Thank you, Katrina

Hi Reader.

You may have noticed I’ve been in a writing desert for a couple of weeks now. I would say it’s been a quiet time in terms of productivity, in general. I have palpably felt the lack of desire to write or to create. At times I blamed it on the humidity—heat doesn’t bother me, but heavy heat seems to clog the pores of my ideas.

Also, I was preparing for an event that, as it drew closer, was scaring the bejesus out of me. I woke up in the middle of the night many times, worried that it would be a disaster.

In truth, I was both terrified and really excited about the event.

Back in February I pitched an idea to the director of an incredible place called Wiawaka. Five months ago it seemed brilliant, but the closer the date got, the more I wondered what the hell I had done.

Wiawaka is an extraordinary place, created by two women, Mary Fuller and Katrina Trask, on Lake George, in the late 1800s, so women working in factories in the area could vacation there, with their children.

It was then, and still is, a place of respite for women. On one of the most beautiful lakes in the country.

I have been a fangirl of Katrina Trask since as far back as I can remember, having grown up near the place where she lived in Saratoga: Yaddo, which became, after her death, an artists’ colony.

I’m not important enough to earn a stay at Yaddo, and I kind of live in a place where life is like a permanent retreat anyway, so becoming a part of that community has never been an option for me, even though I have spent many hours walking the grounds there (open to the public) and staring in wonder at the mansion in the distance, wondering who was creating what inside the foreboding walls.

Anyhoo, Katrina.

I thought it would be cool to give a lecture about Katrina, who lost all four of her kids to illness, whose husband died in a train wreck, whose house and summer house burned to the ground, and who had the love of two great men, Spencer and George, who were lifelong friends.

The story is GREAT. It is ripe with gripping details of love and loss. AND Katrina, who came from wealth and married wealth, was a prolific writer, a thrower of fabulous parties, and a creator of amazing organizations that gave power to women. She accomplished all of this, mostly while suffering from debilitating illness herself, and while wearing, no doubt, really uncomfortable clothing. It was, after all the 1800s.

She was a maverick with a heart of gold. I adore her and decided I should try to channel her. Publicly. Which I have never done. I’m not that kind of medium.

I repeat: Never done before. Publicly.

But something nudged idiot me back in February and universal forces were in compliance and so on Wednesday night I rocketed into a space way out of my comfort zone and did this thing.

I believe it was a tremendous success. Katrina came through. I found the courage to let go and let her speak. I felt confident in delivering the ‘lecture’ part of the presentation. The audience was gentle and curious. They had great questions. Together we had a lot of fun.

Afterwards a powerful storm rolled in. The wind picked up. Thunder and lightening and torrential rain. The area where I was on Lake George lost power until the next morning.

Which was precisely what happened ten years ago this summer when I stepped waayy out of my comfort zone to try my hand at leading a church service, in Landgrove, Vermont.

I had, it seemed, no business doing that, either, back then. I had zero experience standing in front of a church. But something mysterious in me compelled me to do it anyway.

Here is what I think:

The Universe taps us when the time is right for us to do something new, different.

It’s up to us to say yes.

If we don’t say yes, someone else will.

The idea will move on until it finds a willing participant.

Our task is to gather the courage to step up to the new, most likely unfamiliar, thing.

Wednesday night could have been a colossal failure, and I knew that going into it. I know that being scared or skeptical blocks the flow of energy from Spirit. It’s very difficult to channel when your mind keeps telling you you’re a phoney.

So I did my best to remain open and I allowed myself to be led and I gave over when the time arrived for Katrina to speak and I knew I would probably look like a fool (I get very emotional) and maybe some would think me a fraud, but I trusted in Larger Forces anyway.

Larger Forces have never let me down.

I understand that the thing does not have to be polished or complete, that the joy of life is in the process, the unveiling of the idea. I understand that what Infinity wants for us is so much bigger than anything our small minds could ever plan or conceive.

I knew that the thing I hoped would happen on Wednesday might not happen.
But I also knew that something would happen.
That’s the adventure: the something.

That’s what we have to make space for in life.

Life is not about us controlling the narrative. Life is about us creating the conditions for Something to snuggle up with us.

We are supposed to create the conditions, set the stage, prepare: be healthy, get some exercise and eat some vegetables. Get some rest, say some prayers of gratitude. Show up. Show up with curiosity. Trust, believe, believe, believe.

I don’t understand why we expect eighteen-year-olds to know what they want to do with their lives. It’s so unfair. Why isn’t I want to learn or I want to be amazed or I want to develop my curiosity enough?

We are each a beautiful tuning fork and the Universe is waiting for us to align our vibration to harmonize with Infinity. That’s when and where life hums, where the magic happens, where creation is born.

I know now that all the quiet of the past few weeks was the thing fermenting. I know I needed a certain amount of courageous energy to show up for this new idea. I understand that the times that feel like droughts are actually full of action, when things are humming quietly, in preparation.

A whole new idea cracked open for me the other night. I know now that my own ideas about what I can and can’t do are limited only by my fears. I know there are enough gentle souls out there who, when bearing witness to our jump into the unknown, will cheer us on, no matter how it goes. I know for certain there are unseen forces wishing for our courageous actions all the time. Life is brimming with distractions. I think our greatest challenges are actually to turn away from the nothingness of our phones and computers and televisions and toward the Everything of creation and creativity.

We are here to harmonize with Infinity to create what our very soul needs. And in the process we find that the world needs what we have to give, too.

xomo

Thank you, Katrina. I adore you.