Learning to Try Softly — Alexandria Bay, New York

I decide to stay another two nights in New York State, just in case. I take a hotel room in Alexandria Bay, a small town in the heart of the Thousand Islands region. I remember how beautiful this area was two years ago. This time, I am on the U.S. side.

The balcony outside my room faces the river. The sound of the waves creates a sense of calm, which is just what I need.

I sit for a while, taking in the landscape, and start recording myself. That is the best way for me to write: simply pouring my heart out into thin air.

I watch a seagull dive into the water, pick up a fish, and then lose it. He does not give up. He dives down again, scoops up the fish, and flies away.

I should be like the seagull. Do not give up. Try again.

I start telling myself that I need to try harder, and then I stop myself in my tracks. A conversation I had with Adi just a few days ago opened my heart.

No, I do not need to try harder.

I need to try softly.

The universe is a soft, loving place. I need to move softly, with an open heart and a trusting mind. It means being fully aware of my thought process and gently shifting myself away from the edge.

There is no doubt that this is a challenging task. I am shifting a mindset I have carried for more than fifty years. It is not easy, but since my divorce in 2018, I have been on a steady path—shifting slowly, falling down, getting up, and continuing forward.

Nature helps me make the most significant shifts in my soul, but I cannot do it through nature alone. It is also the beautiful souls who enter my life, bringing their wisdom, their experiences, and their stories, which help me shift mine.

I am grateful for every one of them; even the ones who broke my heart. I am grateful that I am able to see them with a loving heart and compassion rather than resentment. All I wish is that they find their own peace as they sink into and move through their own pain.

I want so deeply to trust the universe, trust my journey, and trust myself. I know I am almost there.

I raise my eyes to the sky and say out loud, “Okay, I will make a deeper commitment to you, my universe, my God.”

Then my phone clicks with a text message.

I look up and say, “Oh, wow. You do not play games.”

The text is from “Kathy Boulder.” That is how I named her in my contacts.

Kathy is one of my followers. Back in December 2022, while I was visiting my son in Boulder, she reached out and asked whether I wanted to go hiking.

Yes, absolutely!

We tried to find a time to meet, but it never worked out. We spoke on the phone instead, and a connection began.

Two years ago, she texted me again while I was traveling through Canada and invited me to visit. I was too far away from her, so once again, we missed each other.

Now, she has read my last post and realizes there is a good chance I am in her area. She sends another invitation.

This time, I am only forty-five minutes away. She is literally on my way back to Ottawa.

I change my plans to make sure we finally meet in person.

What a pleasure and honor.

It is not the first time I have met someone who is technically a stranger, yet instantly feels like an old friend. We sit together for a long time, truly getting to know each other, sharing stories from our pasts and our wishes for the future.

I also enjoy meeting her husband, Dale. Dinner is absolutely delicious, and more importantly, we realize that we may have another chance to meet in November when they will go back to Colorado for a while.

Perhaps this is what trying softly looks like.

Staying open. Allowing myself to change direction. Trusting the invitation in front of me. Letting the journey lead me.