At Chéticamp Beach; Stepping Barefoot into Ocean Waters
Stilling my mind, I step barefoot into the ocean waters of my Acadian ancestors.* At Chéticamp beach in Nova Scotia, these grey waters of the Atlantic are the watery link connecting North America to Western Europe, where all my ancestors originated. Standing in these waters, I look outward where the channel widens to the broader ocean. My ancestors looked upon this same scene before me now. Does this place hold the memory of them, an imprint still present in some way? Does this generation of fish and oyster, animal and tree embody the rhythms of that past? I close my eyes, honoring this moment, this place, and the expansiveness of time and space. I offer myself. I invite something too, something I don’t entirely understand, which resides within my focused presence—something I am learning to trust more and more.
My eyes open and a bald eagle flies low over the waters about eight feet before me. “Oh, hello, magnificent fellow!,” I say. A kind of recognition, a communion, an answering stirs the air. I glance 20 feet behind me to see if my husband sees the eagle, and a Raven flies low on my other side, flying a parallel course with the eagle. She, flies as if in support, a wingmate to the eagle. They carry messages whose impact I feel. With gratitude, I honor Raven’s presence too, as I watch both mighty birds continue their line of flight. Once again, I am struck by the numinous intersections with nature, the invitation to listen deeply, the journeys of embodied connection, and shifting modes of thinking.
As someone of European ancestry I humbly believe communion with nature is a part of our own indigenous heritage, a human heritage that can live in right relationship with planet Earth. (I say this also recognizing that my European heritage also proselytized the notion of humankind’s separation from nature, and performed horrific violence on the indigenous peoples of North America, their cultures, and the Earth itself). Even though the European indigenous pathways may have lain dormant for thousands of years, it is part of our own lineage, and resides within our DNA. It requires only that we invite it. It requires only that we cultivate a willingness to listen. This interest, perhaps within the larger story of multigenerational healing (I am a former therapist after all!), is part of the reason why my husband and I bought an apartment in Southern France. And so I begin to explore the myths, symbols, and history within the landscapes of my ancestors.
But it is also true, as I walk the landscape where I live most of the time, in Nye, Montana—honoring it as the original homelands of the Absalookee (The Crow) people—this landscape also helps coax me into the spacious, still place within. It calls me into the present moment. It reminds me to listen and exercise the subtle faculties of communion. No matter where I am on this planet, I am in love walking with my relations (the ancestors, flora, fauna, spirit, the land, and my internal compass). Living in this way I endeavor to live in alignment with my deepest human sense of congruity with my planet, Mother Earth, and all who call her home.
Like the waves at Chéticamp beach that rise, fall upon the shore, and return to sea, I can make a journey back to the shores of my indigenous, deep intuitive self. I can return wiser to the vast ocean, and travel to new places that my ancestors never could have imagined, even as they helped open the way. I am grateful for the waters—the sacred gestational waters—that assist in birthing myself anew. I can feel the power of that relatedness even as I write now within our Montana home nestled among the mountains.
We are curious about your thoughts, dear reader. Where do you find intersections of meaning? of soul? Where do you feel connected with the numinous? Tell us about your relationship with Nature?
* My French Acadian ancestors arrived in Nova Scotia (territory that the Mi’kmaq called Mi’kma’ki and the French called Acadie) in the early 1600s. Acadians were the first Europeans to arrive and settle on this land (in 1604-1607), and apparently until many years after British rule was established, they lived more integrated lives, shared language, and intermarried with the indigenous Metis and Mi’kmaq peoples of the land.