Thank you!! and Fuck Yeah!!

Thank you Teri and Monte and Ten and Aureole and Christie and Alex and Nash and Bear and everyone who messaged and texted me!

I do know this is the work. I am grinning (with rue) that last summer at California Witch Camp we spent a day in my path exploring uncertainty, moving forward in darkness. And my good friend Ralph – okay, he is actually my therapist – says “This is the point in the hero’s journey where the hero has to move forward without knowing. Otherwise, there is no story.”

I know all of this. I laugh at uncertainty! Ha-Ha! (With Pink Panther French accent.)

But there is still sometimes an unhelpful voice that says that part of work culture and being employed is showing no weakness. Especially in leadership or teaching. And I want to teach and lead and someday teach leadership… And I was falling into that trap. So yesterday’s post was letting all that out.


In truth, things are not as dire as all that. I have many leads! Got head-hunted! Have friends who are hooking me up or sending me texts or love or invitations... I can feel the magic web around me.

And I got back down to the creek today,.

I’d been away for maybe a week. (Cold and rainy and a head cold and a three-day hangover don’t mix. Nash Murray, you know what I am talking about.) Anyway, last time I was there, the Big Leaf Maple that is my forever love was still crowned in gold, but this morning, he was nearly bare, the earth around him littered with treasure. The creek was low enough after a rainless night that my boulder was exposed again, and Sunshine and I hopped onto it. I heard a salmon splash. I felt myself in this place, the wild that wants to be known rising in me. I called the language of hope and brave vision from east. I called the inner fire that will help my job search and finally end this fucking head cold from south. From west I called nothing, just sent my gratitude for all the love around me.

And then I looked North, which, even though I am not supposed to have favorites, is my favorite direction.  The willow branch which dropped into the creek last spring is still there. It spent the whole summer sending roots down, anchoring into the creekbed while the water ran low and gentle. It has rooted in at least three places, and sent up shoots. If those shoots survive, they will grow into trees that make more life possible. They will slow and widen the waters. They will become food for butterflies, nest sites and forage for bird and beaver, and most of all, a gentling force in the sometimes raging currents of this place.

November is the rainiest month of the year. It is why salmon return now, with their fearless pursuit of pleasure and their willingness to leap waterfalls. This is a time of danger and plenty. But we are more than halfway through this deluge of a month, and the willow has survived so far and the salmon are not just surviving, they are saying "Fuck yeah."