How Do You Find North Again?

I recently took my yearly solo journey/adventure. I’m still unpacking the magic and wisdom from the trip. Here are a few nuggets of love from my teachers, to you…

We’re made up of earth. We have iron in our blood and water in our veins. We are dense and moist in places, and we are soft and tender in others. And just like the needle of a compass, we have forces in our bones that point us home. The needle of a compass always points north. And we are all still made of wise, ancient substance that always, always points north.

I’d call this intuition. Knowing home, trusting your own voice, taking the steps before even knowing them – this is intuition of the body, of the earth.

When a human being is healthy and in her own power, she can sense without looking where to move next. Like walking in the woods at night under a new moon, you cannot see, and your other senses step softly, but boldly forward.

This intuition can guide your life. It is practical. It can tell you what moves to make in career, love, family, and community.

I’ve been lucky. I was raised to attune these senses. I’m hyper sensitive to my surrounds AND I had early training to listen and trust my innate guidance. Even with this early advantage, I’ve been lost in the proverbial woods more times than I can count. I have lost relationship with my intuition.

It happens. We cover our senses, we do not trust our bodies. Whether the result of trauma, culturally-learned mistrust of intuition, or many other factors; even the most attuned among us fall aloof. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, we feel we have awakened in the dark, strange woods cold, alone, and without a compass.

So how do we find north again?

While I was on my journey in the Boundary Waters last month, it rained a lot. I had a bad cold and a slight fever. There was mud and murk and wet everywhere. The sky was grey and little sun was shining through. I wanted to be sad. I felt myself pulled into the darkness of the situation. I felt heavy and lifeless. I felt like I had made a thousand mistakes. I felt I was missing signs. I had grown apart from the sacredness of the woods. I couldn’t connect. I thought maybe I had been away from the woods so long that this was punishment. In a moment, I felt like a failure.

Then I sunk down. I remembered to trust. I remembered that whatever was happening now was the path. I remembered that my body was a gift. I remembered that the trees and the wind had songs in them, even under grey skies. I started singing them. I reached directly into the experience I was having in that moment and let it stretch out fully. I cried like the sky. I wiped my nose on the moss. I felt the earth take me back. I let my body soften in grief and I let the soft tendrils of the lake lap over my body. I gave in. And she gathered me right up. I felt held like I hadn’t in far too long.

Afterwards I could see again. It’s as if a layer of the world peeled back. The trees started shaking their music at me. The lake became still, and a very good listener. And the animals (eagle, loon, otter) came out to say hello. One night, as I sat by the lake at sunset a family of four otters swam by. They stopped directly in front of me, only 15 feet out or so. They looked at me strangely, rolled and played with each other, made their chirping music, and swam off. It was a gift.

After surrendering what I had been holding in my body, in my heart; the world came alive again. I began to see signs all around. The unseen world stepped forward and had so much to say I could almost not record it all. Suddenly, wisdom and guidance poured out of every leaf, every rock, every drip of water. And then, the sky cleared.

I tell you, the world is full of magic, guidance, and love when we allow ourselves to stretch out and let our whole lives in.