Sorry for my absence these past few weeks. Sometimes, despite our very best intentions and planning, life just gets in the way, and this recent period has been one of those exceptional phases.

If I were to sum it up briefly, it has been a time of hard goodbyes and new beginnings.

Coco, my beautiful rescue baladi-mix (below), finally made his long, frightening and heart-breaking journey to his new home in the UK. Only to be rejected by his new owner after just 11 days, and find himself in a kennel as an emergency solution, until we could find him his real forever home.

Thanks to the incredible international network of animal lovers, in particular, Becky Scott, who adopted a baladi from Dahab last year, he met his new family this weekend, and will join them, their other dog, horse and humans later this week, on his new nine-acre farm. It has been a hard and painful process, but I am so deeply relieved for this more-than-happy ending. I wish them all a very loving and fun-filled life together. Thank you to everyone who helped and took care of Coco along the way.

From my side things have been no less difficult. Coco's upheaval took place three days before I was due to leave Dahab, which has been my home for the past 16 and a half years. I decided to relocate last year and the process has taken me nine months, which feels like forever, but maybe in the scheme of international relocation with pets, is pretty good. 

In that time I became a resident of the Canary Islands, rented a house, got a bank account, a car, sold my houses in Dahab, had a breakdown, broke up with my partner of three a half years (which is too personal to go into here, but also too important to brush over...), and finally made the journey with three flights and an overnight in Madrid from Sharm to La Palma, with a dog, three cats and six pieces of luggage (plus a friend to help me with all of the logistics - I certainly couldn't have done it alone!! 

In that leaving process were so many goodbyes, so many tears, so many moments when I thought I wouldn't make it, when I wondered if I was doing the right thing. So many moments when I cried from frustration, powerlessness and anger (I was blocked from entering Belgium to take Coco to the UK THREE times - due to the combined Brexit-Covid shit-storm), and many more when I dug deep and trusted my intuition and my resources to keep going. 

And now here I am, sitting at my new garden table, in my new house, looking out over my new and utterly fabulous view of the Atlantic ocean stretching over the horizon. Listening to.... other than birds and bees.... complete silence...

From my back garden, all I see is mountain and pristine forest, and it is here that I can be found every morning, exploring shaded tracks among ancient Canary pines, with Max, my gorgeous baladi. 

I'm grateful every time I make myself something to eat - fresh bananas, papaya and perfect avocados grown right here on this fertile little island. Fresh goats cheese, vegetables, organic brown bread, and vegan yoghurts... I really feel the abundance of nature here. On my walks I have discovered abandoned mulberry trees, weighed down by their fruit, begging to be picked - and oh, the unbelievable sweetness! 

I have yet to explore the ocean - Max is not ready to be left alone, so where I go, he needs to be able to go too. We're enjoying this new closeness and interdependence. He's such a good, beautiful boy, and receives compliments everywhere we go (proud mama!).

The cats are settling in at their own pace. Twinkle-Toes, who is over 16 years old now, is grounded in her maturity, wisdom and trust in me. She wants to explore the garden and beyond, although for now I'm trying to limit her adventures to the garden only... and have to put up with her persistent miaowing as a result, as she insists she's ready and won't get lost.

Sky and Blossom, my ten-month old kittens, are coping in their own ways. Sky (male) is curious and is investigating every part of the house, including the top of every cupboard. He loves looking out of the windows, especially as the volcanic-black lizards skitter across the garden path - but thankfully no curiosity to go outside - yet.

Blossom (female), who is more cautious, hides underneath my duvet as soon as I leave the house during the day, coming out only in the evening for dinner, or when I'm around to make her feel relaxed and safe. They will all take their time and it's my job, having moved them all, to make them feel safe and allow them to explore and grow at their own pace. 

As for me, I am taking a break. I feel how deeply exhausted I am from the planning and doing of the past six months, the emotional journey of so many goodbyes, many of them deeply painful. I recognise the need to break my pattern of keeping busy, and am sinking gratefully into a less frenetic pace, one where a hike, watering the garden, cuddling the cats and half an hour of learning Spanish is enough. More than enough. And I'm learning to embrace the culture of the siesta! :-)

Having been teaching the many layers of spiritual practice for so many years, I feel that I am unfolding into my next phase, one that lies at the core of all 'becoming', that of 'pure being'. It feels part of my natural cycle - as a woman and teacher - to be entering this phase of slowing down, and embodying easeful living. So I am learning to let each moment be enough in itself. 

I am learning to stop running; running to become, running to prove myself, running to be enough, running away, running to avoid. I am learning to sit and to be with whatever is - be it the silence, the discomfort, the pain, the patience, the loneliness, the uncertainty, the doubt, the fear... And then getting curious about what might lie beyond them... old anger, anxiety, regrets, disappointments... 

All of these emotions need time and space, they deserve my full attention and respect. I owe it to myself, to this process, to all of these goodbyes, to bring my full honesty, courage and awareness so that I can grow and learn, deepen, rather than skim the surface of experiences in my rush on to the next. 

As my dear friend Yorron Hackmon (RIP) reminded me with this beautiful work of art many years ago... 

I hope you are too, and can trust in your own process, no matter how unwanted, uncomfortable, unexpected or painful it might be right now. There are gems hidden in the darkest soil, the lotus flower blooms from the mud... 

And PS - if you would like to receive these Musings hot off the press when they go out (fb is always 1-2 days later - this one is actually a week delayed due to moving and technology issues), you can sign up to my community for Musings and news here : www.discoveryourdepths.com/newsletter