Reposted from Deb Ozarko Website

We can’t know why the Universe wants us to be mobile and flexible. We may never know—or it may become readily apparent as things unfold.

Janaia Donaldson, founder of Peak Moment Television (from a recent email exchange)

We are living in a time that defies all comprehension. A time where we are one sociopathic tweet away from nuclear annihilation, and one subsea burp away from an Arctic methane burst that will cook us from the inside out.

And the race is on for what destroys us in the end.

In one corner is runaway climate change. In the other corner is nuclear Armageddon. Both contenders are heavy weights backed by the unstoppable power of an inert mass consciousness. Runaway climate change has unfathomable stamina in its favour, where nuclear Armageddon comes out swinging with its blazing speed. It promises to be a fierce and bloody battle where no one will be left standing in the end. “Who” will be our “winner”?

Ding. Ding. Ding. Let’s get ready to rumble!


It’s been four months since I felt the impulse to write a blog post. There were many occasions when I felt I “should”, but I made a promise to myself that I would only share what needs to be expressed outwardly for my own evolution—and only when I felt inspired to do so. As my wise email friend, Hauk says, “Don’t do another thing unless you can feel it coming through your Soul”. I couldn’t agree more.

Needless to say, my desire for outward expression of late has been nil. I’ve felt little interest in sharing my inner world with others beyond those closest to me. Quite honestly, I’ve also been at a loss for words with the intensifying chaos in the world. After all, there is only so much that can be said about the incomprehensible brutality of the prevailing “reality, and the forces of entropy that are closing in around us. Not to mention the intensifying melt of Arctic sea ice, an endless summer of “unprecedented” wildfires in my home province, British Columbia, and the epic flooding that is turning parts of our planet into Waterworld.

Drought and deluge; fire and flood; heat and melt; nukes and business as usual. What the fuck?!

Maintaining sanity in an insane world requires immense bandwidth, and so isolating from the lunacy of “business as usual” as the world collapses all around us is the only thing that makes sense to me. I feel little connection to humanity, including my own. Lately, I’m finding myself quite effortlessly leaning into unapologetic misanthropy. At the same time, this unprecedented era of imminent collapse is strengthening my connection to the sacred.

For the past 16 weeks, I’ve been living in the land of fast and slow. In one aspect of reality—the reality of my own creation—I can barely keep up. Although my life is already one of simplicity, I continue to let go, let go, let go. The impulse to let go is driving me with such persistence, that I’ve been feeling a sustained sense of fatigue that I find difficult to shake. Needless to say, napping has become one of my new favorite pastimes.

In another aspect of reality is the monotonous drone of business as usual; the painfully slow, cumbersome stasis of an inert consciousness that persists in destroying everything around us. I frequently wonder how this can possibly go on much longer. Intuitively, I feel that the end is nigh, but my mind can’t comprehend what that really means. In many ways, it seems so fast, and in others, it feels so dreadfully … agonizingly slow.

Since my last post, so much has happened that I don’t know where to begin. The acceleration is dizzying; spiraling, growing and expanding rapidly beyond itself.

Case in point: a few months ago (June 13, to be exact), we moved back to the Sunshine Coast, returning as two very different people. An experience with a drunken neighbor served as the metaphor that catalyzed potent forces that revealed to me, it was time to go home. My time in the Okanagan was complete. It was time to return to the ocean, the rainforest, and my sacred chosen family—my Ohana.

Although the Coast still appears the same—and all those I once engaged with remain relatively unchanged—it is me who sees the coast (and the world, for that matter) through very different eyes. The infinite spiral of evolution has allowed me to create an entirely different reality for myself; one that is rooted in radical acceptance.

When we left the coast last October, we left with a sense of urgency, with the dying ocean as the catalyst for our departure. The internal press was clear: relocate to the mountains. No “ifs”, “and’s” or “but’s”. The evolution that my Self as Soul required, insisted that I leave behind the ocean and rainforest I love so deeply, to insulate and isolate for the quantum leap in evolution that was being called forth from within. In hindsight, I’m now able to clearly see why the move was necessary. It could only happen in a wide open physical space with significant elevation in order to expand into the endless more that I know my Self to be. My intellect assumed the move would be “permanent”, but the I AM that I am (the Soul) knew otherwise all along.

Ten months has passed since our departure from the Coast and in some ways, it feels like we never left. In other ways however, it feels like years. Linear time is warping and merging; with past, present and future playing out simultaneously. While this used to feel disorienting, it now makes sense to me, and I see the illusion that time has been all along.

The evolution that occurred during my spell away from the Coast is beyond words. Although it eventually brought me back to the ocean, I do not return with a “full circle” mindset. Rather, I return in what feels like an expansive turn on what I now call, “the infinite spiral of evolution”.

It is interesting to notice how those I had little to no contact with during my time away, expect who I once was to still be. This is simply not the case. It is these interactions that show to me more clearly, the depth and breadth of transformation that transpired in the Okanagan. The Coast may not have changed; the people may not have changed; and I may not have changed (at least, physically), but energetically (mentally/emotionally/spiritually), my entire paradigm has changed. I feel a profound sense of ease in an unwavering acceptance where I didn’t before.

The internal press to move to the mountains last fall took me deeper into a density that caused me to not notice certain things that would normally distract me with grief and despair. In this density, I was able to be more present for—and focused on—my own personal evolution. And so I return to the Coast more evolved, more whole, more healed, and much more at peace than when I left.

Because everything in life is a metaphor for everything else, from a geographical perspective, I have chosen to return to the edge: to ground zero. Being at the edge in a more evolved state of calm acceptance, I no longer hold any fear of living on the edge. And so I see things very differently. Although I now feel the edge even more than I did before, I know that I am home. This is where I am meant to be when it all goes down; surrounded by the majesty of Gaea, and the respect and integrity of my supportive Ohana.

There is more however.

Our return to the Coast was met with with great enthusiasm by all those we hold dear. Repeatedly however, we were warned about the “competitive and expensive” rental market—particularly with our extensive animal family. I listened to the fearful warnings with detachment. I knew the prevailing story of scarcity that was being projected onto me, did not apply to my family. Why? Because I do not choose scarcity in my life. It’s that simple. In rejecting this story, I was free to create my own. Within 24 hours of our decision to return to the Coast, we were offered two rental options that were not only beautiful and affordable, they were also welcoming of our entire family. This proved to me yet again, that we really do create our own reality.

We ended up choosing the place that felt most right. I had a deeper knowing however, that it would only be for the short-term; a place to touch down, regroup, reconnect, lighten up, let go, and take off once again. It was not meant to be a destination, rather, a pit stop along the way. Initially (as always), I had no clue what that meant. It didn’t take long however, before the accelerating energies in my life aligned for what was to be next.

As the world continues its rapid downward spiral, I find myself connecting deeper and deeper within. By repeatedly saying yes to my Self, my internal messaging is arriving with greater clarity and direction. In this acceleration, I often feel like I’m living in a “gap”, where by acting immediately on my internal messaging, it is already real to me—even when it hasn’t yet fully materialized.

Since my time in the Okanagan, I’m discovering that the gap between the “future” that I already know (internally/energetic), and the present that hasn’t yet caught up (externally/material), is getting shorter. It sometimes feels like I’m living in a parallel universe that is somehow still connected (albeit by a thread) to this illusory “reality”.

Within weeks of landing on the Coast, it became clear to me that the next turn on the infinite spiral of evolution required of me to adopt a more nomadic way of life, free from the burden of consumption that comes with static roots.

On August 6—less than two months from our coastal return—we bought what we now lovingly call, the “30 foot metaphor”: a 1990 Ford Fleetwood RV, otherwise known as Freedom: the Traveling Vegan Beach House. It has been the ultimate catalyst for prompting even more letting go: of stuff, of roots, of any remains of my former sense of identity, of memories, of fear of the unknown, of all that defines what I’ve known as comfort, of conditioned belief systems, and of living for any semblance of a long-term future. From an intellectual standpoint, it makes little sense and I still sometimes wonder, “what the fuck did we just do?” To my Soul however, it is exactly where I am/we are meant to journey next.

As I let go and live “smaller”, squeezing my life (and that of my partner and our 3 dogs and 3 cats) into a 30 foot living space, my life—our lives—become more expansive. We are currently in the process of letting go of everything that no longer serves us, both physically and energetically. Needless to say, we are being ruthless with our “releasement” (a term coined by Joseph Chilton Pearce during a retreat I attended a few years ago). In this, we are realizing what is truly important for our mobile, gypsy adventure, where the RV will serve only as our bedroom, and the great outdoors will serve as everything else.

As we continue to let go, we are also discovering how resilient and resourceful we both are as we tackle our renovations: the removal and repair of water damaged walls; caulking and resealing our rig; removing old, dated carpets, flooring, window coverings, furniture, etc. “Freedom” will be transformed into a more self-sustaining entity with rooftop solar panels, an outdoor solar shower, and much more to allow us the autonomy to “boondock” in isolated places. So far, it has proven to be a bigger job than we originally anticipated (isn’t that always the way). But in only three short weeks, we’ve already completed all that is required in the “demolition” phase so that we can finally commence the rebuild. Our intention is to have it renovated and ready to roll by November 1st. If we aren’t nuked by then—by Gaea, or by the egotistical, patriarchal pissing contest currently underway—we are considering making our way through Washington, Oregon, California, Arizona, New Mexico, and possibly, Colorado. I readily admit that I feel trepidation about leaving the familiar safety (thus far) of Canada. At the same time, I have always wanted to visit the Oregon coast and take in the breathtaking beauty that still remains in that part of the world.

While we renovate our new “home”, I continue to refine my next book, Beyond Hope (first draft is complete), and live my life of presence and “being”. There are times when I know that being is more than enough. There are others where I still struggle … where I ask myself, “why am I still here when it all feels complete?” And then I realize, that is exactly the point. It is complete. There is nothing for me to do, be, say, or create within this antiquated “reality” anymore. Now that I see it for what it is, there is no sense of meaning or purpose that can ever be found within an illusion of reality to which I no longer subscribe. In my journey of letting go, I know that I am here to witness the end as an essential presence, holding space into which the collapse will fall. My greatest challenge in these times is finding within myself the peace to no longer feel compelled to do anything about it. In Gaea I trust, and in that, there is nothing left to be done.

In evolving beyond the illusion, my sole purpose now is evolution for the sake of evolution alone—with the remembrance that immortality is what defines the I AM that I am as Soul. After all, I either know myself as a spiritual being or not. When I forget, I suffer in grief and despair over the sheer stupidity of this world. When I remember who and what I am—as Soul temporarily animating flesh—I clearly see the illusion that mortality is and I am able to live more connected to each new moment. I live in ease, with presence as the only way, while the arrogance of this insane civilization fades into the background of my consciousness.

The “end” may be near, but it only applies to this incarnation. Infinity—as Soul—remains.

In his book, Life After Death, Deepak Chopra wrote, “The wise know that “death” can be turned away with two words: I am. There is no permanence in life. Possessions come and go, as do other people and beings. By clinging to the notion that we are permanent and that the world is forever, we bring great suffering to ourselves.

In I am, there is nothing that can be destroyed. I am has no possessions, no expectations, and everything you will ever need, in this world or the one to come.”

In my quest to master impermanence, all that I continue to let go of, liberates me further from the illusion that I no longer subscribe to. I confess that I’ve yet to discover a means of removing myself completely, and from bearing witness to the nightmare the illusion is. I remain open to the possibility however; a possibility free from denial, despair, mood altering substances, altered states, pharmaceuticals, anti-depressants, or other dramatic measures that only serve to hinder the evolution of the Soul. As much as I want “out”, if I am here at this time to be fully present, holding space and bearing witness to the end, so be it.

Mastering impermanence—as a middle aged nomad in a 30 foot RV—may just be my ticket to sanity (and enlightenment?!) in these increasingly insane times.

Discover more from Carolyn Baker

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