Where did it all go?

There was a time in my life when I held on to someone, listening to the very same music I am listening to at the present moment.

The present moment.  It is a gift, isn't it?

It's been a long time since I've felt the tug of a special someone, had someone to lean on when I felt scared, felt needy, or felt love.

And yet, I've never lived more truer to myself.  Sure I've always had people to listen to me, that I could rely on, that I've loved.  But I misinterpreted my status for many years thinking that something was holding me back, preventing me from realizing a special goal, only seen on the courts of romantic relationships.

The thing is that it's just energy.  And I didn't put that energy in the right place for years.

Just a year ago my wants were drastically different from what I wants now!

I went on a trip to Hawaii in March of 2014.  I'm a grown-up dammit, and I deserve this, I told myself.  It was as absolutely lovely as you might imagine.  I've never travelled beyond the confines of this continent so to be in the middle of the Pacific ocean was the coolest thing I've ever done, as far as I'm concerned.

But I went there with this energy, this lacking feeling, this need to have something to show for this love that I felt in my heart.  And the islands are a magical place, as you might imagine, and I was granted a wish.

I wound up choosing a random spot on my GPS to check out on one of the last days of my trip.  It was the Kukaniloko birthing stones, a place where in ancient times, chiefs and chiefesses went to give birth, a birth said to be painless and filled with great spiritual energy.

I saw leis and jewelry strewn about, offerings from laypeople trying... well probably to get laid and have a good baby.  I walked around the site, absorbing as much of the calm energy I felt there and found a rock, a goofy-looking rock off to the side, that I felt some sort of strange geological connection to, said a prayer, and left behind a bracelet.

Energy.

I came back to Montreal and went about my business, moved into a great space in St-Henri and before I knew it, 9 months went by and it was Christmas.

My grandfather's side of the family is Icelandic, and as such, we have a tradition of pulling Runes.  It was Christmas day, and my mom had received a new batch as a gift, and my family sat around the table, each pulling runes and reading its wits aloud.  The rune I pulled made for an awkward reading.  In very clear terms, it spoke of seed-planting and O's.  O's, because there were kids around.  It wasn't clear to me yet, but a few months later, I pulled the same rune at another family gathering.

Suddenly, as the tears came pouring out of my blushing face, it all made sense.

Energy.

For years, but especially this year, I've allowed the comedian in me to flourish.  I've produced some shows, taken a lot of risks, and feel more dedicated to the craft than ever before.  I'm even taking a year off of my very comfortable, joy-filled job to honor this need in me to make funny.

And as I sat there at my mom's supper table, my niece staring at me as I cried, I told my family about the wish I made at the ancient birthing stones.  I prayed for a baby, and soon I'll be taking this comedy-infant thing to Toronto and I'll watch it grow.

Kukaniloko actually means "to anchor the cry within." Anchored, it is.  That energy is finally being given the space it needs and it just feels right.

Drive-By Truckers,
Katie