What if?

Ever had one of those thoughts that you just kinda went…”Nah? Where did that come from?
You know, the ones that sneak out somehow through all those internal chatterbox, gear grinding, regurgative thoughts that sadly we mostly are not even aware that we run as an endless loop tape? Yeah those very cool thoughts. This one that I feel compelled to share tonight came a few years ago, whilst pondering life changes and feeling a certain degree of well, frankly…UTTER CHAOS! Somehow seems apropo for the times….

I suppose I feel the urge to share because we so often forget this simple truth and its inherent freedom and responsibility. 
But interestingly enough, our animals just know this to be true. They don’t stand around in their little herds pondering how to be a snazzier trotter then everyone else. Nor do they harbor small, nasty thoughts about the way so-and-so’s mane is always SUCH a mess! (ok…ok.Maybe I have heard Cita mention IV’s mane to ‘Spady a time or two) 
Nor do they belittle themselves when they missed that lead change. Or secretly wished they were a different color. Agonize over their past. Wish they were taller, slimmer….
 Nope, they simply Live in the Now…where we all do, but us ‘Egocentric’ humans well, we forget, beat ourselves up, compare ourselves favorably or unfavorably to others, second guess ourselves and just generally stop believing in our dreams. Why is that???? 
Oh to be more humble and learn from the Masters…..

What If?
   I am so Magnificent,
So Huge, So Powerful,
So Gentle, So Wise.
So Purely Divine?
What If?
What Then………?

The Un-covering….

”It’s impossible” said pride. “It’s risky” said experience. “It’s pointless” said reason. “Give it a try” whispered the heart – Anonymous
On the eve of the Winter Solstice, when its said that the Apocalypse will occur, my musings are certainly of a reflective nature. It’s infinity fascinating that the word Apocalypse is  Ancient Greek for “the un-covering”. I would have to say that has been a theme in my world of late, digging down into my beliefs and patterns, examining my dreams, longings and  aspirations. Those of you that know me, know that for as long as I can remember I have had two Big loves in life, Horses and Art. These two things have filled with both immeasurable Joy and Challenge. I am sifting through big ole belief systems around the fact that neither of them can earn you money and if you do, you will end up hating them. Its kinda cool that I look at that belief  with eyes of ‘now’ and see the fallacy in them,but deep childhood ingrained unconscious beliefs can die a painfully slow death.
 I feel an incredible gratitude for being able to have not only survived, but thrived off daring to believe that I can have a rich and abundant career from my love of of horses and granted I feel I will never tire, nor ease to desire to grow and learn and still find every moment spent with these creatures mind-blowing and humbling, I have (much to my surprise often times)managed to accomplish a solid toe-hold on a Grand Life Lived with Horses. 
There is this Other Piece.
My Art. And yep, I know horses are Art. Absolutely. And I have no intention whatsoever to stop that aspect of my souls work………….but….
My Art has laid dormant for years. Well, ok. Its actually gone on some great long train and unicycle journey somewhere far more interesting then hanging out. Looking at it now, Gee, must have been about…’98 was the last real time I created anything along these lines. Yeah. Been awhile.Every year its been the same; something like ” I’ll have all this time in the winter and I’ll do art then” and, oh it just never happens. I have become aware that I am the master of keeping Busy, with a capital B…and this huge denied piece of me goes nu-nurtured. I made a solemn vow this fall that I WOULD sculpt this winter and even enlisted the aid of a Life Coach to keep me accountable. Drastic? Yep, had to be. Horses and Art are who I am and they truly are one and the same in my reality.
Why am I sharing this? Because it scares the ever lovin’ poop outa me to go Public with this. Its a big step, but its where I am going in the future and to be honest? I am so excited! I am learning to surrender and to embrace all that I am and daring to  allow myself to go for the Big Dream.  Lodestar’s meaning is after all…”guiding light, inspiration”. I would be remiss if I was constantly encouraging people to “Live Your Dreams!” and I shirked my own.
So, here is my first clay for bronze sculpture. My inner critic sees all sorts of things wrong with it here, but….I know and see how he will look finished and I have been so so so amazed and immersed in the process……………what a rush! My one only real compliant is IT TO SMALL!!!! Far to hard to get in there with my sticky lil fingers and do what I want, but….patience and learning. The next one will be substantially bigger…yet this one…..this one is special beyond everything. 
                                                                                                He is the my First Born after a very long and trauma and drama ridden pregnancy and as such, deserves much tolerance and my utmost respect.

Begin Again

Well, it been quite some time, hasn’t it?

If I could count the number of times I’ve signed into my Blog….….…....and then left it.

Only just toda
y do i understand why. Writing this first entry after my Mom’s story has proven to be one of the most difficult and challenging transitions of my life. It’s like finally admitting that life does indeed go on….

Oh, and Life has been so unceasingly busy this year. Go Figure. That I have perhaps orchestrated it that way is not lost on me. With no time to pause and reflect, to sit with the pain and emptiness that comes on Sunday mornings when I call her to share… hand frozen on the phone as I remember. When I have to make trips back to the Island on that ferry and the pain crawls in close then as I usually miss a boat and am left with no choice but to sit quietly for 2 hrs surrounded with decades of memories. As randomly as grocery shopping…Chocolate….Lilacs…The screwy hour hand on the clock in my kitchen……my mohair hand knitted mittens.


I have been for the most part able to carry on as if she may soon be coming back….But like her dear Soul Dog, Toby, I have finally begun to get that she is just not coming back.


I had a visit with him last time on the Island, and he was just done waiting and so, off he went off to find her. Another piece of her goes as well for us, and yet, life goes on…

Don’t get me wrong….I love life and understand its ebb and flow and rhythms that color it and shape it
and mold it to be always perfect, balanced and natural intellectually and spiritually. But Emotionally?

It hurts like hell and I miss my mom so much it staggers me sometimes.

I will heal. I will allow the pain to come in and pass thru. I will be still enough to feel. I know that she has never left me. I see her in every Red Tailed Hawk that flies so often in my path whenever I am unsure or question…..

This grieving process is a first timer for me and my compassion for those who have lost one so close knows no bounds now…I get it. Hiding in buckets of work is what we Travers’s like to do, and feeling the bad stuff sucks, but better out then in. So I learn a new ability. I feel the tender raw new sensations and the dirty, gritty, rotten old ones as well. The sweet taste of memories running down my face, the empty ache inside that I simply just need to allow myself to surrender to. Odd I suppose that it has taken so long for me to really feel this, but then again, I guess not. I am the past master at not feeling, and well well well…don’t old habits die hard when the chips are down.

The most beautiful thing about all this though? The only thing I need to do is also the hardest thing to do. Feel and feel and feel and feel and feel and then…

Let Go…

and begin again.

One Last Time.


Ever since I was elected to write your obituary, I have squirmed under that name. It just makes me cry….

And I just cannot plunk your life in some stereotypical, generic box, some glanced over section in back of the local paper. From the moment you were born on October 12, 1935 to the day you left us on Feb. 22, 2011, you were anything and everything BUT!

One of my favorite things ever was writing you notes that would bring a smile and a lift to the heart…so that is what I am going to do one last time….

You were born to Hans and Elisabeth Wolf in Kassel, Germany on Sat, the 12th of October, 1935. Along with an older brother, Uwe Jens (now living in Alamo, Texas), the family of four survived WW2 in Germany, and immigrated in 1955. What you experienced in those dramatic years growing up, you only shared tiny amounts with us, enduring circumstances we could never imagine. It was the pressure and flame that tempered you into such a strong being, and yet you maintained that indefinable Grace and gentleness…

I remember being told that you had an apprenticeship on a big Oldenburg Stud Farm, and so did not want to move to Canada…we sure are glad you did, though! Raymond, Alberta sugar beet farm was where it all began here, then on to Vancouver and finally Victoria. Working in the Royal Bank as a Teller left you little escape from a devil-may-care deep sea tug sailor by the name of Richard Travers bound and determined to make you his wife. And so he did. On Aug. 16, 1965 you were married, and had us three kids. Chris first, followed quickly by me, Stefanie, and then Colin, every bit as determined as his father, came along as well. The next couple of decades were full! With Pop building houses as fast as you could decorate and landscape them in the South Island and your wish for your own farm finally coming true. With one of the few Commercial Goat Diaries in B.C., you gave us all so much. Some of the fondest memories and deepest friendships have come from your dedication to your dream. Avid supporter of 4-H, exhibitions and fairs (even if you did worry a bit too much sometimes:), raising us kids to have a deep abiding respect for the country life, morals and love of animals. To Chris you gave your crazy work ethic and deep well of care and devotion. To Colin, your dignity, determination and independence helped shape his life.To me, well, sometimes to your dismay, I took your love of animals to the next level, and certainly did with the horses. Your support, patience and interest allowed me to fully realize my hearts desire. Teaching me to never sell out, never give up my soul. Words will never be enough to Thank You for this very, very special link and gift we share….

Chris, together with Vicki, were the ones who brought you your two wonderful Grandchildren, Christie and Todd; the family still close by in the Cowichan Valley

With your opera’s playing in the barn, hanging baskets galore, those long skirts you adored, your grace, elegance and class that all who knew you admired. Iron lady when you needed to be, sensitive and deeply caring for her family and friends. Watching the farm, your incredible flowers and yard bring you such peace and joy right up to the end was such a thrill.

Sitting on the back deck with coffee and you in the early mornings, the scent of all those spring flowers and our easy conversations is one of my most treasured memories…Fresia’s your favorite flower, coffee black with a dab of sugar, your Value Village excursions with Shirley and the dogs, Vivaldi and Giselle, Christmas rolladen….and how am I ever to make your special French Toast?. Our shared love for potato pancakes, you cursing the smell in the house for hours after…:) Oh but they were soooooo good.

Watching how Chris and Shirley’s tender care gave us all so much more time, at home where we all wanted you. Even at the very end, mom, you had us all gathered together, our family…..what a gift.

Now, we all know you wanted no ceremony, but we just can’t help having a gathering, at home at 1770 Koksilah Rd., on the Saturday, the 26th of March.…It’ll be spring then, and some time will have passed, so we can maybe smile again and remember the joy with a little less of the ache of losing you. Nothing fancy, I promise, but you touched so many lives we would love to share.

I love you so much, Mom….for Everything….Thank You.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave bereft
I am not there. I have not left. ~ Mary Frye

I have been overwhelmed with all your gentle words shoulders- to- lean on and support for myself and my family over the last few months, weeks and especially days……a Million Thank Yous and Hugs….:) I couldn’t have done it without you…