For myself, I can be in "right relationship" with manifestation when it does not involve money, and as soon as it does, which is usually quite quickly (!), I flip upside down and begin to take  control of the process, figuring out how to get/create/manifest the money so that I can do what I want to do.  This flip happens so quickly that I have not even perceived it, so easily do I move into thinking I need to have control, power and dominion over the process of creation and generation.

Of course, in doing so, I only limit its possibilities and thwart its flow of magic and potential. In actuality, it is quite arrogant and egocentric of me to think that I know better or more than Spirit does.  This divine energy is all about Life creating Life, and here I am diverting the flow into my little "this is how it should be done" belief system and this is what comes first.  More fool me.

I stepped out of the circle of creation and tried desperately to make it a straight and logical line.

Again, more fool me.  Anyone who has been pregnant, and I have been four times, knows that it takes the masculine and the feminine to create new life, and that the process, even the birth, is anything but straight, logical and predictable!

As I approached the Saints Way out of the Eden Project, I desperately (and I use that word deliberately) wanted to go to the left, and up and over to the hill to the right and back to Great Prideaux Farm where the paths intersect.  I kept trying, only to be met by big lorries (trucks) and heavy traffic.  Pause.  Recalibrate.  And go down the road to the right.  

It was a quiet and dark road, dense with old beech trees and undergrowth.  I quieted down for the first time that morning, feeling myself out of St. Austell and back into the countryside for the first time that day. I sang my "I am walking the path of the Mary's" chant, and had a bounce back in my step.  I anticipated connecting with the path where Karen and I had walked together, and even more, I was looking forward to understanding where and how we got lost and off the path.

In joy, I reconnected with the Saints Path, celebrating with pictures as I saw the familiar signposts for the first time! I walked back up the hill to the field where the cows had surrounded us in curiosity, and to the very spot at the top of the hill where we had reconnected with the Saints Path ourselves. From here, I crossed over the stile and walked through a field and down through some gorgeous woods with ancient grandmother trees.  (We had missed this section entirely before!)  I came out at Trevanney Farm and knew exactly what had happened. We had been so, so close to the path, yet coming from the other direction, there was no way to see the stile into the woods. Moreover, as I trudged further through the fields of this farm, I found a Saints Way signpost, lying down on its side on a farm cart.  Perhaps the farmer had no malicious intent to confuse the pilgrim, but he also had no desire to serve and assist.  A simple signpost would have so easily guided the pilgrim on the path.

The mirror lies in when we solely rely on external signposts to show us the way, we lose our way.  Whether we rely on any external situations, people or circumstances to confirm or deny our own experiences, we become dependent on them to confirm or defend our choices, decisions, positions, and then end up giving over our power to others.  They then have to power to not only affirm, but to also confuse, or divert us from the true path.  We then become lost, confused, unsure, and no longer know how to get from where we are to where we want to be.  We have disconnected from ourselves, our dreams, desires, longings, goals and destinations, even our divinity and capacity as master creators, and come to rely on others for our choices, directions, confirmation that what we are doing is right and successful, and ultimately, for our right to be here and exist.

What will it take for us to bring back these external signposts - money, fame, success, being loved and accepted, the right to exist, love and choose - into our being?  What will it take for us to reconnect with our core selves, our soul and spirit, and to trust and follow our own internal compass?  It is as though we have handed over our personal divining rod to someone else, or something else, outside of ourselves, to tell us what to do, how to do it, if we are doing it good enough, right enough, and then forgotten that we even gave them the divining rod, much less that we had our own divining rod in the first place!

This is the gift of walking a sacred path.  We get to practice through the experience of walking, the art of following a path that has a special energy to it. We get to learn when we are on it, when we are not, where we made a choice or decision to get on or off, and what it feels like when we are on the path.  Even more, we get to experience when the path is actually on the energy line and when it too may have gotten diverted, and is just following a line to get from point A to point B.  We also get to open to the different ways a path communicates with us - through feeling, obstacles or clear openings, or perhaps people along the way who suggest or outright tell you to go this way or that way, or ask you a question about your journey.

As one of many examples, I stopped at a fruit and vegetable stand on a short stretch of an A road outside of Perranwell that was located just a few feet from a bridlepath I was told to walk up.  The woman at the stand asked me where I was going, and when I told her that was going up the bridlepath to St.Pirans Well, she told me NO, that I did not want to go up this path as it was very steep and slippery.  She lived at the farm at the top of the hill, and she found the slope even too steep with her horse, and that with my heavy pack, she strongly suggested that I go down the A road a little further before turning up a little side road.  My will wanted to follow the directions in the guidebook - "this is the path", I told myself.  Yet I also knew that I had stopped at the stand for a reason, and even though I bought some plums, (that I never ate because they never ripened) I thought it best to listen and heed the advice of a local person.  I walked up the little road, ended up at the church where a handyman was working and who directed me to St. Pirran's Well where I had a sweet and simple magical experience with Mary!

Do I listen to the Path and actually allow it to "guide, provide and protect me every step of the way", or do I impose my will and what I think it should be, and where I should walk, and tell it how it should be?

When we receive these gifts and lessons into our daily lives, we can live each day, each moment as a pilgrimage.We can live and walk with awareness that every choice we make has a consequence, and either it will take us along a guided path aligned and connected with the Divine and Sacred, and be informed with joy, ease and glory, or it will take us down a path of suffering, hardship, working hard, and thinking that we know best, and that this is how it is.  This will be a "fine" life and we will convince ourselves that this is as good as it gets,so be grateful and get on with it.  But what if this is just but a taste, or a tease, of how magnificent it can truly be?  What if it is truly possible to live in Heaven on Earth?

I walked through Trevanney Farm, across the fields with the cows who looked at me with recognition and amusement, into Luxulyan. I cleared off one of the signposts that had been grown over with ivy, even getting stung by stinging nettle in the process.  The signposts are there to guide us, to give us direction, and confirmation that we are headed in the right direction. Yet, ultimately, they are only there to guide us.  We both get to, and have to choose, to walk the path in the first place, to follow the path, to stay on the path, and where and when our path diverges from it.  

I knew as I walked down the hill into the woods, to the familiar stile that I was crossing for the third time and the familiar puddle with the vertical log lying through it, that I had righted the path for myself and come back into right relationship with myself, my dreams and desires, and the natural and divine process to manifest, create and receive them.  I was now, and am, right side up, with my roots in the ground, and my heart and arms open to the sky, connected to all that is right and good in the world, and walking the way of Love, Light and Life.

I am home.  

Box, near Bath.

Just arrived with Michael and Malie back at my cousin's house. Felt like comig home. So good to be with Michael again and to be in this phase of my journey. So so different from my first few weeks. Everything feels like it has speeded up. Instead of 12 miles a day, we now move at 12 miles in 15-20 minutes!

Got to visit Stonehenge this afternoon. Mostly just felt the energy of the place and stones, and even walked around going clockwise, even though we are directed to go anti-clockwise....felt so good to turn around and move the other way!

Will continue to post on my reflections from the path. Have had a few minor techno glitches that resulted in my losing some of what I wrote. Now I must spend a little bit of quiet, focused time reconstructing my thoughts, so will be posting shortly.

Iwonder how my pilgrimage experiences are integrating into my being and my body as I engage with these next phases of my travels?

Solvitur Ambulando!

"Desire is the starting point of all achievement, not a hope, not a wish, but a keen pulsating desire that transcends everything."

Napoleon Hill 

Lostwithiel 4.

The image of the sacred circle of stones with a vertical stone in the middle has been with me throughout this journey.  I first experienced it at Boscawen-un just outside of St. Buryan in western Cornwall on the second day of my pilgrimage.  This circle is a very ancient, potent and powerful circle of stones that invited me in to lie down in the middle next to the vertical stone, with the intention to open and receive its energies.

Since then, I have been mulling over the stone circles, and the image of the circle and the point in the middle.  I believe that it is an ancient symbol that speaks powerfully and directly to our heart, soul and psyche and does not even engage the mental mind.

A very personal aspect of this journey for me is the possibility, and actually even the intention of, sacred union of the masculine and feminine within myself.  I deliberately and consciously invited this intention into my journey, and then experienced the intimate ceremony in the circle at Boscowen-un.  To be transparent, I didn't know totally what I invited in with this intention.  All I knew was that this was an important and necessary request for my walking.   I was walking the Mary Michael Line, and clearly, it is not just the Mary Line or the Michael Line alone.  I had learned, and have now experienced that they actually cannot exist without the other. They each inform and contribute to the other in profound ways as they together wind, weave, and intersect their way across England.  I chose to walk the Mary Michael Line, and as such, it is a journey of the Sacred Feminine and Divine Masculine in sacred relationship together. It seemed clear that I too was being invited to weave and integrate the masculine and feminine within me.

What I am curious about is why is this happens to be the energy and intention of my journey as I reconnect and reclaim my roots to come home?

The Michael Line is an energy ley line that goes straight like an arrow from Carn Les Boel where the energy enters England, through various points including Lostwithiel, Glastonbury, and Avebury, all the way to the eqast coast in Norfolk. It is masculine in its energy, straight with focus and direction, aligned with the midsummer sun, the time of year when the sun is at its most potent and masculine.  It does not curve, or waver.  It is like a sword, touching down on Earth on the top of the highest hills and mounds, with intensity and conviction.  When I am on a point along the Michael Way, I am exposed to the sun and sky, touching the heavens, either high up on a hill or mound, or under a tall steeple of a church dedicated to St. Michael.

Alternatively, the Mary Line is feminine in its essence.  It weaves and follows the curves of the land, rivers and waters.  It snakes through and around the valleys, and hills.  It is soft, curvy, round and flowing.  It never leaves the Earth, an is actually part of the Earth, connected to the curves and undulations, perhaps even contributing to its formation.  This line carries the serpent energy of the goddess and is present and alive in the wells, lush woods and rich undergrowth along the way.  When I am connected with the Mary Line, I am aware of a sweetness, a moistness and a sensuality that delights my senses and undulates in my body.

When the two lines intersect, the power and the potency is even more visceral and strong.  Carn Les Boel was magnificent in its raw beauty and power sitting on the coast.  Tregonning Hill called me up to its peak late in the evening, before a dark and rainy night. From the top, I felt a presence and a power as overlooked this ancient and sacred land.

A while later, I went across the old bridge into the center of town to buy myself some water and chocolate, and while I was paying for these items, I impulsively bought myself a Euro Lottery ticket.  Amused at this unchararcteristic purchase, I put it in my wallet, and walked back over the river and up the hill to my sweet room above the pub.

The next morning I was on my way back to St. Austell on the 9am train.  A 15 minute train ride to take me to the starting place for a day long walk.  It took me a little while to get out of St. Austell, which gave me the time to think about the lottery ticket I had bought the evening before, and what role it might play in this sacred pilgrimage.

I even began to allow myself to dream and fantasize about what I would do with the money should I win the lottery!  I felt myself expand into possibility as the constraints of financial considerations and realities melted away.  My footsteps became lighter with each step.  I laughed outloud as I walked.  I gave myself  permission to really dream.  Even more, I gave myself permission to really, truly, deeply want and desire  to live in England.

The image of the sacred circle of stones came back into my mind's eye...the circle with the vertical stone in the middle, like a sword in the ground.  

I knew then in that moment that this sacred image and circle of stones was an ancient expression of the Law of Creation and Manifestation. The sacred stones hold the Law in form and stone, rather than words.  They are the expression of the law itself.

The stone in the middle was the act of receiving and declaring our sacred and courageous dreams and desires and the stone circle was the cauldron, or womb, in which the desire is received and acted upon with the alchemical and feminine energies of receptivity and creation.  Together, they combine and create something new, something that has not existed before, and that is deeply rooted and connected to and aligned with our soul's greatest expression, creation, service, contribution and fulfillment.

The download and revelation continued to flow through me as I walked.

As we fully allow our desires and give ourselves permission to feel them, even have them, and then give ourselves the mandate to fulfill them, this then is our stake in the ground, the sword of St. Michael, carrying the Light of the Sun and connected to our hearts, bringing forth inspiration, courage and purpose to our actions.  We plant the sword deep into the Earth, and adopt a commitment to be whoever we need to be, to do whatever we need to do, as to serve and fulfill our deepest dreams and desires.  In doing so, we commit to serve in the highest good, aligned with the ways of Love and Nature, with Earth herself, to fulfill and be of the highest service, and to surrender to the journey, knowing and trusting that the Path will guide, provide and protect each and every step of the Way.

All we have to do as humans is to know, feel, accept, and fully allow ourselves our soul's longings and desires.  To imagine life lived with our desires fully manifest.  To delight in dreams come true.  To experience the contribution this has made to others through their smiles, gratitude and well-being.

I feel the need to add and clarify here that these desires and longings of which I speak are of the heart and soul.  They are not the trivial desires associated with the ego, or more for the sake of more.  No. These are desires that speak to us in the language of dreams, sacred symbols, metaphor and with a persistence that does not go away over time.  They may be buried, or even forgotten, but they do not go away.  They are the call from the Divine to pull us, guide us, and show us the way to fulfill our soul's contract and mission here on Earth in this lifettime.  They are the yellow arrows on our personal Camino, Way and pilgrimage of our life.

Somewhere along the way we humans became confused and lost, and misinterpreted our desire for wealth, comfort and safety as our soul's desires.  To further complicate the issue, we became distrustful of the process of manifestation when our ego's desires did not manifest as we thought they should, and turned more and more to willful work, mindless employment and slavery and subservience to those who had what we thought we wanted.  We gave away our wisdom and power as we moved further and further away from Nature, our spiritual roots, and  the true source of all abundance.  We became more distrustul and more enslaved.  Simply, we forgot who we really are as magnificent manifestors, forgot that we were created in the likeness of God in freedom and love.

I then realized that this is how we as a human race have it all upside down.  To get what we want, we have been trained to go from A to Z, when all we have to do is be at Z, and simply, receiveZ and allow the details from Y to A to get filled in for us.  We are too quick to think that we have to know how to get to Z, and what it will require, and this in turn, actually blocks and impedes the flow, magic, miracles and ease with which we can actually experience and receive Z.

We get especially hung up when money is involved - which it usually is on some level.  We have presumed that we have to know and have the money first  IN ORDER TO create, generate and have what we want.  This is crazy, human, backwards, upside down thinking.

Such was the magic and invitation of buying the lottery ticket.

Lostwithiel 3.

Sitting back in my little coffee shop, the Duchy, I am honored to have  spent the day with the mayor, Gill Parsons.  She walked me around town, sharing with and showing me the Mayor's Quarters with its ceremonial robes, safe and historical pictures of royal visits.  She even invited me to sign the Visitor book which has also been signed by the Queen, and Prince Charles and Camilla. I am honored.

The Edgecombe House, which houses the mayor's office and the town clerk's office, was the site of the "Hoskin Family Grocery" shop which later became Hoskin Drapery and Fabrics shop at the beginning of the 20th century.  Sitting In the Mayor's office on the mantlepiece was the original metal measuring rod used to measure fabric, its length being 45 inches with a special hook for the 36 inchyard.  We also went by the Duchy Palace where all of the town's records were originally stored, plus where they weighed the tin and measured its quality.  It is now re-owned by the monarchy and has gone under a million refurbishment and is now available for let.  Gill grew up right next door to the Palace, inbetween it and the Debtor's Gaol (jail). Her father and grandfather were butchers, and the slaughterhouse was just down the road, and Gill remembers when blood would run in the street from the slaughtering of the cows.  Such a different life even fifty years ago! 

As we talked, we also discovered that Gill's cousin, James Martin, lives thirty minutes from me in Colorado, and that she has actually visited Boulder.  We talked about the Cornish mining communities in Montana, Michigan and Wisconsin and how she was served the perfect pasty by another cousin's wife.  Turns out that this woman was taught by Cornish women who had emigrated to Wisconsin for the mining opportunities.

I was impressed by the deep history of this town and the area, dating back to the 1100's, 1500's, 1800's - and even this past century.  

I am still not sure what my personal connection is to this particular area, but I am aware that I like it here, and would love to explore and experience the area and this town more deeply and extensively.  I wonder how this is possible?!

So, after my delicious fish pie for lunch, I am heading up to Restormel Castle for the afternoon.  Most likely, I will then catch the train to Liskeard this afternoon and spend tomorrow walking from St. Neot to St. Cleer to complete my personal journey with the Mary Line.  I will get to walk to the Hurlers and Cheesewring with Maureen, my friend whom I met last fall with my father.  She is the Grand Bard of the Cornish Gorsedd, whose mission is to bring the Cornish language back to life and  use in Cornwall.  We will spend Thursday walking and talking and exploring how I can learn and use Cornish even while I am in Colorado!

Lostwithiel 2.

A grey and heavy Tuesday morning.  It's raining but when I looked up toward Restormel Castle, it was hidden in fog. Interesting that today is my day to experience Restormel.  As I was checking out of the Chatham Pub, a local man mentioned Restormel with a warm tone in his voice, especially when he mentioned the view.  Yes, I said.  The view.  What I didn't say was that it was the view that told me I was home when I looked out across the valley over thirty years ago.  

And...why I am here now, walking and exploring in Cornwall, and especially right here.

I have spent the last couple of nights here, and yesterday spent the day walking from St. Austell back to Lostwithiel. I took the 9am train back to St. Austell, and got off into a heavy mist.  Towns are always the trickiest places to navigate, so I spent some time just standing at the train station trying to get my bearings.  I saw the church steeple, so headed down toward it. It did not feel right to walk the Clay Trails, as directed in my MaryMichael guidebook.  So I felt my way through the city, starting at the spirals on the Celtic cross at the church.

I actually loved my walk through the town, finding a wonderful bakery with "Rock" buns and chocolate crispy treats.  I then also passed a little storefront location that said "ACCORD MEDIATION SERVICES!!  That is the name of Steve, my husband's business in Colorado, so of course I took pictures, and even went inside and spoke to the office administrator.  

I had seen a path on the map so followed my nose to find the path, going right by a very happy school, as evidenced by the beautiful mosaics and happy children.

I had seen a path on the map so followed my nose to find the path, going right by a very happy school, as evidenced by the beautiful mosaics and happy children.

I then went over the motorway and through some thick woods, to arrive in Carlyon and the a wonderful surprise, a circle of stones surrounded in briars and thistles.

It was actually a journey in and of itself to get out of St. Austell, past the Eden project and back on the official Mary path.  I actually feel as though I was on my own Mary path.  Perhaps though, I am now on the Sarah Way, and have been since I left the path back in Penpol last Thursday.

That's it actually.  The path has not felt as clear or spelled out for me since I came off the "official" path last week.  I am experiencing a different quality now, where I truly have to trust and follow my own senses, desires, needs and intentions to move forward.

Just now, I spoke with Ricky, my 90 year old, new friend from Lostwithel, who just set up an appointment to meet with the mayor of Lostwithiel, a Mrs. Parsons.

More about this later.  Must finish my latte and go to meet the mayor!

I wonder what else is possible?!

Lostwithiel 1.

A cozy afternoon in Lostwithiel. I feel as though I have walked this pilgrimage to come here, and now find myself a little nervous to actually go out to explore and experience this place.   Yet I haven't walked here...yet.  I came down in the car with Diana after our wonderful weekend together up at Port Isaac on the north coast.  Tomorrow I will walk here from St. Austell, so perhaps then I will explore more directly what I came here for.

I am using my little room in the Earl of Chatham Pub/Inn as my base from which to walk the Mary Michael Line from St. Austell to Lostwithiel, and Restormel and perhaps Lanhydrock and Baconnoc as well.  From here I will go up to St. Neot and St. Cleer to complete my pilgrimage in Liskeard, where my father was born and brought up.

So much has transpired since I last wrote. First of all, I realized that while the weight of my pack is fine for my hips, back and legs, it does shift how my feet are positioned in my boots, and as a result, I have developed some very painful blisters in my right foot baby toe.  So, I am inviting ways to walk without my pack. I thought that I would be staying in St. Austell tonight and walking to Lostwithiel tomorrow, but Diana suggested that I stay here, take the train to St. Austell in the morning and walk back here.  Brilliant!  I hadn't even thought of that option.  So the next two days will be lightweight, day pack days! So much easier on my feet and also to climb over the stiles! 

My interlude with Diana up at Port Isaac was perfect on so many levels.  We had last been there together at Easter in 1982 when we came down with her parents to visit her grandmother.  We had a lovely weekend then, and we had a lovely weekend now.  We stayed at an old Victorian house converted into a hotel and restaurant above Port Isaac where we had a lovely simple room and a restaurant with delicious food right there.  They also had "Orchard" Golden Cider brewed by a local brewery in Rock, called Sharps.  www.sharpsbrewery.co.uk  Last fall, I discovered their cider  and Steve discovered their beer, Doom Bar. We had even gone to the brewery to buy gifts of t-shirts and glasses, and I knew that I wanted to go back and buy a collection of pint and cider glasses.  Diana and I made it just before they shut for the weekend and I now have my special glasses to take back to the States with me! Don't worry- I am not carrying them.  Diana took them home with her, and I wll pick them up next weekend when I go to stay with her.

A view of the sunset and rainbow that blessed during our first dinner together.

Yesterday, we took a lovely coastal path 4-hour walk from Port Quin to Port Isaac and then back up through waving fields of grain. The sun came in and out, the wind blew, and there were wildflowers, cows and seagulls coloring our path.  We walked up and down steep paths, and over hills to come in Port Isaac, where Diana's grandfather had been the town doctor for many years.  Diana grew up visiting this small town every year, coming to know the area well, and getting to meet and know many of the locals through her family.  She loves this area, and feels a deep connection. We talked alot about stories of her grandmother, who outlived her grandfather by many, many years, and also about the changes in the village.  Whereas the locals used to live down by the sea, and the shops served the locals with a bakery, butcher, etc, now the shops cater to the visitors (the tourists).  We ate lunch in the building that used to be the local schoolhouse.  When a new, more modern school was built up the hills, the children lamented that "how will we know when the tide comes in/goes out."  I wonder if the children began to lose some of their connection to the natural forces when they moved their learning away from the sea.

Diana and I have known each other since we were babies and our mothers would get together daily for a morning coffee while their husbands went off to work at Procter and Gamble in Newcastle.  Both families came from the south of England and had to make new friends while living so far up north. Our mothers are now eighty, and my father too.  Unfortunately, Diana's father died back in 1990. It is very special for our parents, and now Diana and I, to be such good friends fifty plus years later!

I have just enjoyed a delicious breakfast of smoked salmon and scrambled free range eggs with a cup of cappuccino in this sweet little cafe, one of Diana's favorites in Dorchester.  It was named for the title of the last play to be performed in the small theater at the back of the premises about one hundred years ago.  Or so the story goes...

I am so enjoying the time alone to reflect and catch up with myself and these past few days.  Today is Monday.  I completed my walking pilgrimage last Tuesday, wrote on Wednesday and Thursday was spent with Maureen Fuller, Sowena her Cornish name, who is the Grand Bard of the Cornish Gorsedh, before leaving Cornwall.

I got to spend 16 days in Cornwall. 16 days!  I was sad to leave, yet knew that it was time.   From Cornwall, I took the train from Plymouth, just over the River Tamar from Cornwall, to Chippenham, near Bath, to stay with my cousin, Liz and her family in the little town of Box.  Her father and my mother are brother and sister, and grew up in nearby Bristol. I stayed a couple of nights there this time, and got to see my uncle and aunt, and two of my other cousins, Georgie and her family who live down the hill, and Churton who drove over in his VW van to join us all for dinner, go to a party, and spend the weekend in Box, as he was also going to babysit Natal, Liz's 3 year old son.  I loved getting to be with family.  I experienced a deep feeling of familiarity and ease.  In this way, it doesn't matter that I have only been with them less than twenty times in my life.  Our connection is timeless.  In other ways, it matters deeply.  It is a rare and special experience to be with people with whom you are blood related, and should not be only experienced a handful of times in one's life.  There is a reflection of who one is, quirks, warts, beauty and all, between family members.  Perhaps because I have not experienced this  much in my life, I appreciate it so deeply and do not take it for granted.  Also, I know that this has contributed to the relationship between my children and nieces and nephews.  My brother, sister and I knew that we wanted our children to grow up with and experience an alive and connected relationship with their cousins that would evolve and grow naturally through much time and many shared experiences.  

From Box, I spent Saturday afternoon with a soul friend, Celia Dunn and her husband, Antony, at their home south of Bath.  Celia picked me up from the bus station in Bath, and brought me to her home and gardens about twenty minutes away.  I will write a whole blog writing on my synchronistic and soul-reorganizing visit with Celia and her "Chakra Garden" as it was an experience and journey in and of itself.  Suffice it to say for now, our time was rich, full and deeply resonant, and an auspicious confirmation of my soul's path.  

Celia then dropped me back off at the train station in Bath "on time, in time" with three minutes to spare before I hopped on a meandering train through Somerset and Dorset to Dorchester, where my friend, Diana, has lived for the past three years.  I am staying here with her until I take a train very, very early on Wednesday morning to meet Michael and Malie at Gatwick airport and move into the final phase of my journey here, this visit.  The three of us will be traveling in a little rental car, and return via Stonehenge and Avebury to Box and my cousin, Liz's, house for two nights.  Michael will get to meet his extended English family for the first time, as well as visit Bristol, Bath, and perhaps Cardiff (for something related to Doctor Who and Torchwood). We will then go to Oxford for two nights to experience both the town and the university, and perhaps the Cotswolds too.  We will complete our car journey with a Sunday lunch and night with the other side of the family!  We will stay with Karen and Tony in Kent, and get to spend the afternoon with Auntie Pat, my 90 year old aunt, who is my father's sister.  I am so excited for Michael to get to meet and spend time with all of them too...I wonder what reflection of himself he will experience?!

From Kent we return the car at Gatwick Airport, meet up with Malie's parents who will have just arrived from Rome, and together we will head into London for a few days before Michael and I return to the States.  While I am looking forward to being with my immediate family again, I don't know that I am ever ready to leave England.  

I just want to be here, live here.  I wonder what it will take for me to root back here, find my home and be here with my family?

I think that I had to write all of this to prepare myself for this next leg of my journey.  It is a strange transition to leave the quiet and solitude of walking a sacred path by oneself in a more remote area of the country and come into more people, less (if any) walking, and conversations with others and not just with myself.  It's all so good and wonderful - it's just very different from my previous few weeks.  Funnily enough, and in a confusing way, I also feel very connected to this area of the country.  Of course, it's all still considered the southwest and it is where my families are from - father's family from Cornwall, mother's family from Somerset. So, it's no wonder that I feel a connection and resonance with this overall area.  

I do wonder where I will be called to put down my roots. I do wonder so much about my pull to England and wonder on so many levels where it is all leading me, and how it will all manifest and unfold.  I do wonder what it will take to include my children and family in all of this!  I do wonder what magic and miracles that Spirit has up its sleeve to make apparent this crazy and wonderful dream of mine to live and reside with grace, joy, ease and glory in England!

Sitting in my friend, Diana's, dining room actually writing on a computer rather than on my iPhone!  I feel so spread out and in luxury.  I have been feeling a range of emotions since completing my walk on the Mary Michael Path last week.  While it felt so right and I felt so complete at the time, now I am wondering if I left prematurely, yet even as I type this, I know that this feeling on unsureness is much more about "now what?" more than "should I still be walking?". I spent the day last Wednesday writing - and bringing my pilgrimage to a close.  I knew it was complete, and although quite shocked by this awareness, as initially I had expected to walk through all of Cornwall, I also learned, if nothing else(!), to listen to and honour the path.  To have continued to have walked at this point would have been me pushing out of a concept or an idea, a should, rather than a deep honouring of my journey, my intentions, and myself.

I feel as though I wrote my most intimate writing on the Wednesday, which is why I have not yet posted it here on the blog.  Quite truthfully, I am nervous to share with you my most intimate awarenesses and revelations.  What if they are so off-base, so crazy, or even worse, so ridiculously obvious that you would be judging me for needing to actually walk all these miles to see and understand them?  And yet, they are the gifts of my path, from my walking, and while maybe you already know and live the gifts that I had to walk to receive, it has been my path to walk, to understand, to embody these spiritual lessons of life, love, and creation.  

To keep them to myself at this point is out of fear, concern, and stinginess.  So, I will share them with you, whoever you may be!

Now my journey has taken another turn.  I am in transition to return to my life.  I have been spending time with family and old friends.  My days are spent in short walks, long conversation, with home cooked food, mostly inside. Diana and I even watched a film last night.  Early on Wednesday morning, I meet my son, Michael and his friend, Malie, and then we rent a car and drive in an hour or two places it would have taken me days to walk to on foot. I can feel my life pulling on me to come back to it.  I am painfully aware of the constraints, doubts, shoulds and "how am I ever going to...?" rise to the surface and bury some of my optimism, hope and clarity.  I can feel myself becoming a little wobbly, unsure, scared and defensive about my dreams and desires.

Yet even here is the opportunity for both/and.  It is not just to live on the sacred path away from loved ones and one's life.  It truly is the command and challenge of a pilgrimage journey to bring the gifts from the path home with you, and weave them into your life, and with intention, patience and acceptance, align your life with the path.  To bring your life into the sacredness of the path.  

Such is the journey home.

Solvitur Ambulando!  

It was an unusual pilgrim experience for me to come off the path in the middle of a pilgrimage. I questioned it, yet it happened so easily that I could feel that there was something very right about it.

I actually came off the path on Thursday night when Sheila ran after me and invited me into her home.  Looking back, I now know that her invitation was much more than what it originally seemed.  Sheila lives right on the Mary line.  Her home comes down to the water right in front of her house.  Aware of it or not, she is a keeper and protector of the path.  Sheia's coming after me was actually a message from the path to call me off of it.

I had been feeling a lot of resistance and questioning about this next section. Something didn't feel right, but I could not place my finger on what it was.  I knew on a certain level that once I left Perranwell Station that I was committed to twenty-five miles on quite isolated walking.  But I knew that it was something more than that.

Unsure of what I was feeling or even what I was resisting, I woke up with a clear idea to call Richard Dealler - www.marymichaelpilgrimsway.org - who is responsible for translating and mapping the dowsing of these sacred paths into a walking path and guidebook.  Of course, Richard answered when I called, and we then had a wonderful, fifteen-twenty minute conversation about the section of the path between King Harry Ferry and St. Austell.  He confirmed what I have been feeling, and even he was struck by that he is walking with a group next week to the Fal (King Harry Ferry), and then another group in August leaving from St. Austell, and that he too will not be walking this section inbetween.  Interesting, eh?  

I realized that my resistance was well founded, for two different reasons on different levels.  On one level, that the path to walk and detailed in the guidebook does not actually follow the Mary line in this section because it cannot, due to main roads and the geography not supporting public paths.  As a result, I was going to end up walked ten or more miles on paved roads.  On another level, I became very aware that there is an energy to the path here that is not open and inviting, and that actually there has been some deep trauma that has not been cleared from this area.  Richard writes about the execution and quartering of a Catholic monk, Cuthbert Main, and of which one of these quarters was hung on the bridge at Tregony as a warning to other.  I was to walk across that bridge.  As Richard and I talked, I could feel in my body and became very clear that I am not to walk this section by myself. WIth a group sometime perhaps, but not this time, and not alone. 

So, similar to Richard, I will reconnect with the Mary Line at St. Austell and walk across to Lostwithiel, intesecting with the Saints Way (that my cousin, Karen, and I walked nearly two weeks ago) near Luxulyan.  It was also at this point that Karen and I walked in circles and could not quite figure out how it happened.  Strange that was where these two ancient and sacred paths cross. I am curious to experience this area again tomorrow and see how I fare the farmer who seems to delight in confusing signposts on his land!

I am so grateful for Sheila being a guide along my path, and pulling me off at the absolutely perfect spot, for Richard being available to assist me to uncover the mysteries of this clouded section before St. Austell, and for Diana being with me as we walked in spirals along the north coast in this area of Cornwall that we both feel and experience such a deep connection.  

I do feel something different in this area that I have not felt elsewhere in Cornwall. Even though I loved west Cornwall and its wildness out on the end of the penninsula, and even as my Penzance proprietor said to me, "the veils are much thinner down here", I feel a connection and resonance to the land and people here in mid-Cornwall in my belly and heart.  I wonder what magic and miracles I will experience as I actually walk this ancient and sacred land over these next few days!