Day 2: Broughton Archipelago Adventure

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Roger’s Beach, Swanson Island

Early afternoon

We’ve had a sunny morning. When we left Hanson Island, the weather was breezy and cool, but on this side of the water it’s hot and calm. Julian is setting up the outdoor shower(!), as we have running water from the landowner’s well. The rest of us are basking in the sun, the boys exploring the rocks for tiny crabs

All last night, we could hear humpbacks blowing and breaching. Amazing. I wondered whether it was a sea lion on our beach, and about getting up and going down to look, but thought I would have either seen nothing in the dark, or that if a sea lion were there I would have disturbed it, and it might even have been territorial. So I lay in my sleeping bag listening, and  learned from Julian this morning about my mistaken sound identification.

What a guilty pleasure it is to paddle to shore and find a base camp hidden in the trees, tents and sleeping pads set up and waiting, and to have Julian prepare and clean up after all our meals. At sunset last night, he walked out onto the beach carrying a tray of brownies, each one on its own leaf, with a candle glowing in the middle, and brought them around to us. I teased him this morning that it was right out of a women’s fantasy novel — a handsome young Maltese man serving chocolate on the beach to three 40 to 50ish year-old women.

We’ve spent the whole morning watching humpbacks and orcas blowing and breaching around us. One orca came up about 10 metres to my left as we were rafted together. I shrieked. Julian swore loudly, and then said he had goosebumps. Another breached, looking as if it were coming straight towards us, then rose again to our right. Since I’ve been writing on the beach, at least half a dozen have breached out in the water.

We’re already at our base camp for the night, and have unloaded our kayaks. Our boats will be lighter for our afternoon paddle. The boys are collecting specimens — crabs, and eel — in a tidal pool aquarium in the rocks. I’ve finally warmed up enough to strip off my long underwear. More whales are blowing, and a tail fin breached the water.

Early evening

All of us except Helen, who had heat exhaustion, went for a long paddle around some of the smaller islands this afternoon. I paddled Julian’s plastic Current Designs kayak, heavy with all the emergency gear. Julian and Josh shared a double. 

Josh has been the least enthusiastic kayaker,  complaining of being uncomfortable in the boat and taking frequent breaks when he was with his mom. I was surprised he volunteered to come with us this afternoon, and at how much he enjoyed it. He even kept paddling when Julian was taking a water break. I was really glad to see him having a better experience.

I was worn out by the time we returned. I had a (cold) shower — refreshing — and got into my warm evening clothes. We’re all sitting on the beach while Julian makes supper. I’m drinking mint tea, a mild headache, listening to the humpbacks in the distance.

Day 1: Broughton Archipelago Adventure

Monday, August 28, 2017

Squarenotch Cove, Hanson Island

Sunset

I arrived at Telegraph Cove campsite yesterday evening. Helen and Josh came out to meet me there after supper, and we walked to the beach, looking out at the water and islands where we would spend our next few days.

Today we saw:
- seals
- sea lions lying in the water, waving their fins
- eagles
- a pod of doll porpoises that swam around us
- humpback whales, their dorsal and tail fins breaching the water

We left Telegraph Cove this morning. Fog blanketed the water most of the day, even though we could often see blue sky. Through it, we could hear other sea lions and humpbacks in the distance. The sound of the humpbacks blowing is low and distinctive.

There are six of us on this trip. Julian, newly graduated from the Thompson Rivers University Adventure Studies program and in his mid-twenties, is our guide. Helen and I are here with her 14-year old son, Josh. Megan Klammer, a nurse who’s just moved to Victoria from Nelson, has also brought her 14-year old son, Lachlan.

It’s dusk now. There’s an orange band of sky behind the blue mountains across the water. Two humpbacks are crossing. I can hear them breach and blow, then see the two spouts of water rise in unison, the painted sunset colours behind them; and then again, as they continue their voyage, passing a point of land, disappearing behind it.

Copyright © 2017 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.

California Desert, January 2012

Dry, dead, desolate,
barren, brown mountains,
So unlike those lushly forested
blue beauties of my
home.

Rock after rock after rock.

A rubble pile,
the remnants of some
horrible explosion.
It must have been abandoned
after the tragedy,
the survivors heart broken,
too sick in their souls
to do the work of reclaiming it
one
more
time.

The ones too injured to
follow
grew spikes and needles,
fangs,
learned to spit poison,
suck just enough life from each to the other,
back and forth,
to get through
another
day.

At rare moments I see one
scurry like a shadow
on the side of the trail,
see the little holes they've
dug to shelter them
selves like graves
for the living.

The only softness in these hills,
repeated over and over again,
are mounds of sage brush,
velvety grey roses,
sprung from desert carcasses.
Such a bitter healer
that keeps us in this place.

Copyright © 2012 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.

Comfort Suite #307, San Francisco, January 31, 2012

"I know my mother loved me,"
you deadpan,
"because she beat me."

People tell me now
that I am
strong,
but I wasn't strong
enough to hold you.

"God never gives you more
than you can handle,"
they say. I smile
crookedly,
nod politely,
knowing they are wrong.

God gives us exactly
more than can be handled
once in each of our lives, and that
is what ends it.

But if God loves us
the way
your mother
loved
you, She breaks us,
and we get more
twice.

Copyright © 2012 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.

Year Three

Early in February, my mom told me her doctors had found a mass in one of her lungs. A biopsy confirmed it was cancer. Neither she, my dad or step dad are smokers, so you can imagine what a shock this was for everyone, my mom especially.

After many tests, she had surgery on May 20th and they removed most of her right lung. Six days later, she was home from the hospital, the stitches were out, and the treatment, other than some exercises to rebuild her lung capacity, seems to be over. She’s taking afternoon naps, not lifting heavy things, has gotten a housekeeper, and is otherwise back to her normal activities. The happiness and relief I feel about this makes every day seem sunnier and brighter.

Life has been a whirlwind since I got back to Vancouver on March 5. I quickly became submerged in finding and starting a new job (I’ve been with WorkSafeBC over two months now), re-engaging with the local organizational development community, and helping Cliff with home renovations.

When I first arrived, Cliff apologetically told me that he and his son Christopher were just about to refinish the living, dining, and hall ceiling, a section of which looked like it had been damaged for many years. I joked that he was trying to make me feel at home, as my siblings and I grew up in an enormous home renovation project. (When he heard about Cliff’s reno’s, my brother made exactly the same joke.) I even offered to help with the project, since I wasn’t working yet.

Of course, one thing led to another. While tackling the ceiling, Cliff realized the attic was poorly insulated, so we spent a couple days rectifying that. Then there was the wall of wood paneling in the living room — might was well replace that with drywall, and that meant repainting everything. And since we already had the furniture out of the way, Cliff was convinced to refinish the hardwood floors, too, although that meant clearing all the bedrooms, which also needed to be painted … and wouldn’t some crown moulding make it all look great?

What we thought was going to be a two-week project turned into three months. We were extremely fortunately to have Christopher and eventually Rick working on the project — both very skillful craftsmen. There were times when we were disheartened, frustrated, exhausted, even angry and scared; and also times when we were focused, playful, elated, and celebratory.

Happily, even through the nuttiness of living in a home in disruption and returning from work every evening and weekend for weeks to sand, prime, and paint — and on top of that, finding and learning a new job, adjusting to living in the same house as someone who I’d previously seen every couple of weeks or months, who was used to having his own space and time and privacy, and hosting many out-of-town guests — even through all of that disorder and change and uncertainty, Cliff and I grew closer and decided to extend our living arrangement indefinitely.

[Okay, okay, I have to eat some crow here. I know some of you — those to whom I protested many times that this was absolutely positively just a fling, just temporary, nothing serious, and finally, “I’m only going to stay there for a few weeks” — are thinking, “I told you so!” I humbly and happily acknowledge that you were much better predictors of how this was going to go than I have been.]

A couple weekends ago, two dear friends of mine from Ottawa, Laura and Annika, both happened to be in Vancouver, and I got to have short, delicious visits with them both. There was a party in Seattle that Saturday for the next class of LIOS graduates, so I was leaving right after lunch with Annika to celebrate their achievement and spend the night there. Saturday morning, the movers called to say that the truck with all my personal belongings had arrived from Ottawa. Could they deliver it all at 1:00? I changed plans with Annika so that she and I would be at the house when my stuff arrived. She and her friend Terri got there to find me in tears, being comforted by Cliff, upset over a transaction with the movers.

Annika and Terri’s company got me into a much better frame of mind, Cliff left to watch hockey, and I drove south to the Doubletree Inn, Tukwila, Washington. How wonderfully sweet to be with all the soon-to-be-graduates dressed to the nines and warmly welcoming me into their fold. I remembered them all from the first residential conference they attended, as uncertain as I had been on my first day about what to expect from this program, and here they were at the end of it, giddily gorged with the richness of their experiences.

Many alumni talk about the continued impact of the LIOS program the year after graduation. As I celebrated the many and impressive achievements of this amazing group of students, I realized everything in my life that was pulled apart two years ago had come back together, and that I was also celebrating the end of my “Year 3”.

After a nomadic sixteen months, I am resettled in the city where I started, emerging into a new life, work, and relationship. Mom is well again, I am connected with so many incredibly beautiful people, and every day I see more and more what an amazing person Cliff is. Walking home after work, I look around and realize that these are MY neighbours, this is where I LIVE, and that the dreams I had setting out two years ago have all come true.

Copyright © 2011 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.

What I Already Miss About Ottawa

(Written in the Ottawa Airport)

Family dinners
Hanging out with Aïsha, Zachary, Karen and Salah
Laura, Annika, Marla, Michel, Zainub and Naren, Jeca, Briana, Heather, Maggie and David, Maureen, Peter
Bank, Elgin, and Rideau/Somerset/Wellington/Richmond (the street with four names) — 80% of everything in Ottawa is located on these three streets


How quick and easy it is to get around the city (once I learned the maze)
Holding Willow, and experiencing her learning how to walk and talk
Running with Gillian, Nicole, Ray, Hammy, and JF
Skating on the Rideau Canal
All the great live music


Not having to ask for a key for the public washrooms
Gatineau Park - the place to hike, ski, snowshoe, camp, picnic, kayak, swim, etc. all within 10 to 40 minutes of downtown
Domus Café, which I faithfully visit once every time I’m in Ottawa
Date squares at Bridgehead


Going to popular places without having any line-ups or crowds or waiting an hour to get in

The handy household compost bins provided by the city
Snow (but not the ice or slush)


Cheek kisses, which I was just learning how to do
Walks, teas, and outings with Peppy. Definitely what I miss the very most.









Copyright © 2011 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.

Black Diamond Run

The adventures have continued to accumulate since my last blog. Last week, after skiing a run two or three times successfully (i.e. no falls) in -20°C, I checked the sign and realized that I had just skied my first black diamond run EVER. Okay, it was in tiny Camp Fortune and was probably equivalent to a very short intermediate run on any of the big mountains, but I was thrilled. After only two outings, I'm already a big girl skier!

On the opposite end of the weather spectrum, January 22 I experienced a fifty degree temperature change in one day as I went from -24°C in Ottawa to +26°C in Cancun. This was my second trip to Mexico in my lifetime, and also this winter. Sheer decadence.

You might also notice that there's a man with me in the photo, a very nice man named Cliff. I've been trying to shake him off for half a year now. I thought moving 4,611 kilometres away would do that, but despite the distance and a pretty wild emotional ride and even getting bucked off a couple of times, he hung in there like a rodeo rider, or a very, very good friend. I was finding it rather difficult to let go of him, too.

Cliff is active and outdoorsy, adventurous, playful, very intelligent, supportive, funny, plays guitar and sings, gives great massages, plays hockey, is sexy as all get out… and thank goodness, just like me, he has some weak points, so we get to be vulnerable and messy together. Through our interactions, I've been getting to see both his fears and my fears. I'm very glad that we've been taking things so slowly. The distance has provided time to reflect, settle in, opportunities to shift old patterns; time to learn about who he is (so much more than what I could have anticipated), and to see myself differently. It's been a gift.

Before I continue, I want to acknowledge that a number of people close to me, including everyone in my immediate family, are dealing with big issues and transitions right now. It really puts my stuff in perspective, and I have a huge amount of respect for how each of them are dealing with their situations. They are all role models in their own way.

Which leads to the next adventure: By the end of March, I will be back on the west coast! Unfortunately, this move isn't being precipitated just by warm, mushy, happy feelings (although those are present). In fact, it's been more immediately driven by the fact that I got fired.

I'm trying to to treat getting fired as factually as "I have a plumbing problem in my bathroom." Either I fix the problem myself and ask people to let me know if they see a leak again; or I know generally what needs to be done and and that I need help to deal with it; or it's a bigger problem than I can deal with by myself and I call a plumber. Seeing it that impersonally is helping me diminish the shame, see other options, and deal with the situation more effectively. In this case, I'm taking the middle option -- taking action and asking for help. I've been working this week on re-evaluating my values, revisioning my future, redefining my objectives, beginning to research options, and to search for work. I've been asking people on the west coast for informational and networking interviews, and will continue to reach out for referrals and references. (Thank you very much to everyone who has responded to date!) My coach was generous enough to make time for an extra session, and I'm very grateful to have her support through this next transition. (Thank you, Jeanne!) I'm open to other help and suggestions, too, if any of you have them to offer!

I wasn't the only player in the conflux of events that led to the termination of my contract, but as I have no control over the other elements I'll limit my reflections to my contributions. As far as I can see, there were basically two.

1. Although I wanted very much to do great work and leave the project in a good place when I departed, in my heart-of-hearts I did not want to be here in Ottawa for the full length of the contract. I had competing commitments. There were times when I'm sure the heart-of-hearts end of the spectrum was perceptible to my boss.
2. Those competing commitments generated guilt and anxiety, and as a result there were a couple instances when I was unskillful in my interactions. Anxiousness to prove myself, which is really the old fear that I won't be good enough, can cause me to come across stronger than I intend. It also keeps me pushing forward instead of stepping back and reflecting on the bigger picture. Although I did some very good work for the organization, because I got hijacked by guilt and anxiety I made mistakes, too.

I have a strong tendency to try to hide my weak points. Paradoxically, it's more often when I'm up front about them that I gain people's trust and respect, and feel more respect for myself (after I get over the initial shame and terror). I'm really hoping that's true here. The fact is that other people probably already see my weaknesses, and in trying to hide them I'm like an ostrich with my head in the sand -- and my butt waggling in the air, as my good friend Katie pointed out when I read this to her.

My biggest learning, not just through this event but in the past few months, has been about the competing commitments between what I know in my heart-of-hearts and what I think I SHOULD do / think / feel. I've seen how much I've second guessed myself, tried to rationalize myself into feeling differently, and looked for others' approval of my choices, until finally during one coaching session I saw it. What the hell? This is MY life! And I'm an adult -- I get to CHOOSE. It's up to me where and how I want to live, and I don't have to feel guilty about making that decision. (Thank you, Raf!)

I've had wonderful adventures here, met dear new friends, and gotten to know a great city. The time with my sister, brother-in-law, nephew and niece has been absolutely invaluable -- it makes the whole adventure worthwhile. What I've learned in being here is where my heart is. I know that the move back will be a transition in itself, that there will be tough days and that I will miss family and friends who are here. And I also know that I am fully committed to being on the west coast, working on the west coast, having new adventures, and continuing to approach life as a grand experiment. As Billy Jean King said, "Be bold. If you're going to make an error, make a doozy and don't be afraid to hit the ball."

Copyright © 2011 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.