When I was a little girl, I used to look out the window at the mountains surrounding our little valley. I knew the names of each of those mountains. Those mountains held stories. Family stories. I’d look at the tall pine trees standing watch along the ridge lines, outlined against the blue sky background, and I’d imagine those trees were my ancestors. Standing watch over me. Over us. I wished on those trees. Just like my mother did when she was growing up in the same valley, watching and wishing on the same mountains, with the same evergreen centurions.
It was a soul need to hear the mountains whisper the same blessings they had whispered to Okanagan mothers and their babies for eons.
As an Okanagan tribal member who grew up in the Okanagan highlands, I’m one of the few that can claim to have grown up in their ancestral homelands. One of the even fewer indigenous people who can claim so. What with forced removal, reservations, colonization, globalization and the ease of growing up and moving away these days. But I grew up where my mother grew up and where my ancestors were always at least a seasonal presence before that. Way before that. Way before the first European ever even dreamt of putting foot on our shores.
Growing up this way, there was a sense of security and rootedness that I took for granted, as all children take the blessings they were born into for granted. I was restless. Eager to see more of the world. I went to college only two hours away but I got married shortly after graduation and moved halfway across the States. I moved again to Southwest and then to Spain.
All of this moving and seeing the world was fantastic for my wandering soul. I felt free and secure in new environments, rather than scared or uncertain.
After a few years, I divorced my first husband and ran away to Costa Rica to grieve in private and to reclaim my independence. I met a redhead with a wild look in his eye and enjoyed a brief (less than 24 hours) flirtation with him. We exchanged email addresses and a promise to let him know if I was ever back in the country. Two years went by. On another whim, I decided to go back to Costa Rica as a graduation gift to myself for finishing grad school. I emailed the redhead.
For the first time I realized that my soul needed to catch up with my body.
Ten months later I was pregnant with our first child. A year later, we broke ground on our house. Another 10 months later and I was pregnant with our second child.
In July of 2014, I sat on the gorgeous bed that my wild redhead had made with his own hands, trying to nurse our newborn second son. My body was unrecognizable to me after a second pregnancy, a second 60-pound weight gain, and a second emergency c-section. I lived on top of a cold mountain in a tropical country in a beautiful farmhouse on a beautiful farm, but it too was all unrecognizable.
I was panicking.
After 15 years of traveling and wandering the world and of calling 15 different places “home,” I felt desperate to go capital-H Home. To my homelands. But it wasn’t really homesickness. It wasn’t that I was unhappy in Costa Rica or with the redhead (I wasn’t and I’m not).
It was a primal need to see pine trees.
It was a soul need to hear the mountains whisper the same blessings they had whispered to Okanagan mothers and their babies for eons. To see the evergreen centurions standing watch on top of the ridge and to dedicate my sons into their care.
And for the first time, I realized that my soul needed to catch up with my body. My physical body was happy to wander and to put down roots half a world away from it’s homelands. But my soul had yet to anchor into this new earth. I knew I needed room to explore the spiritual wisdom of this new land while still honoring and, more importantly, remembering, the old land.
So I did the only thing I know how to do when it comes to the soul. I did the only thing I could do that let me be in both places at once: I journaled.
And now the same magical journaling process that I developed for myself, can be adapted for your own spiritual nourishment as well.
If you’re in unfamiliar territory, whether it’s motherhood, a new country, a new career or a new stage in life, DIVINA can help tether your soul to your roots while giving you the freedom to explore new horizons.
DIVINA gives you daily space and accountability to record the musings, insights and guidance from your subconscious. Dreams, intuition, synchronicity, divinations, your menstrual or lunar cycle, gratitude, signs, omens, emotions and reflections all have their place in this journal. Over time, you’ll build a compendium of insight that can be invaluable in determining just how the Divine is communicating to you and what your next move should be.
But hurry. It’s only available for a limited time.
Neptune in Pisces until 2027 is THE time to develop your dream practice, and now this fantastic book is out! I love mine! — Mystic Medusa
I love this journal more than cake. — Little Fox Tarot
DIVINA blew the doors off of my 2016– it saved so much of my sanity! — Keva, USA
Happy Holy Days,