There are just over two weeks until The Road To Compassion begins. When I look at the number of things that I need to do and measure them against the time remaining until departure... I'm not sure it all triangulates.  But as the bumper sticker I read yesterday proclaimed, "Magic Happens". 

I am experimenting with Guerrilla meditation, which basically involves sneaking in some meditation time here and there when my to-do lists aren't looking.  My fantasy is that on The Road To Compassion I will have more time for sitting in stillness... and for playing my guitar, and writing poetry, and there are lots of books I'd like to read, and I'm a nascent birder, and of course there is all kinds of hiking I want to do, and I'd like to blog more regularly...

Since my last blog post I have placed approximately a dozen of my van request flyers (see previous post for more on these wacky flyers) on various handsome and predominantly German camper vans. Admittedly, I have felt some embarrassment in asking  complete strangers to lend, trade, or give me their wonderful camper vans.  However, I believe big dreams are nudged along by bold (see quirky) steps.  Only one person has responded to the flyers, and that is probably out of respect for the friends that that person and I happen to have in common.  Despite this I remain optimistic.  Each day I spend time envisioning myself in a van with all the qualities I would like, and I connect as deeply as I can to the needs that will be met by this van: contribution, comfort, adventure, well being, ease, space, and peace.  I have even had a group of friends supporting me with some group visioning of the van with me in it.  My sister has offered to put van request flyers on camper vans she comes across, and my Mom has kept a keen lookout for camper vans for sale.  Bless her heart, she even called to ask about one and started bargaining on my behalf!  I am a thoroughly supported fella.  Kootenay Lake isn't deep enough to hold all the gratitude I feel. 

I have just confirmed my workshop date for the Haida Gwaii/Queen Charlotte Islands.  Oh yes indeed, I have more blessings then I can keep track of.  Some times a bulk Thank You is in order.  A workshop date in Prince George is on the cusp of confirmation and a few other communities are on the horizon. 

And!  I finally spoke with a producer at the CBC radio program All Points West.  After three previous attempts that had all resulted in messages left on voice mail, I came up with the clever strategy of calling well before the broadcasting of the show, as opposed to during the show.  We had an encouraging conversation and he told me he would consider getting me on the show closer to my departure date. 

Outdoor Memories

There are two main reasons that I am inspired about my Road To Compassion trip.  One inspiration comes from the opportunity to visit BC communities and meet people through sharing my passion for Compassionate Communication.   The other is the opportunity to explore more of the outdoors.  I love the outdoors. My hope is to find time to write about past experiences I've had in the outdoors, especially the ones from my time up north, and include them with my blog posts.  Writing about my outdoor experiences will keep me fueled to do all the indoor plannning work for the Road To Compassion.  And I hope these pieces about the outdoors will also bring my Road To Compassion trip more alive for others as well.  The following is from the very recent past.

My Backyard

A few days ago, after a full day on the computer, I slipped out the back door and hiked up the backyard.  We are staying in the Slocan Valley and our backyard is a mountain, which makes for very convenient outdoor guerrilla exercise.  Nothing cures computer-head like pumping my lungs full of fresh mountain air and giving my heart rate a kick in the pants.  When I got to the view point I closed my eyes and took it all in.  Once my mind settled down I savoured the sound of birds and breeze.  Hello Breath.  Then I heard some rustling in the grass.  Thinking it was probably a deer, I considered keeping my eyes closed.  However, something in me questioned the likeliness of deer rustling that loudly, and so I opened my eyes and discovered a small black bear not fifty feet downhill from where I sat.  Busy with his foraging and upwind from me, the bear was oblivious as to my existence and so I watched him for a few moments.  I didn't want him to get too close before discovering me, so I cleared my throat as if about to begin speaking.  The bear looked over at me, hesitated for the briefest of moments, and ran off.  I sat there soaking  in the wonders of my backyard and imagined all the wonders to come this summer.

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