The Right and Perfect Place

Inner prompts become like kettle drums banging away when urging you to pay attention. I had been listening to those drums increase their volume for quite some time and finally started planting seeds in my husband’s mind that we had to move. The negatives outweighed the positives where we were living and I knew it was a matter of time before we would lose the physical energy it would take to move two households.

Almost every year we ventured north to our favorite haunt on the Hoods Canal and decided to spread our wings from there and see what adjacent areas offered. Ironically, my BFF in Grants Pass had a daughter who lived in Kingston and suggested taking a look there as she thought we might like it.

We decided to find a hotel in Bremerton as it seemed central to the areas we wanted to investigate. There was literally no room at the inn – anywhere – as a covention had taken over the town, but the hotel staff was able to secure a room in Poulsbo, just 20 minutes up the road. Off we went to our destiny.

Pulling off Hwy. 3 onto 305 was magical. Quaint little village houses dotted the bay that curved around the city and the whole feeling of the town. As we drove to our motel we felt like Goldilocks – everything was “just right.” After we settled in, we went to dinner on the waterfont where the marina is and fell in love even more with Poulsbo; it was the right size, population and climate and was what we had searched for most of our married life – the right and perfect place. We noticed there was a Windermere Real Estate office adjacent to the motel and planned to stop in the next morning.

The rest of the story is history, as they say. We have been residents for two years in this magnificent area and have loved every minute ot it. The physical transition/logistics of selling two houses, moving to another state, setting up a whole new household was the hard part. When we walked into our new home that had a sweeping view of east Puget Sound, the Space Needle and Mt. Rainier, we knew it was where we wanted to be.

All transpired in due course and we feel as if the last two years have been the best years of our lives. That time has been an amazing journey of treasured connections and valuable relationships that defy synchronicity and timing. For expample, I am sitting here writing with Charla who lived a couple of blocks from me in L.A. in the 1940s – we attended Woodcrest Elementary School and had the same teachers – I was a year older, but I ask you, what are the odds? That connection would not have happened without my nail technician introducing me to one of her clients who was a part of Charla’s writing group and was kind enough to introduce me and the three writers accepted me as part of their group. That is one of a plethora of synchronicities that defines the magic we have experienced in our new home. Everything flows, the kettle drums have stopped and I look forward to filling in more of the blanks as to why Poulsbo is our right and perfect place.





Lost Time

“Time has been transformed, and we have changed; it has advanced and set us in motion; it has unveiled its face, inspiring us with bewilderment and exhilaration.”                     ~ Kahlil Gibran

The ocean is a healing place for me. It has always consoled and rejuvinated my spirits. When I first arrived in Oregon, one of my favorite places at the coast was a little colony of vintage cabins with fireplaces and coziness. I always tried to book my favorite bungalow and went there often to write, do art and do spiritual work – in essence to create a mini retreat. My parrot and little terrier mix dog, Chimera, always accompanied me.

This place became especially important during a difficult period in my life. I had so much to contemplate about the future and needed to sort out painful and confused feelings.

It was late October and I took off to the coast planning to stay for several days. With journals, knitting, sketch books and critters all packed, I enjoyed the beautiful Fall foliage and crisp air on the drive down. My demons were at bay temporarily.

Once I settled into the familiar cottage #4 and lit the smoky fireplace, I started to relax and absorb the ambiance. I fell deep into my writing, reflecting on my dreams and goals and what life might look like going it alone. I wrote long newsy letters to friends, recorded vociferous dreams and collected agates on the storm-worn beaches. At night I knit shawls for Christmas presents.

The walkway to the beach from the cabin was a magical experience. It was a tangle of vines that formed a tightly woven tunnel through which you descended and were deposited on the other side – right on the sand. I always imagined I was being transformed as I traveled through it.

The day before I left, it looked like some weather might be moving in, so I decided to take my dog for a last romp on the beach. It was about 1:00 and the days were short and the light was changing. We went through the covered archway and walked for a while on the shore – Chimera snapping at the waves as they rushed in. I found a large log that had washed up and sat down to rest with the dog beside me on her leash. I was mesmerized by the beautiful sky – the clouds were turning silver and dark gray and I found myself gazing at them in concert with the rhymic ocean and felt an amazing peace settle in.

I became aware that I was cold and noticed my dog had laid down beside me, still on her leash. I checked my watch and it was 4:30! It felt like no more than a few minutes had passed since I sat down; a surreal trick of consciousness to have lost that time which was confusing and a little scary.

After returning to the cabin, I recorded my experience as it was unlike anything else I had experienced. Within a month, doors opened and my life dramatically changed at every level. I was divorced, moved to another city, got a job and started life anew. And whatever transpired during that lost time, moved me to another place – aligned me with the universe in a way that turned my life in a totally different direction.

* * * * *

And, I still have the agates I collected from that visit and a shawl I knit for my friend while there. She died about three years ago and her daughter found it among her mom’s things and sent it to me as I’d sewn my label onto it. They are reminders of another dimension in time.