Since I got back from Canada in April it has all been a little hit and miss. I stayed with a friend for a while until I found a house where I was sure I was going to live for a while and put some serious effort into getting my message out there.
But, the longer I stayed in one place the more disjointed I felt and I was becoming lower and lower with each passing day. I woke up one Friday morning, stuck a sofa bed mattress in the back of my tiny Kia Picanto and heading off to the woods for a few days to get a bit of perspective.
The final day of the trip I was still none the wiser; I thought I might have just needed a break. I was sat outside a small cafe in a quintessentially English village in the Peak District with the sun shining and I should have been in heaven. This is what other people’s heaven’s look like, right!? Well I wasn’t. I felt like a failure.
I pulled out my pad and started writing a letter to myself which started “What the fuck is wrong with you?” After four pages of scribbling I knew what was going to happen – I was heading to Scotland with wheels as a home.
Part of my issue was I had been feeling disconnected to both Spirit and nature. My world had become bricks, laptops and supermarkets – and my soul was suffering. I needed North.
The North is the direction of the Ancestors; the space where the veil is inherently thinner. Every winter I tend to head North and hadn’t realised until this year why this was.
The Winter is season of death. Of going inside ourselves and doing the work that is needed to get to the next stage in our development, evolution or, quite simply, life. Whether through busyness or simply being on automatic pilot, we forget that we have a choice.
Two weeks later I am in a small Campervan with an 8yr old rescue Doberman called Shu and we have just spent our second night in Scotland.
Driving from the south of England, every mile we put behind us I was feeling lighter and lighter, happier and happier; I laughed properly for the first time in a long time.
My spark was back.
As we were driving through the Lake District with the hills on either side of us, I looked up and saw one of the hills move and look at me. This hasn’t happened to me in a good six months so I know I am on the right trail.
I have no clue where all this is leading or how much I will be cursing myself in minus 10 sat by a loch but do you know what.
At least I am now living.