All in the Name of Love!

How far have you ever went to follow love's soft serenade, screaming appeal or unconscious push? What would you do for love? For me, it propels my soul to the heights of the divine and, while grounded here on Earth, it carries me thousands of kilometres away from place to place. Some say we find home where the heart lays. This is definitely my case and this summer’s movements are testament to that effect.

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_{(8:30 p.m., can you feel it, can you smell it? Isn’t the colour of this mountain reminding you of love’s sweetness, a mix of light pinks accentuated by a soft golden glow? It almost smells and tastes like rose honey… A magnificent view of Mt. Baker as seen for the ferry on my way to Nanaimo, Vancouver Island, July 27th, 2017.)}

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I had just landed back from Greece, where the jet lag of getting there in the first place was still being felt, that I was finding returned to my life here in the Northwest of British Columbia seemingly as if nothing had happened… The course started earlier had not yet reached its final destination and 20 years of living in the area would not let go of its talons deeply sunken into my soul so easily either.

_{(As a sign of multiculturalism, this unusual totem found in the Vancouver Airport International terminal Level 3, also welcomes @onceuponatime and I back home. Eastern and Western cultural symbols as well as those of the Haida Nation, where I have lived for the past ten years up till now, cover this living entity carved out of a living tree by Don Yeomans and Graham Clarke atrium as a tribute to human beings.)}

Feeling my heart strings being plucked, I knew I wasn’t alone in this state. My departure from the area was affecting many, including me, and this whole effect reverberated throughout the circle of friends. Making sure that love was the main leitmotiv of action behind every single interaction, I made sure that the ripples generated would still resonate of the respect and immense depth of soul connections I share with the beloved friends, often now considered family. Like an uplifted tree, roots and all, I feel like I am floating on a cloud of consciousness deeply rooted in the Earth with my branches and fruits often growing well above see level…

_{(Mouse Woman is wearing a new attire as I pass by… Somehow, we walk hand in hand her and I, dancing on the flows of spacetimes continuums wilderness.)}

Yet, we were and still are undeniably all on the same boat navigating on the knife-like edge of waves and currents carrying us through time, a long dance between life and death on which we learn to work, adapt and cooperate in order to prevail. In the blink of an eye, our journey here goes by under the wings of spirit, can you feel it? I can’t help it.

_{(This is one of three “Spirit of Haida Gwaii” sculptures made by Bill Reid where one finds the core of the Haida mythical beings holding the balance of life. This version called “The Jade Canoe” can also be seen on the Canadian $20.00 bill.)}

It takes years of tilling the soil of communities and individuals to end up with the gatherings available now. Yet, it keeps an air of newness that has never faded and an eagerness to experience with each other that still resounds well passed our individual selves. As soon as I landed in Terrace, along with @onceuponatime, our friend Denis came to pick us up at the airport and was informed that we had a gig on one of the city street corner for the rest of the afternoon. I guess sleep would have to wait some more.

_{(With love, healthy soil, air and waters, one can perform miracles and what started with a bunch of garlic and a clear vision, the “Funny Farm”, by Kleanza Creek, now grows over 5 thousands high quality bulbs every years!)}

We dropped off @onceuponatime and kept on going, set up the microphones, speakers, and reconvened with each other as we meet with our friend Aron Riis, an incredible musician from Haida Gwaii, and our very close friend newly registered Steemian, @teresa-robinson, a natural human metronome on the hand drums. The music was witnessed and rung into town among the light traffic of this typical Northern British Columbian town. Weaving blues and gypsy jazz with local traditional beats and Arabic styles was but a taster of the potential this little crew has to offer and it was with great joy that we reconnected live and on the spot ad lib on some old classics songs performed over the years among ourselves. It was such a treat! (Have you seen @teresa-robinson post about it yet? https://steemit.com/new/@teresa-robinson/hello-steemit-world)

_{(Humans, one horse, two goats, twelve chickens, an array of cats and dogs all find their little piece of heaven under the sky.}

Spending most of my time recovering at the “Funny Farm”, the traditional Riis family lands and compounds here in Terrace, I feel extremely grateful for the generous friendship and closeness, soulfulness and resourcefulness the people I came across this strip of land have showed me over the years.

Given these settling grounds, I was given the golden opportunity to go visit with close friends for one last time before my official move from the Northwest. I was finally on my way to Vancouver Island where love had been stirring for well over a year and a half by now. Some more restful nights and, of course as for every passage in town, more music and dancing occasions rose to the surface. Events strung themselves one after another as I was invited to drum here and there, often along with @teresa-robinson seen here below belly dancing among us ten drummers and one passionate knitter.

Terrace was my original home up north when I first moved up from Vancouver Island 20 years ago in the so-called Northern British Columbia. In fact the city is found directly halfway between the province border and the Yukon Territories, basically right in between Vancouver and Whitehorse. It is almost hard to believe the town deserves its epithet but such is the way of the general populations perspective on this matter.

I had been called to the area by a friend I had originally grew up with. From my home, when I was 7 years old, I could see Dominique’s place. Years after, at a meeting in Vancouver where neither of us knew we would be present, he had told me about this lively Terrace treasure found in the heart of the Coastal Mountains. As he knew me very well from way back, he quasi-sold me the idea to move out there by simply saying that the first nations were still vibrantly alive and that the downhill skiing was simply out of this world: Shames, the local ski resort, is renown for its monstrous snowfalls receiving over 12 meters (480 inches) of snow annually! Just to give you an idea, there are some days where one needs a snorkel to be able to “safely” breathe in the powder you travel through.

Leaving the area, is like leaving a dream but, as my father says “It is not as if the area would simply vanish overnight right? You can always go back.” On that level, the dream takes a longer time to dissipate.

Hyper aware of my screaming all to move on and be with my beloved, I left the farm around 5:30 a.m. one morning and planned to have a 2-day drive before getting to my final destination, Nanaimo. A deep heartfelt salute to @teresa-robinson, and the lands as I traversed the locations further and further away from what I called home for half of my life, a soulful nest of friends, resources and connections for life.

Reaching the outskirts of the territory where I feel so closely connected, around Smithers and Telkwa, a familiar rip-like sensation came through me as I leave the wilderness of the area and slowly find myself in lands that have long been exploited, when not pillaged, by industrialization, a well renown insidious snake of greed. This new landscape not only changes with the biomes but also with the fact that it is hard to find any areas devoid of human activity, easily recognizable by its costly heavy footprints.

Here on the boundaries between wilderness and the so-called modern world, as referred to by the collectivities living by the standards of modern living access a seemingly limitless profusion of services and products, apparently unconsciously insentient to the natural world we come from and from which we thrive.

A mandatory stop had to be done by Fraser Lake where two soulful friends live on communal lands among 7 other houses. Quasi-self sustained they were about to get married and, since I couldn’t envision seeing them any time soon, I thought I just had to spend at least enough time with them to wish them a happy wedding day and good courage throughout the adventure that is marriage. Following guidance for the inner voice, I found their place kilometres passed the end point of the map I had to get to their place. Once again, I was in good hands. After being interrogated by a man on his quad, I was directed to the bottom of the hill where I was heading and found a little log house. Jay was standing there saying goodbye to other friends I had met while they were living on Haida Gwaii.

Quickly after, I was given the house tour. at first, it felt as if their home was fairly small, but from the moment I walked in, I realized the there was much more than what met the eye. Two tall glasses of water later, we were visiting the confines of their nest. A treasure cove of brilliant books, classic vinyls, VHS tapes and DVDs, musical instruments, all the necessities for any sustainable living being and freedom loving anarchist.

Their new pup kept us in check and a quick visit to one of the close neighbour gave us access to the internet as their home isn’t fully organized yet for electrical generation.

At 7 p.m., quickly after our friend Jessiquita came back from work, I bid my farewell and headed out. As I was about to reconnect with the civilized world, a baby osprey kept a close watch over my every movement. One the picture found below, notice the size of its nest perched atop this telephone pole, it was a massive nest!

By now, enough time had elapsed for smoke from the forests fires burning British Columbia’s interior in this summer of 2017 to settle into the whole area. The haze created by its veil made the surrounding sunlight a surreal spectacle to behold and a progressively unwelcome scent wafted in every corners of the truck… The sun’s glow was moving from pink-orange to a warm red and by the time I had driven across Prince George and found myself on the outskirt of the province central city, the skies were passionate. Only an other 2 hours before reaching my usual tenting site at Lake Lassalle where I’d catch some Zs amid the smoke and the highway traffic echoing transport trucks travelling back and forth across the deep valley.

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On the next adventure, braving smoke as it is taking over the lands while I’m travelling through the heart of British Columbia encountering its tectonic displacements, wilderness and, finally, crossing the dizzying realms of Vancouver metropolis on my way to Love.

Till next time, keep on taking good care and smiling, thrive on and namaste :)