Perfectly situated amongst the trees sat a little white cottage with yellow trim and shutters. The door stood ajar welcoming me, as I stepped over the threshold I hear “Grace’s Cottage”. I smiled; stepping into the sitting room I noticed two people on a couch in conversation. Behind me I could feel the presence of a gentleman who had followed and was now standing behind me in the shadows. I glanced again at the other two and saw my teenage daughter with her long wheat colored hair flowing down her back. The young man that she was speaking to was Elvis. No, not Elvis, his hair and facial shape were very similar in coloring but that was all. This was Adam, a singer who competed for the title of American Idol. He has a style and charisma on stage that was definitely not reminiscent of Elvis. Both young people had a sheet of paper that they were consulting.

“I am so excited, to add the next item to my list.” She said.

“So am I,” he replied. “I have two already, how about you?”

“I need to add only one more after this. Shhh… here it comes.”

As she spoke the last words I saw a small old TV set of the 50’s turn on, an image appeared and then it turned to static and snowy lines across the screen. All I heard was Grace’s Cottage…..

I blinked my eyes as I lay there looking at the sun cresting the hillside. Dream images fluttered through my head, I had awoken with the vision of Grace’s Cottage. Coming fully awake now, I realized that Grace was the name of the man’s whose family homestead I visited the day before. Was she the Grace in my dream? No, the book research was on her husband, as a small child, it was his home I photographed, her name wasn’t even mentioned. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, got out of bed and started the camp stove. This was the morn of Summer Solstice, my day of working in nature journeying with spirit. I sat down with my coffee to plan my day.

You know the old adage, when someone keeps appearing take note you are being giving a message, a direction to follow. Alberto Villoldo, a psychologist, medical anthropologist and shaman, has worked the wisdom keepers of the Andes known as the Laika, the last remaining Inka. His book Mending the Past and Healing the Future with Soul Retrieval had fallen into my lap, twice, I didn’t wait for a third time.

Soul loss and soul retrieval are a big part of the healing work I do with people as well as animals Alberto talks about four chambers in the lower world, each containing a record of your soul’s history. As I followed his work I received verification of my own experiences. This morning, I checked my journal to see what chamber I had last visited, my eyes widen as I read The Chamber of Grace.

New meaning to my dream came at that moment, lifting my head I looked around at the woods that surrounded me; at that moment I felt its beauty embracing me. Alberto says, “Most of us confuse grace and happiness, but the former is profound and transformative, while the latter is fleeting and causal.” My dream had been about walking and being in grace. My soul had chosen the summer solstice to experience grace.

I opened my medicine space for the day and as I finished I heard a song that I have song from the very beginning of my Shamanic studies at Spirit Hollow. I smiled and sang.

Peacefulness in front of me,
Beauty all around,
Love and light above our (my) heads
And scared is the ground.
May we (I) walk in harmony,
Grateful all our (my) days,
And may our (my) light shine brightly,
And may spirit guide our (my) way.

Sun standing still is the literal meaning of solstice. For thousands of years, all over the world, indigenous people have celebrated the sun in at it highest peak. When does modern woman/man ever take time to stand still under the sun? Yet, that is exactly what I was drawn to do this Summer Solstice. My shamanic work, has been leading me to explore soul loss at a deeper level. The lure of dedicating the solstice to journeying and journaling in the natural world compelled me. I arranged to camp the night before at a small state park that is located on a remote mountain side. The plan was to spend the solstice in a place where the sun could be seen at the start of day, felt on my face at midday and observed as it set at end of day. For protection from the rain that threatened, I chose to camp in a lean-to, the forest that surrounds it would give privacy for silent reflections or song of joy.

Sunday afternoon, I spent my time in a place that is often described as Brigadoon; better know as Coolidge Homestead a village frozen in time. My mind was filled with living in the late 1800’s as I photographed the town for a possible book idea. By early evening, I was settled before the fire reading a book. As darkness fell, the quiet was disturbed by three loud motorcycles returning to their lean-to down the hill directly in front of me.

My annoyance built as they revved the engines before shutting them down. The air filled with expletives from their loud voices, an invasion I was not prepared for. Just when I thought things would quiet down, one man prowled the woods looking for firewood. The motorcycle engine noises sounded again as the bikes were moved in front of the lean-to. The man, who had been looking for wood was now making his way up the hill in the dark next to my site.

Fear and anger sprang up inside of me as I fumed, “What was he doing in the dark so close to my space?” I had chosen this site for its quiet isolated location and the fact that no one else was camping nearby was an added bonus, now under the veil of night that illusion was shattered. “What were these men doing?” “Where was a ranger when I needed one?” Be Quiet! Stay on your site, my head cried out. At that instant I realized I they were a reflection of the world I left behind. I could calm myself and reclaim my space by standing still.

Holding onto a log, I released the fear I was feeling then fed it to the fire. Breathing deeply I reclaimed my space reminding myself that I had welcomed in the four directions, mother earth and father sky. I had set my intention for the solstice. The invasion of the outside world was lessening its hold on my physical, mental, emotional and spirit purpose for the day to come. The night settled around me once more I let the fire burning bright as I crawled into bed.

An air mattress that has a slow leak is a gamble, a 50/50 chance of still supporting you by morning. So is letting go of things that are not in your control. Delving deeper into soul loss is letting go of the old stories that have played time and time again as you live your life. The opportunity to create a new path is one way to let go of control. Walking into the unknown is a gamble. Will the old support systems still be there or will something new take its place?

Drifting off to sleep I heard the familiar call of the Barred Owl “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?” I smiled knowing that I had a friend in high places to watch over me.

More to come

I am pleased to make this addition to the website.  I couldn’t help playing with the word “boardwalk” in creating it.  As a member of the Spirit Hollow Board of directors, I feel we walk a line between holding the dream embodied in our mission statement and following Spirit Hollow’s lead as its over-arching guides and devas manifest their intent.  It is truly an amazing adventure and I marvel that the vision I was shown ten years ago, when I first came to Spirit Hollow, of people–many, many people–coming up the driveway continues to unfold.  I am thankful that my path led me here.

Here, you will find the thoughts of myself and the other board members as we step into our roles in support of the vision and dream Tracey and Emery initiated.  I hope you will visit this section frequently.

Bright blessings,

Robert

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