5. Finding The Source Of Joy

Jackie's work is continuing, in her garden and her forest below. But, forest fires burning all around are creating a lot of anxiety. She has to wear her mask to go outside so she is not getting sick.

With the support of meditation, Jackie makes peace with her brother, learns to let go, and receives messages from her mother. While surfing social media, she discovers a Bhangra dancer and his mission: to spread joy, hope, and positivity all around. Those steps bring back a smile on her face. The loggers are getting close to the Source. She feels angry and sad... so the Sanctuary she is building with her partner is getting essential.

Trigger Warning: This practice may include references to death, dying, and the departed.

Music by Rahul Popawala, North Indian Alleys.

Transcript

Yoni,

My Sacred Space,

Chapter 5 Disclaimer.

This is a survivor's diary.

Her experience is unique and personal.

In sharing it,

She reveals the path she took to open up to life after a succession of deep traumas.

It's not a recipe to be applied,

But rather the chronicle of her gradual awakening.

Dear listeners,

What the narrator says may affect sensitive people.

If you are experiencing difficult emotions,

Please seek the help you need without any delay.

Yannick Videnheuve,

Author and narrator.

July 18,

2021.

Sowing Intentions.

Sowing Peace,

Acceptance,

Nonviolence,

Respect for Self and Others.

Watering,

Caring,

Paying Attention,

Practicing Kindness,

Having the Gentle Gaze of a Mother.

Directing My Thoughts.

I embody water,

Soft,

Pure,

Shiny,

Dark,

Deep,

And sometimes dangerous and destructive.

Since I've been drinking nothing but the water from there,

I feel my cells getting cleaner.

I eat the fruits of my efforts.

Inside,

My doll notices that she's safe,

That she can be beautiful and small,

But so strong at the same time.

Taking Action.

I continue my descent into the hourglass.

I know there will be a point of passage,

A bottleneck where only the necessary can pass into the other container.

I continue to garden and build the sanctuary,

A land of welcome and rest for all living things.

I live in a sacred forest,

And I want to protect it.

July 28,

2021.

Quiet at home,

I'm learning to let go.

Willie goes out on his own.

He goes away,

But always comes back.

He's a really good cat.

July is already drawing to a close.

We're in the heart of summer.

Lately,

We've been fishing in abundance,

So much that we have a stockpile of fish for this winter.

Phil and I learn and heal as we each take on our roles,

Trying to respect each other's space by meeting at the center.

Our last outing was on Grizzly Lake,

In the smoke of forest fires.

We felt like we were in an orange photo filter.

We made the big turn without a single bite,

In a zombie movie atmosphere.

This is what tomorrow is going to be,

We thought.

While Phil was steering the board,

My line got so tangled up that we had to head back to shore.

We really wondered what we were doing there.

Once we're on dry land,

We took out the tackle box to change my bait.

I choose a pink and silver spoon.

The lake is like oil.

There's not an ounce of wind.

I tell myself that this bait will reflect more sunlight and attract the trout.

As we climb back on the paddle board,

The birds start singing.

The wind picked up a little,

And the sun came out.

We wanted to go back over the area where we usually make good catches.

And just then,

Phil's rod bends in two.

I roll up my line and get ready to take the oar and net.

He brings in the fish.

The trout comes into view,

And we almost dropped it.

Fortunately,

I was able to catch it just before it unhooks.

Our dinner is assured.

We say thank you to the trout for the sacrifice.

And we were really happy with our teamwork.

July 30th,

2021.

It's the end of my 30-day Inside Timer course.

Here's what I've taken away from it,

And what I've been able to achieve during this intense period.

I revived my brother's spirit.

I invited him to come and purify himself into the river of soothing rocks.

His soul needed it.

I was able to offer him an oasis of love,

He who had suffered so much during his time on earth.

Through an intervening dream,

My father asked a friend to contact me to tell me that he is finally at peace.

It's a great achievement,

With all the members of my late family gathered around me.

My liver doesn't hurt anymore.

The spring water has diluted the rock I was carrying inside.

I let Willy go and live his cat life.

I also received my mission from my mother,

Who said gently to me,

You are the messenger.

I didn't cry as I scanned my body's energy and saw my chakras spinning like prayer wheels.

Finally,

I felt the doll's agitation in my throat.

She let me know she's ready to speak.

Thank you.

It was a fantastic experience.

1st of August,

2021.

The air is full of smoke,

So much so that I don't leave the house.

It's not the pandemic that confines me,

But the climate.

Willy is now independent.

I bought him a collar and a tag with his name and phone number in case he gets lost.

But I know he's free,

And so am I.

While surfing social media,

I also had a virtual encounter with a Pancra dancer.

Since the beginning of the pandemic,

He posts daily dance videos to spread joy,

Hope,

And positivity during these difficult times.

I always loved Indian music,

And here I am learning the steps of this Punjabi tradition.

I understand that this farmer's dance will help me to smile again and also to discover the source of my own joy.

I want to let go of another dark side of me.

There is still another side of me that takes refuge in darkness,

The one that denies me access to happiness and the expression of my inner joy.

When my mom died,

I knew that as a little girl,

I was condemned to unhappiness.

As an orphan,

I simply didn't deserve to be happy and light.

I want to dance to shake this destructive attitude out of me.

August 4,

2021.

Back from meditation.

I am now able to connect with my essence in just a few breaths.

I go to my forest below and meet an archetype hiding there,

My wild woman.

She's beautiful and loves yellow and orange.

She wears a straw hat decorated with a bee and her dress floats around her.

She took me to a clearing where long hay was growing.

We walked together and she showed me how I could help her make her mission a reality.

She asked me to keep sowing,

Watering,

Thinning,

Picking and transforming.

She told me how much she loved everything I'd been doing since I left my old life.

As we walked,

We passed the writer and also my mother who handed me a large sealed envelope.

The number 50 in flashing silver closed the flaps.

All these parts of me are telling me to get ready to open the envelope when I turn 50.

Then I'll be able to discover the message it contains for me.

I feel really privileged because I now have a deadline.

August 6.

I have a special relationship with my mother's only living sister.

We talk to each other on the phone from one end of the continent to the other.

We share the same worldview and I consider her my spiritual mother.

When I talk to her,

I feel like I'm talking to the kind of mother I'd like to have,

One who understands me.

August 7.

She asked me to tell her about my younger brother's short life.

I gave her a summary.

She confirmed what I already knew,

That my brother came into the world angry,

Clinging to my mother's breast,

Drawing all her attention.

My aunt reminded me that his first word was no and mine was more.

These few syllables contained the essence of our relationship,

A fundamental disagreement that was expressed in mutual hatred until he fell fatally ill and left us.

At the age of 27.

I was with him these last few years,

Trying to understand the source of his silence and his refusal to live.

It wasn't until I saw again the drawing he made for the family quilt when he was four that I understood his tragedy.

That of a tiny boy running,

Screaming from a burning house.

While I saw myself triumphant on a stage,

He was running for his life,

Fleeing an inhospitable house.

Maybe that's what motivates me to want to create a sanctuary so that all those who are suffering can stop and recharge their batteries.

On that subject,

We recently had a very special visitor.

A large woodpecker came to play drum on the trunk of one of the trees in our courtyard.

I could hear the sound,

Thinking how loud and unusual it was.

I went outside to track down the sound and discovered Woody the woodpecker himself clinging to the bark of a large tree.

Like a climatic refugee,

This large bird that doesn't usually frequent our mountains has found its way here,

Fleeing the extreme heat of the coast and the polluted air of the valleys it has landed here.

Watching him,

I felt a mixture of joy and sadness.

I was happy to welcome him into our home,

That he was able to find food and water,

But sad to know that he had to float here under the rest.

The great cedars of the rainforest are usually his home.

To survive,

He had to leave everything behind.

Now,

He has to deal with dogless fur and the cold of mountain nights.

August 9.

It's Monday.

I'm trying to get on with my day,

But it's really not easy.

I had bad dreams last night,

And this morning I feel cold inside.

My hands are icy.

I feel turned inside out and extremely tired.

All I want to do is lie on the couch and do nothing.

So be it.

In the afternoon,

It's the sound of chainsaws and wood chippers that rouses me from my apathy.

On my way to fetch water last Friday,

I saw forestry company employees taping off a cutting area along the source.

My source.

As someone who positions myself as a defender of the forest,

I feel attacked,

And I take it personally.

I felt at a loss and didn't know what to do,

So I practiced pangrass steps in the forest.

I want the energy to be stirred by hope and my little mountain to be saved.

But there's already a high-voltage power line bisecting it.

I know the system.

These people don't bring in electricity without thinking about making their installation profitable.

Housing development is coming in the heart of my forest.

Part of me knows that this is what progress is all about,

And that we have to make room for all these humans.

But why threaten the water and cut down trees?

I wonder who benefits from that.

I feel useless,

An immigrant,

Ignorant in a country that doesn't speak my language.

I feel enrivaled in my kitchen.

We are lucky to have the sanctuary.

It's becoming more and more meaningful.

Yesterday,

A squirrel wanted to take home one of our blankets for the garden.

We stood there,

Watching him work in awe of his skill and determination.

At least we're sovereign in our own home.

By planting trees,

Shrubs,

And flowers,

We want to create a planted trees to cut ourselves from the neighbors and the street.

I can feel extremist thoughts germinating inside me,

And I have to be careful not to descend into madness like my brother.

Chaining myself to trees is not a good solution.

There must be other actions to take so that nature is respected.

August 10,

2021 My necklace broke while refueling the pickup.

My food processor that I used to knit my bread has failed me,

And the internet no longer works.

I wonder what the messages of all these breaking are.

In the silence,

I realize that I must return to a stage of peace and not to be a slave to take the path of war.

I also need to make bread like my grandmother,

With my hands,

Not with a machine.

I want to present myself to the other humans being as a free woman,

Living in nature,

Healthy,

Loving,

Radiant,

And courageous.

I want to feel the love in everything,

All its vibrations,

But at the same time,

This other part of me judges me and tells me it's all pointless.

I need to focus on concrete activities so I don't get carried away with my ideas.

I need to embody myself as a baker,

A gardener,

A writer,

And a housewife,

So I need to give this writer more time to express herself.

I want to train like a top-level athlete.

I set myself the task of getting words out often and regularly,

And above all,

Not feeling guilty in the face of the judgment of others who might think that I'm doing nothing.

I do it for me first,

And who's looking at me and judging me right now,

But me.

August 16,

2021.

I spent the weekend confined because of the smoke.

I wear my mask when I go outside.

I find it more effective in dysfunction than during the pandemic.

The authorities have banned fishing.

All this really gives me a foretaste of the end of the world.

I remember when I was younger,

Studying sociology at the university.

I always wanted to avoid ignorance at all costs.

I didn't want to get caught up in a world I didn't understand.

I've been studying this world for a long time,

So much so that I convinced myself not to add children to it.

At the time,

I used to call people who wanted to reproduce unconscious.

Sometimes I see the human race as a self-centered parasite.

I have nothing,

No family,

No home,

No job,

And no car.

On mornings like this,

I feel free and tied down at the same time.

I feel at home nowhere,

Reduced to a ball of flight or a skeleton.

These ideas come to me as I contemplate the death card that I just picked from my tarot deck.

I want to face the truth without fear of the radical transformation that lies ahead,

I've never seen the figure on this card as a stripped-down me,

Mowing,

Separating the useful from the useless,

Working a black,

Fertile earth.

I receive much nourishment for my soul,

Gifts of all forms around,

I just had to see them.

I open my heart and archive them for the times when it will be more difficult.

Outside,

Because of the recent rain,

It smells like wet fire.

The smoke is dense and low,

Stinging the eyes.

It reminds me of end-of-party aromas,

Those of the bonfire put down at dawn after a long night.

I dance,

And a courage is returning with a smile.

I'm aware that my feet are pounding more than the ground,

That underneath is the mycelium,

The network created by mushrooms,

Our allies who connect everything.

Dormant or active,

They're there,

Ready to transform death into life,

Working their magic.

I have to rely on what I cannot see,

Trusting this vital force,

A force much bigger than my little self.