Ever since Montana, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be alone. Alone in the wilderness, sitting with Mama Earth. Alone with my physicality, dropping out of my head and into my body. Alone with Her, rolling around in our own deliciousness.

At the end of the retreat She told me I needed to create space – physical, mental, emotional and energetic space – for Her. I had visions of a small place, just for me, in nature. I even had a couple of leads on tiny spaces I could rent for a few weeks or months in the Bay area. I was prepared to walk away from living with my partner, just to honour this new relationship with Her… which is a big deal, because my intimate relationships have (until this one) been a string of only-partially-controlled disasters and my current partner is a very good man, who I love dearly.

For the past month I’ve agonised about the solution I thought had been presented: a tiny apartment in the middle of the city. To be clear: I was and still am incredibly grateful for this space. The whole thing was orchestrated by Her and another soul. I didn’t make it happen – She literally dropped it into my lap. The apartment has a little garden and it’s gorgeous, so it was about as good as a place in the city that I shared with my partner was going to get. But a part of me was left wondering – what the fuck? Every cell in my body is screaming for SPACE and what I get is this tiny little area that I have to SHARE?

And then I felt incredibly ungrateful. Because I had some things that many women like me would love to experience – a partnership with a good man who’s aware of what’s going on for me and completely supports my evolution, an affordable place to stay in a city gripped by a serious housing crisis, a new relationship with my own soul AND the funds to support myself for six months while I get to know Her better. Surely this should have been more than enough for me to be happy with? After all, I have no real problems and nothing to really be unhappy about, so surely I could just get the fuck over myself?

And in all that agonising, I neglected the small everyday steps I could have taken to create more space… meditation, dancing, singing and even writing. The things I know bring me closer to Her. Because there’s still a whole lot of fear around actually being with Her, in this body.

And I saw more fear driving the need to be alone. There’s the fear that if I’m in the world – around other people, doing everyday stuff – I will not be able to even maintain, let alone deepen, this connection with Her… because there’s a reluctance to stake out, claim and really own space for myself in my environment. Because way down deep, there’s the fear that allowing myself to be seen in the world, fully expressing my gorgeous soul’s fire, isn’t safe and will get me killed. Because somehow I’ve come to believe that true radiance is only safely expressed in private, with just the wind and the trees and the waves for company. I started to wonder whether the need for space was a true expression of my soul’s desire or just a set of stories plastering over the fear of death.

Two days ago, the agonising stopped. The decision has been made for me. My visa application was refused. I’ll most likely be spending at least 6 months (probably longer) in my country of birth – without my partner. That space I was craving? Here it is.

After a day or two of open-mouthed shock at how quickly the foundations of a life can shift, I’ve started to feel into a new set of possibilities. There’s a part of me still grieving the loss of one dream. At the same time, there’s another part starting to create a new vision. One involving a lot of quiet time in the wide open spaces of this green and brown and blue country. One that allows ample time for meditation, dancing, singing and writing. One that will require a leap of faith, because it doesn’t yet show me a clear path to financial sustainability… but one that She loves. And I’ve promised to choose Her first, so it’s time to let go of my need to know how this will turn out and trust Her wisdom.


Because maybe this is perfect. Maybe it’s just what I need. Maybe She’s creating a chrysalis we can inhabit for the next few months, a safe space within which I can completely dissolve and from which we can emerge with wings shining in rainbow colours, ready to fly. Maybe I needed to be here – on this land where I’ve never really felt settled – to truly come home.