contact Katrina
katrina @ katrinadreamer (dot) com
Sometimes, what you’re expecting to get out of an experience is far different than what actually happens. And when you live in the flow, allowing the present moment to unfold, you also allow the universe to speak to you.
That’s what happened to me in Wales.
A year ago today I was staying in a drafty old house there with a perfect stranger.
I met the woman through an online group I’m a part of, and when she saw I was traveling to the UK, she suggested I stop into Wales and pay her a visit.
It turned out I had Welsh ancestry, so I took her up on it.
It sounds crazy now: I went to stay with a woman I’d never met in a country I’d never been to and she wasn’t even part of an organization like WWOOF or the Findhorn Foundation.
But it turned out her cold stone house in the verdant hills of Wales was just where I needed to be for that week in May.
Not because I connected with my Welsh ancestry. In fact, I didn’t connect with the land or my ancestors much at all in Wales.
No, I was there to connect with two women who’d made journeys of their own.
I couldn’t leave the house without a ride from my host: she lived out in the boondocks on a bumpy farm road miles from the nearest train station.
So instead of traveling the verdant hillsides of Wales every day, I spent most of my time curled up on the couch or in bed with a good book.
My host had plenty of them. Her shelves overflowed with books, but she admitted she’d barely read any of them. She jokes with people that they should read her books and tell her what they’re about.
I found two right away that caught my eye: Traveling Light by Robyn Davidson and Deep Water Passage: A Spiritual Journey at Midlife by Ann Linnea.
Both had the theme of women taking risks through travel. Just two weeks into my own adventure, the subject matter spoke deeply to me.
I blazed through Traveling Light, an anthology of Davidson’s writing. The section that I remember most vividly was one taken from her book Tracks describing her 1,700-mile solo trek across the deserts of west Australia…on the back of a camel.
I couldn’t put it down. The trials that woman went through, the heartache, the misery, the triumph…I felt like I could face anything on my trip after reading her story.
And then I picked up Ann Linnea’s book. Her tale resonated in every cell.
Linnea’s journey took her 1,200 miles around Lake Superior, making her the first woman to circumnavigate the lake in a kayak.
But the book was less about the physical feat and more about dealing with her grief at losing one of her best friends to cancer and her angst about whether or not to get a divorce.
As I’d just gone through my own versions of loss and stepping onto a new path, I saw a lot of myself in her.
Throughout her journey she braved terrible storms, the threat of hypothermia, and the ecstasy and pain of being alone (for part of her trip she kayaked without a partner). I scribbled down numerous quotes from the book, hoping they’d give me inspiration in the days to come.
I thought about Linnea and Davidson many times on my trip, especially when things got tough. They became two of my trip angels.
I imagined Linnea in her kayak facing a raging storm or Davidson on her camel, worrying about the heat, and I reminded myself that they persevered. They made it. And they were utterly changed as a result.
Allowing the Present Moment
As my trip unfolded, I realized how much it was changing me. I set the intention to allow the twists and turns and go with them. For the most part, I was successful. And it’s because I threw out my itinerary and went with the opportunities that arose that I had some of my biggest adventures.
Where in your life could you let go a little (or a lot) and live in the flow? Share with us in the comments.