Headlights in the Ash
The stories I am sharing in my blogs are based on the Hero’s Journey and my goal is to teach you to begin to look at your stories through this lens. This will be the entry point to your healing and igniting change in your life.
Listen to the nudges and yearnings.
Share and inquire; get curious and recognize your mentors.
Participate in your life. Do something different; move forward with courage and bravery.
Re-language your experience. Re-focus, something new is happening. Trust.
Mature. There is a new insight; you have transformed a piece of your life.
Like you, I have had my share of struggles and did not know the direction my life would take me. Forty-years ago, Life Coaching didn’t exist so my teachers appeared in other ways and in many forms. In Babies, Bells and Rattlesnakes the volcano becomes one of my greatest teachers.
* * * * *
In the late ’70s my husband, two babies and I are lived on a piece of property in the middle of nowhere. It was so remote we had to travel on a 10-mile gravel road and across two big wheat fields to get to our 10-acre parcel. Our family vehicle was a two ton purple Chevy flatbed truck. We called her Purp. Purp was our tool and transportation; our lifeline to civilization and survival. Our land was an undeveloped semi-desert piece of property with no water or power and lots of rattlesnakes. We had a big dream to become homesteaders – modern day pioneers.
My husband wanted to become a prosperous marijuana farmer, build a house, dig a well and live the dream. He was my soulmate. What he wanted I wanted (right?). I was living in the moment, full of passion and excited about the endless possibilities in front of us. A rational person might have told me the idea was insane, but we were adventurous free spirits.
We moved from the Oregon Coast, our roots of familiarity, to this semi-desert land. We brought what we imagined we would need to set up an outdoor living space; tents, coolers, buckets, cooking gear, a cupboard and even a great hammock which the kids used as a toy for swinging and napping. We made a few roundtrips back to the Coast each time returning with a load of gear, lumber, used windows, hammers and handsaws.
I was concerned about my one and three year old babies wandering around in rattlesnake country, so I put a set of bells on their high-topped tuffy baby boots. They were very active boys and when they walked around, the snakes heard them coming. We killed seven or more rattlers while on this land.
To imagine how much trust and faith I had during this time is astounding to me now because my childhood was the complete opposite of this lifestyle. While my brother and sister were off to college, I was a wannabe homesteader with babies, bells, rattlesnakes and no water or power.
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