On Uprooting Oneself…

Most people have excellent intuition. The challenge arises when they are called upon to trust it and heed its guidance – even when it means moving to the other side of the country.

Here I was, living in Ontario, with a thriving practice as an intuitive and as a yoga instructor, when I began at the start of the year to sense that I was no longer where I belonged. It started with feeling displaced, as though the town I had been calling home since the mid-90′s no longer felt that way. People continued to be friendly and welcoming, and indeed, there was no end of work for me. I could have tried to stay in Kingston and continued doing what I was doing, but the call to move was too strong. I had no choice but to listen. I kept hearing the word “Kelowna” in my mind.

Now, this is where an intuitive has no choice but to put her money where her mouth is. I had to listen to my intuition and make the move and accept whatever changes that brought forth in me, or I would become a disingenuous person, giving advice to my clients that I was not myself willing to heed. I committed to making the move, but my ego wanted a safe, cushy period of time to prepare for the shift. However, once I had stopped deliberating and the decision was made, circumstances made it so that I had less than 30 days to do the deed.

This is not uncommon when we make a decision based on intuition. The universe gives us a test. Often, the time period to accomplish the task is sped up. It’s as though God is asking how serious we are about our decision. Will we act even though things are occurring outside of our conscious control? Will we go anyway or will we cling to the familiar and miss our opportunity? I knew I had to go, even though it meant leaving friends and family behind, and embarking on a journey to a place where I knew no one and knew nothing about where I was headed.

Packing to leave Kingston

There was no time to spare. Within 24 hours of getting clear on my decision, on August 2nd, I had arranged to stay at a condo at Big White Ski Resort and had purchased a plane ticket to fly out on September 3rd. Next came organizing movers, finding work in BC, and packing my stuff. I won’t say that the move was easy. Plenty of tears were shed for the folks I was leaving behind, and it was a scary proposition to uproot myself and go to parts unknown. But, what an adventure!

The Rockies from the plane

Kelowna from the air

I had never been further west than Manitoba, and here I was, flying over the Rockies, in awe of the magnificence of this mountain range that just seemed to go on and on…  The hours spent on the plane, watching the landscape pass by below, gave me time to wonder at the monumental decision I had made. Here I was, moving on my own away from the province where I had spent most of my life, having moved to Ontario from Quebec when I was five years old. What was I doing, moving to BC? All I knew was that I was moving where I was being called to go, and I would have to trust that, even though I knew next to nothing about Kelowna.

Touching down in my new hometown, I realized that I had been given a tremendous gift – the opportunity to live in a place of such beauty in all directions, with people who welcomed me before I even arrived.

Near the top of Big White, looking at the chalets below

During my last month in Ontario, I had sent out emails to yoga studios and other contacts provided me by friends in the know, and I felt encouraged by the responses I received. Brenda Wowk of Kelowna Hot Yoga Studio was the first to connect with me. Her warm welcome made me feel right at home, and I began teaching Yin yoga at her studio the week I arrived.

My first night in Kelowna, I drove for an hour up the dark mountainside to Big White, making hairpin turns, passing steep dropoffs, and dodging deer. In the morning, I walked to the top of the mountain and surveyed the range, marvelling at the green expanse before me. For several days, I drove up and down the mountain, exploring Kelowna and looking for a place to live, since the condo was a temporary rental before the start of ski season. My ears popped each day, during the sharp descent into the Okanagan Valley. I came to realize that the wildlife own the roads in these parts. One night on my way back up the mountain, I had to stop half a dozen time for deer crossing the road. During my forays into the city, I would drive around the ducks near city park. They are quite clear on their ownership of the road and are not the least bit fussed about traffic.

The ducks own the road.

In that same first week, I found a carriage house to rent in West Kelowna surrounded by vineyards, fields and mountains, bought a car, and began to make friends in my new community. I hiked in the mountains with Brenda, and with my yogi friend, Dawn and her three rescued dogs. I attended the Wise Women Festival in Penticton, where I became gloriously lost in the dark on the way home, finding myself at Okanagan Lake at midnight. I found a park near my home where I could sit on a bench and look across the water at Kelowna and take in the beauty of the lake and the mountains. I found myself laughing at the flocks of quail that would run along in front of me and hide in the bushes where I passed, looking much like old ladies in cocktail hats toddling off for their afternoon tea.

So, I take this adventure a day at a time, humbled and grateful to have been led here, looking to continue learning what my higher wisdom wants me to know, and recognizing that I am indeed taken care of, and that God/the Universe/All That Is reaches out to me through my mind, my heart, the mountains and the wind, and every smiling face that welcomes me, and all those in kindness who wish me well wherever I walk the earth. Namaste and blessings to you all.

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