from his beautiful barge leaving it in our hands. Satisfied that we could handle it.
Can't wait to see what the day brings. I hope it is as romantic as I feel right now. Dreaming of sitting on the bow writing as if I am a female version of Ernest Hemingway, letting my creative juices flow as we cruise up the Thames away from the hustle and bustle. Away from the everyday demands of our lives to the demands only of the locks and the River Thames. Surrendering to the wonders of nature.  Surrendering to family time. Surrendering to a new adventure. The magic of the Thames. Grateful to be able to do so.

The past is my present to your future

Well it's officially our last morning in Newcastle. The week has flown by at warp speed which obviously means we enjoyed ourselves immensely. The weather even cooperated with us allowing us to enjoy so much of the outdoors. Spending time with my inlaws and just being together as a family.
I even managed to have my hair done by a hairdresser who used to be in Bermuda. Talking about the world getting smaller by the minute because of how well travelled we all are. How interdependent we are all. How connected we all are.
But something that stayed in my mind was a quote I saw engraved on a plaque that was dedicated to Richard Grainger, a builder and developer, who built a majority of the streets downtown in Newcastle in the 1800s, " The past is my present to your future." A wonderful way to leave Newcastle. As we are leaving behind my husband's parents and relatives and my children's grandparents and relatives whose pasts have paved the way for my children to be here and who will carry their memories into the future.
And then I started thinking about the meaning of the quote some more, "the past is my present to your future". Contemplating it until it all the words made absolute sense. Because I believe this quote is reminding us that the past is the present is the future. There is really no seperation between them because we are always present. We cannot live in yesterday. Nor can we live in tomorrow. Which means we can't live in the past. Nor can we live in the future. All we are able to do is live in the present. The present moment.
I also think it is apt for the quote to be placed beneath a circle. Depicting the never ending circle of life. There is no beginning or end. It is all. We are all. A part of infinity. The circle of life.
We will take a catch a train later this morning taking us away from Newcastle and away from my husband's parents as we travel to the second half of our holiday. They will go back to their normal routines. Probably counting the days to our next visit. The past blending into the present. The present blending into the future. Living each second, each moment as if it is all we have. Because it is really all we have. Changing my outlook on life. Bringing it all into perspective. It is up to all of us to remember that the past is our present to someone's future. As much as it is to our own. Always. Without question.
What we do in the present moment will impact someone's past as well as impact someone's future. Think about that and then live it as you would like the past and future to be written. Because it is up to us. Always and Forever. The past is my present to your future. Amen.
Goodbye Gateshead and NewCastle for now. Thanks for the fond memories. And for the gentle reminder that what I do today will impact both the past and future for someone.

Learning from Birds of Prey

When the time is right everything works like clockwork. Without effort. As if it could not get any better. And yesterday was one of those days for my family.
We woke up to bright blue skies in the Northeast of England - imagine that. The sun was actually out and it felt like a veil had been lifted off the city. Mind you by Bermuda standards it was a perfect winter's day with the coolness in the air. But you would never think it based on the number of people that were sitting outside basking in the sun. Teeshirts replacing coats while we, of course, were bundled up. Looking like the tourists we are.
We headed out to Kielder Forest. This time getting there in no time flat. No wrong turns. Finding the forest because it was meant for us to be there. Unlike Wednesay when we could not find the right road. Instead yesterday we drove through beautiful countryside sometimes being totally umbrelled by large oak trees lining the narrow roads making us feel as if we were driving through an Enchanted Garden. Then we would come out of the canopy of oak trees to find wide open fields filled with red poppies filling my spirit with pure joy. Those fields being replaced by mares and their foals in fields, sheep, wild bunnies hopping along the sides of the road. Nature at its best under the crisp blue skies allowing me to inhale and exhale all the abundance surrounding our journey.
When we reached the Kielder Forest, I have to admit that I was apprehensive about doing a workshop on birds of prey and I was less than enthused about feeding them. But the Kielder Birds of Prey centre was one of the cleanest  places I have been to. Our young guide, Johnathan, was so passioante about the birds that his passion was infectious. Soon we were all drawn into the story of each bird at the centre. Learning more than any of us could ever learn on our own about birds. Interesting facts like birds really don't like to fly. They only fly for food and other than that they are content to sit and wait or glide on thermals.
Then we met Jay, the owner of the centre, and he was even more knowledgeable and passionate than Johnathan. We fed merlins, owls, and hawks while they sat on our gloved arms.  Allowing us to become comfortable with the birds. Then Jay took us on a walk through the forest with a Harris Hawk called Tazer. As we were walking along Jay suddenly launched Tazer into the air and he flew effortlessly into the trees. Then Jay put a piece of chicken onto his glove and Tazer came soaring gently down to sit on his glove and eat the chicken. He then allowed each one of us to put on the glove so Tazer could land on it and feed while on our arm. At first I was very nervous. But after doing it, we all agreed it was one of the best experiences we have ever had.
Unlike the aggression I had imagined we would sense from the hawk, it was completely the opposite. I got to look right in Tazer's eyes and saw he had a soul just like mine. That he had feelings just as I do. And what I realised more than anything is that each creature has a position in life. Either as the hunted or the hunter. With the roles constantly reversing. Just like us. That this bird had such an immense power about him yet all he wanted was to be fed and cared for as do we. That there is not much difference between us and the other inhabitants on this earth. Whether human or animal.
We then went back to the centre and took part in the public afternoon show.  We were front and centre with Jay because he knew we were capable of handling the birds under his direction. My daughter was excited to be in the show. Jay and Johnathan brought out a beautiful Eagle Owl called Deed who soared silently over the top of my daughter's head to get a piece of chicken from Jay's glove. An American black vulture called Cora stole the show with her hilarious personality. Pelicans sending unruly children running back to their parents' sides when they ended the show with their commanding and grand entrance.
It turned out to be an experience better than any of us had anticipated. And one that I am glad came together when the time was right so I could see that sometimes when we step outside of our comfort zones, when we don't resist what is meant to be, life always serves us up with experiences that bring us great joy. Just how interrelated everyone and everything is. And that we still have so much to learn every single day when we are open. When we don't judge. When we don't shut off our minds. Even sometimes when we move outside our comfort zones.
When the time is right, everything slots into place. There are no bumps in the road. No wrong turns. No mistakes. Just a time filled with joy as was the day heaven sent from above yesterday for my family. Out in nature. Learning about other creatures that share this life with us - birds of prey. Realising how there is not much difference between them and us. While at the same time learning so much more about life and the importance of taking advantage of situations when the time is right. Because everything feels right and goes right. Like clockwork.
In gratitude for yesterday for allowing me to embrace the concept promoted by Stuart Wilde that, "Life is Never Meant to be a Struggle."

A reminder from Stephen Covey

When you ask the Universe clearly for an answer it always delivers. I know I have said this many times but I am always surprised when I find an answer without really looking for it. When it just appears out of the blue. When I am least expecting it.
Yesterday I was thinking a lot about how I can become more like the leaders I look up to, those I aspire to be like. People like Oprah, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Mother Theresa, and others that I consider to be modern day light bringers. How I need to change direction to become more like them. And then I was drawn to an article written about a man I had forgotten all about. And it was an uplifting and eye opening tribute to this man who I believe set many of us on a truth seeking journey in the corporate world. A man who blurred the lines between spiritualism and the corporate world way before it was fashionable to do so. A man who made me realise in order to be truly successful in the business world, I had to work on me. I had to incorporate my spiritul beliefs in my work life in order to understand and empathise with people I encounter. That man was Stephen Covey with his ground breaking book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
I am embarrassed to admit I had forgotten about Stephen Covey's influence on my career. That I had cast him aside and moved on to the next wave of light bringers and seekers. So I am really glad that I was drawn to the article,  "Stephen R. Covey Taught Me Not to Be Like Him" ,  written by Greg McKeown for the Harvard Business Review because it blew me away. Even from his grave, Stephen Covey's light is still shining because through this article I got an answer loud and clear about how I am meant to be living my life. The particular line in the article that rattled me was,  "Follow not in the footsteps of the masters, but rather seek what they sought."
When I read that line I got goosebumps. That feeling that travels right down your spine and radiates throughout your whole being. That all knowing feeling when you know you have been answered by the Divine. And a lightbulb went off in my head - letting me know I have to make my own footprints in this life. I cannot walk in anyone else's. I have to continue to seek what they sought but on my own terms and according to my own strengths and weaknesses. According to the lessons I am meant to learn and teach.
In other words, I need not compare myself to anyone else. All I need is to continue seeking until all my lessons are done and then I move to another phase. And then the next and the next. As long as I accept I am as I am. Who I am. That I am. Both Seeker and Bringer. Student and Teacher. Light and Darkness.
Thank you Steven Covey for the reminder. Thank you Greg McKeown for bringing Steven Covey to my mind again. And thank you Universe and the Divine for once again prodding me to know when I ask in a clear and concise way the answer is always given.
Rest in Peace Steven Covey. In gratitude for your life and light. A light that still shines on.

Sometimes the wrong direction ends up being the right direction

Yesterday we set out to go to Kielder Forest. A bit later than we would have liked so we were a little stressed about getting there on time.
My husband had mapped the route out prior to us getting in the car. We knew we had to go on the A1 then to the A69 but what we didn't realise is that we had to head South first to go west then North. My husband had made the logical assumption that the forest was north of where we were so he believed we needed to head North. So when we got to the A1 and saw the sign for A69 South, my hubsand dismissed that exit and headed to the sign that said A1 North.
We drove on that road for about 15 minutes but grew concerned when we did not see any signs for the A69. So to my husband's credit we stopped to ask for directions. And we were told we were heading in the wrong direction! That we were supposed to exit on the A69 South. My husband was angry with himself for making such a stupid mistake. We were all panicked that we would never get to our 11 o'clock appointment to feed the birds of prey.  And to add insult to injury it was pouring down with rain. The wind had picked up and it was looking to be a miserable day. Not exactly the conditions to be handling birds of prey.
I then decided to call the people at the Forest to explain our situation. And the lady that was supposed to be working with us said they were just talking about us and were going to contact us to let us know that it was too windy to work with the birds of prey. She said if we did not mind they would prefer to postpone the appointment to another day. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The pressure was off. The tension in the car eased. But we were on the road so we wondered what we were going to do next.
My husband then asked if anyone wanted to go to WhiteHall Farm instead. My daughter immediately got excited because that's where she had wanted to go all along because she wanted to pet guinea pigs. And we had passed the signs for the farm when we made the U-turn to put us on the right road for the forest. And then I realised I was being taught an invaluable lesson, we are never lost. It's just that sometimes we have to make the wrong turn to make the right turn to take us to the place we are meant to go. Not the place we think we ought to go. But where we are meant to be.
Reminding me that sometimes we may feel that we have made the wrong turn but if we are patient enough and listen to our inner compasses, we will dscover that we were acutally placed on the path we were meant to go on in the first place. Sometimes even the wrong turn ends up being the best path for us. Better than the one we thought we were meant to be on. Sometimes it's better to just go with the flow and enjoy the journey because it will take us where we are meant to go. Not always where we thought we would be but always where we need to be.
That wrong turn yesterday leading us in the wrong direction, so we thought, ended up taking us to the place where we were meant to be. And it turned into a glorious morning once we made the decision to go to the farm. The sun came out. The sky was blue for more periods than not. It was still windy but we were able to enjoy a good family afternoon together. My daughter petting more than the guinea pig she wanted to pet because she got to pet rabbits and a mouse. My son got to ride around on a go cart. All of us did actually ending our outing with a family go cart race. All of us laughing and having a great time under unexpected blue sunny skies in the Northeast.
All these unexpected pleasures coming after having initially thought our day was ruined because we had taken the wrong turn and were heading in the wrong direction. Only to discover we were always heading in the direction we were meant to be heading in. And ended up at a place that was full of surprises. Just like life, we are never lost. If we listen to our inner compasses on those occassions when we feel like we are heading in the wrong direction and go with the flow, we will always end up where we are meant to be. Always but only after we stop resisting and just going with the flow.

Imagine if we viewed each moment as the gift it is

Yesterday we had another relatively dry day in England so we decided to take advantage of it and go bike riding as a family along the Tyne River. It was perfect weather for riding because it was slightly cool and overcast.
We set off together feeling quite chuffed that once again we had cheated the rain. Slowly getting our riding legs under us except for my son of course who rides all the time. He was off at once. While the rest of us got comfortable in the saddle. After riding 2 miles, my daughter decided she had had enough so my husband and son continued the ride while my daughter and I rode back the two miles. Because she was in a hurry to get back we pedalled along quite quickly with occassional chatter. Giving me a lot of time to think and contemplate life. A lot of quiet time out in the fresh air with no inteference but my own thoughts.
As we were riding, a quote I had seen came back into my head and it really made me think. The quote said something along the lines of, from the day we are born we are faced with a death sentence because we are born to die so we may as well live our lives knowing we are going to die. When I read it, I thought it was quite a dramatic quote and very depressing so I pushed it aside. Trying to find lighter reading.
That's why I was surprised when it pushed its way to the front of my thoughts again. As I rode along behind my daughter; looking out over the river and thinking about life, I realised how true that quote really is. I watched my daughter's retreating back thinking of how grown up she is becoming. Thinking about how independent my son is becoming, off riding a longer course with my husband and his dad. Thinking about how my inlaws are closer to their end. While my husband and I are in the middle. And my son and my daughter are somewhat at their beginning. But none of us know that for sure. None of us know when life will end for us.
Why then are we so surprised when we learn we are going to die? No matter how hard I contemplated this thought, all I got were more questions. Like, why don't we live our lives knowing we are going to die? Why do we try to pretend like we are going to live forever, that we are immortal?
Why do we put off things today saying we can always do them tomorrow and the next when really each day is a blessing. Another day for us to live as we are intended to live. Each moment a gift and that's why it is called the present because that's exactly what it is, a present. Wrapped and presented as we imagine it to be.
I rode behind my daughter feeling the fresh air against my face. Feeling as free as can be knowing that moment was my gift, my present, to accept this life is my only go around in this physical form and I have to live it because before long I will be moving on to the next phase.
Questioning whether I could honestly say I am content with where I am. And if I am not,  what am I going to do to change it knowing every day I am moving closer to death than I am to birth. Each day I am getting older and hopefully wiser so it's up to me to live my life as I see fit.
Each moment we are given is a present, a gift, for us to unwrap and to enjoy for what it is. As we want it to be. To live knowing we are going to pass on from this form to another. Why not enjoy every single moment as if it was our last. Imagine the lives we would lead then? Imagine how much freer we would be. Imagine if we stopped trying to defy the hands of time but accepted them as a reminder that our time is finite how differently we would treat each moment we have.
Then we would truly understand each moment of life is a gift. A present. To live as fully as we can. I rode on feeling grateful for that moment and ever moment thereafter. Enjoying the wind in my face. Enjoying life.

The simple things in life that bring us joy

Yesterday was such a lovely day. After all the hiccups we finally got to see the people we came here to see. The parents of my husband and the grandparents of my children. The aunt of my husband and the great aunt of my children.
To see the pure joy on their faces with seeing their son and their grandchildren is indescribable. I love giving that experience to my husband and to my children. I love giving that experience to my inlaws. Because it is nothing like the feeling of pure joy and love. A love that asks for nothing in return except for being there. For being present.
We don't get to see them very often because of the distance and our busy lives but I try to make sure we see them as often as we can particularly since they are 83, 84 and 85 years old. Recognising they don't have too much time left biologically, it gives me great joy to bring joy into their lives. Simple joy just by being present with them. Accepting them for who they are. Respecting their wishes to be as they are.
They look forward to our arrival. Preparing for us long before it is even time for us to get here. Giving them something to look forward to. To plan for.  I love my children knowing there are people in the world who love them purely for who they are not for what they can give to them. I remember how I used to feel under the love of my mother and my grandmother. The fuss they used to make over me. I still miss that feeling of unconditional love and so I want my children to experience it for as long as their grandparents and great aunt are still here with us.
I know how tough it is for my husband to live in a completely different country to the place where his family lives so being here is as much a gift for him as it is for me as it is for our children as it is for his parents and aunt. The gift of unconditional love.
Even the sun came out for us yesterday. Showing us England in her pure glory. The greens as lush as they could be from all the rain that has sodden the fields. The sky as blue as it can be in England. The space that does not exist in Bermuda. Large fields with horses, cow, sheep, goats wizzing past us as we flew by on the train.
Hearing our taxi driver say when asked about the English weather,  "Every day just expect the rain and that way you are never disappointed and if there is sun, that's a bonus." Talking about accepting life for what it is. Not expecting more than what it can be. Not trying to change things beyond your control. Just going with the flow is so freeing. So full of bonuses. Thinking of the wise words of the taxi driver and smiling, glad to be here in England allowing my husband and children and myself the pleasure of bringing pleasure to parents, grandparents, aunts and great aunts. Accepting English weather for what it is and if we get sun accepting it as icing on the cake.
Listening to my mother-in-law say that as she gets older she's content to be where she is. Not fussed about rushing around. Enjoying her moments of drinking milky coffee and baking whenever she wants. Thinking about the simple things in life that bring us the most joy.
Happy for allowing my children to be exposed to the elderly so they know what's coming to them. So they can learn to be patient and to love unconditionally so that they too can treat others with respect and love.
Just being. No rushing. No disappointments. Walking in the rain. Prepared for it. And whenever the sun peeked through accepting it as a bonus. Just going with the flow.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Planes, Trains and Automobiles! That's all I could think about yesterday when my family arrived in England for our family holiday. Bringing to mind the movie that made me laugh so hard I cried. We were the epitome of the tourists with too much luggage trying to act like locals by taking trains to get trains to get to our ultimate destination.
Only to find my greatest challenge and fear becoming the giant elephant in the room - giant escalators everywhere we turned. Each time we encountered one, my heart would race. My mouth would go dry and my body would start to shake almost to the point of hyperventilating. I could not conquer my fear. In fact it kept getting worse with each escalator. I had to find an elevator even if it meant us having to go outside to get to the next part of the train station. My fear of riding eslators escalating to the point that everyone was frazzled. My husband yelling at me because he thought I was being ridiculous. Me yelling at him because I felt he was dismissing my phobia. Our children looking at us then at each other and shrugging their shoulders. The tension building to the point where we were barely speaking to each other. What we looked like to our fellow travellers I don't know. But I was not going to get on any of those escalators particularly since I felt unbalanced with the large pieces of luggage!
Just when I felt like taking my bags and catching the next plane back home, the movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles popped into my head and I started to laugh. Shifting my energy instantly. Making me realise just how important it is to laugh at ourselves when the going gets tough. When we feel like everything is going against us and completely the opposite to the way we planned.
Laughter is a cure for it all because it genuinely soothes the soul. Replaces displeasure with pleasure. Anger with joy. And also makes us realise just how much time we waste when we allow anger to consume us. How irrational we become. How uncompassionate and inflexible. Totally against our natural state of being. It also made me realise just how much energy it takes to be angry and how light I feel when I laugh.
Then I looked around at everyone hustling through the airport. At all the people on journeys anxious to get to their destinations and I laughed again. Thinking how much time we spend being angry, anxious and frustrated about reaching our destinations rather than going with the flow and enjoying the journey along the way.
Then I looked at my family looking like the typical tourists with all of our bags piled up high on the trolley and laughed again until all anger dissipated. Accepting I have a true phobia of heights and it is something I have to deal with but for that moment I would just do what I had to do to make our journey that much smoother. And off we went together. No more bickering. No more shouting matches. Just getting on with the rest of our journey.
Planes, trains and automobiles. It is always good to bring humour into the most unpleasant situations. Allowing us to shift our energy to go with the flow and see where we end up. Too much luggage, car booked for the wrong day, one mishap after the other  and all. Letting all that go. Instead laughing it off allowing space for gratitude to creep back in and seeing the adventure of starting our vacation together for what it was - a time for us to be together without worrying about work or anything else. Spending time together. Enjoying new experiences and just being together. Here's to the start of a family adventure and journey together with humour and gratitude.

A Healing Unexpected

This week has been a week of change, revelations and surprises. Some making me question who I am. And why I am here. Some making me wonder what life is trying to teach me. Some making me shiver.

So last night I did something out of the ordinary because I had this deep desire to be among likeminded people. A desire to be enveloped in an energy frequency that I hoped would help to shift my energy. That would allow me to understand the emotions that are swirling through me without judgement. Without fear. Without apprehension.

I went to My Sereni-tea to a Healing Sanctuary one of my angel friends sent me an invitation for earlier in the week. Because when I received her invitation, something inside of me was moved and I knew I had to go. Despite it being Friday the 13^th. The night before my family leaves to go on vacation. Despite the fact that I have not packed nor packed for my children. I knew I had to be there.

It was scheduled to start at 7 but I was at work trying to tidy all my affairs before leaving for 2 weeks so before I knew it, it was 7 and I was just getting into the elevator to leave the office. And I panicked because I did not want to miss the introduction to the Healing Sanctuary. Particularly since I had no idea what it was. Then I couldn’t find a parking spot when I got there so I had to drive around the block. Panicking some more. Questioning whether I was meant to go or not? Debating about whether to just drive home.

Questioning what a Healing Sanctuary was anyway. But then I found a parking spot so I got out of the car and ran to My Sereni-tea. I walked in to find a room full of people all dressed in white as that was what we were supposed to be dressed in and immediately I felt my stress levels diminish. Some people were standing. Some people were sitting. Some people were chatting quietly. While others had their eyes closed and were deep in meditative states. The energy in the room was electric full of possibility and anticipation.

I sat in a chair closed my eyes and let myself surrender to the energy in the room. Feeling every part of my body, mind, and soul giving way to the energy around me. I had no idea what was going on. I kept waiting for whatever was supposed to happen to begin. Instead the music kept playing softly in the background, lulling me slowly into the deepest recesses of my brain. Forcing me to relax even more. And then the door opened and the sound of one of my favourite songs, Ave Marie, came wafting through. A gut wrenching feeling went through me.  

Three healers dressed in white came out of the room as if they were floating calling 3 names including mine. To say I was surprised is an understatement. I had no idea that I would be leaving the circle of people. So I walked with apprehension mixed with going with the flow into the room. Trusting I was where I was meant to be.

My healer asked me what my intention was for the healing and I had somewhat of an idea but I was not sure if I was ready to say because I was completely thrown off guard. So we decided to let it be a surprise. And then before I knew it, I was off on a journey that sent all sorts of emotions and sensations through my complete being – body, mind and soul. I could feel energy shifting. Feelings I didn’t know I had came rushing to the surface. Heat coursing through me body followed by intense coldness.  Extreme and polar opposite sensations as chills ran through me. Then I felt myself totally surrendering to what was going on in my whole body.

Tears came that I could not stop. My body was vibrating at such a level that I felt dizzy when I got up. My ears seemed blocked as if I had been transported to a different and safe place and I did not want to come back. But I did and then the dam burst as tears came flooding down my face. As I realised I have been a light to so many people that in the process I have neglected to be a light in my own. That I have given so much of myself to others that I have forgotten to give to myself. That I have moved so far off centre that I am afraid of what and who I am becoming.

And then I was held by the other angels and spiritual sisters that were there allowing me to have my moment without judgement. Without fear. Without questioning. And I let it all out and then I felt joy. Pure joy. My whole being felt lighter, free.

So I sat for a moment allowing the sensations to fill my body. Allowing myself to surrender to the moment. And when I felt strong enough to leave the circle, I walked to the desk and pulled out a card at random. Elated to see that the card was about Fulfilment which was exactly the intention that came to me during my healing. And then I knew I was on the right track. That everything was going to be okay. That I was okay. That it was okay to leave the Healing Sanctuary and go back out into the world because I am a work of art in progress. A woman striving to be the best I can be. A light onto myself and others. To spread and share love. To be as authentic as I can be. And then I exhaled deeply and slowly.

Then I walked out of the door feeling like I was floating. Filled with love and peace and surrender. Knowing I had been embraced by the light because I am the light.

Lesson from a missing toothpaste top

Yesterday morning I put the top of the toothpaste down. Without thinking about where I put it. Only focusing on getting my teeth brushed. Once I brushed my teeth I looked for the top to put it back on but I could not find it anywhere. I searched everywhere in the bathroom. Even getting down on my knees to see if the top had rolled under the sink. To no avail. I could not find that toothpaste top anywhere. Deciding not to waste anymore time looking for it, I gave up and went back to my normal morning routine so I could get to work.

While brushing my hair, I spotted the top. Lying on the ledge of the mirror right in front of my face. In plain sight. Nothing obscuring it. Nothing at all. I looked at that top for the longest time trying to figure out how in the world I could have missed a white top sitting on a black ledge. It wasn’t like it had blended into the surroundings because it was such a contrast to where it was lying. So how could I have not seen it?

I shook my head and picked up the top and screwed it slowly back on the toothpaste thinking about why it had been hidden from me. And then I knew I was being reminded not to look so hard for what I want and need. To remember always what I want in life. To remember to let the Universe know what I want. Whisper it to the Universe. Trust it. Then surrender my desires to it.  All while doing what I have to do on a daily basis because every step I am taking is leading me in the direction I am meant to be going in.

No matter how dark it may seem sometimes. No matter how overgrown the path may seem. No matter how long it may seem to be taking. When the time is right and when all the lessons I am meant to learn along the way are done, I will find the meaning of my life. I will find the answer to my prayers, questions, and desires.

Just like that toothpaste top was there in front of my face all the time but because I didn’t pay attention to where I had put it, I lost it for a while. And then I started looking too hard for it. Becoming too frantic, obscuring my ability to see what was right in front of me. But once I surrendered the thought of finding it and went on getting dressed for the day, the top appeared in exactly the place it had been the whole time. Teaching me. Reminding me to trust in the Universe. Have faith that my life is unfolding as it should. Not to sweat the small stuff. To not take anything I am doing for granted. To remember everything and everyone is in our lives for a reason. And then when the time is right, all will be revealed as long as I consciously set my intentions and then surrender them. 

Life always give us what we ask for and believe in when the time is right. When we don’t look too hard that we can’t see. When we don't lose focus on what our intentions are. When we have faith and trust and love. Just like that toothpaste top was there all the time, so is our life plan.

In gratitude to the light bringers

I recently watched an interview Oprah did with Deepak Chopra and these words resonated so deeply within me, I thought I had to share them. To help spread the light.

In Deepak Chopra’s words, “Life is a field of infinite possibility and an opportunity to evolve in the direction of truthfulness and harmony.

“Love – the ultimate truth at the heart of creation. It is not a sentiment or emotion.

“I want to thank all people who have given me so much love without me even asking for it.”

Oprah asked who would you like to forgive. His response. “They are already forgiven.”

What Chopra would like to be remembered as: “A passing breeze. A pattern of behaviour of the Universe that came and is now gone but the fragrance lingers.”

This is why I love Oprah because she fills me with hope through her programmes. Whether she lives her life of truth everyday that is not for me to judge. But what I know for sure about her is that she is constantly seeking her truth and for likeminded people to help her and the rest of us to find our truth and be it for as long as we can. Recognising we are all human and infallible. Imperfect. Recognising every roadblock is a path for growth if we are strong enough to see it as such. If we resilient enough to recognise its pattern.

Oprah brings to us, to me, people that are trying their best to be light beings. People who believe in energy shifting and the power of energy. The power of intention. People that can help us to realise just how powerful we really are. Not in changing the world by trying to change others. But in changing the world by changing ourselves. The way we think. The way we act. The energy we project.

I read Chopra’s wise words again and again because they make me feel so alive. So capable. So full of all the life force that surrounds me every day. So beautiful in a complete way. To know there are people in this world who think like Chopra. Forgive like him. Who believe in the infinite fills me with the Divine power and spirit. Allowing me to shift my thought patterns and hold on to them for as long as I can. And when they retreat to the Dark side, chant them to myself so I can see the Light again.

Thank you to all the light bringers in the world for coming forward and to Oprah for providing the stage for them to be seen by those of us who would not otherwise know of their existence. May the Divine Spirit and Light continue to radiate throughout the world through the minds of those who are willing to share. Reminding us that life is a field of in finite possibility.