When my book, Unveiling Your Hidden Power, was translated into German and published last winter, we began to schedule a book tour. It looked like the easiest way to get from town to town without constant packing and repacking was to take a boat tour up the Rhine from Basel, Switzerland, to Amsterdam.
What follows are some of my accounts from that trip.

After several years of speaking almost every Sunday, as well as teaching monthly and weekly classes and recording a weekly radio show, I decided to take a break. I had agreed to speak at, and offer books at, the International New Thought Alliance conference in July, so I put together a road trip that included visits with family and clients across the western U.S. 

You can follow my journey by clicking on the links below:
    Summer Sabbatical 1: Oregon to New Mexico with Several Stops
    Summer Sabbatical 2: Across the Great Plains, INTA, and More
​    Summer Sabbatical 3: Back-roading through the great Southwest
​    Summer Sabbatical 4: A Different Kind of Retreat

I got to go to New Zealand! It was an unexpected, but totally amazing experience: 2+ weeks in New Zealand in August! Click on the links below to see my travel journal...

• ARRIVING: PART ONE
• PART TWO: NORTH ISLAND (including glow-worm cave and Hobbiton!)
• PART THREE: SOUTH ISLAND (including Mt. Cook / Aoraki)

It was an amazing, totally unexpected experience, and I so appreciate all the folks who made it possible!

Over a 2-week period a couple students and I had the good fortune to be able to visit a number of cities and rural areas around the United Kingdom. The links below lead to the different chapters in my journey...

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​May Travels 1 - Arriving in Portland Oregon & On to London

May Travels 2 - Essential London & the British Museum

May Travels 3 -Oxford & Brighton

May Travels 4 - Great & Small in Scotland

May Travels 5 - Following the Saints in Ireland

​It was an amazing 3+ weeks - traveling, connecting, enjoying, some teaching and discovering... and today I am in the mobile home in Waldport that is my current "home base"... resting a bit and catching up...

Three weeks, 4000ish miles, all kinds of beauty and good times with loving and beloved family and friends - and a little teaching, speaking, coaching, and wandering around the edges.

Got home last night and delighted to spend the day on my own couch, catching the sunshine as it fills the room between rain showers, watching the light shift on the hills... All is, truly, well!

​May these weeks of holy days be filled with love and beauty for all!

I got to spend several days in each area, studying the sites and the museum collections, and came to understand even better the process by which the ancient, Mother-focused, sharing, earth-oriented cultures were transformed into the male-dominated empire culture of expansion, accumulation, and control.

​250 kilometers north of Athens, on the side of Mt. Parnassas, is the site of the most famous oracle in the ancient world.
Looking around, I could see how, with mountain, ocean, and rich farmland coming together, this might be seen as the center of the world.
Arriving by steep trails up the mountain, pilgrims first cleansed themselves at the local spring, which, all over Europe, are dedicated to the divine feminine. Then on to the temple of Athena, the embodiment of wisdom. Then the marketplace to buy sacrifices for Apolo, and then through a series of buildings filled with the treasures people brought to the god and prophetess. The priests interviewed folks as they waited in line to ask their question, and guided the supplicants into the large temple to Apollo, at the back of which was a small, dark room (I took a picture of the location on the slab/foundation) where the virgin prophetess sat on a 3-legged stool, in a trance, and spoke syllables that the priest then interpreted for the supplicant. 
But in all this, there was one thing that caught my attention: the Pythia/ prophetess stopped at a large rock on her way to the temple to connect with Sybil, the very first woman in her position.
I went on up to the temple and took pictures of the area in which she would sit and prophesy, but there was no energy there - no sense of presence.
On the way back down, though, I stopped in front of that rock and was literally pushed backward by the energy pouring from it - as was my travelling companion, who was right behind me. Soon my mouth was forming sounds - glossalllalia. That rock, I realized, was the prophetic influence. Not any substance or gas...
Needless to say, the rest of the tour meant little after that.

The second major activity was a return trip to the island of Delos, where I had seen the famous Cycladic figures on my last trip. These are amazing: almost flat, with triangular heads, barely defined facial features and breasts, with arms invariably crossed under the breasts - always carved in white marble. I had to find out what these were about!
We took the ferry from Athens and arrived on Mykonos in the evening and the next morning headed for the old port, where the boat to the island of Delos sails twice daily. Sadly, both the museum and the shop on the island were closed. So, although I hadn't planned to stay with the guided tour, there really was no other way to use the hours until the boat left the island. 

And I'm so glad I did! Not that I learned anything about the figures, but the information this guide shared was very different from what I had heard before, and, again, filled in gaps and made sense of pieces I've been wondering about for some time. This guide was a student of anthropology and art history, as were we, so her understanding of what she saw was much more in alignment with our interests. For one thing, the dates of things were somewhat older than I had been told on the last trip, and the influence of the Romans much less. For another, she understood the symbols worked into the structures and the evolution of the place. So I got to see how the original island, with its stream and lake (very rare in this part of the world), trees, and meadows, was a bit of a paradise, dedicated to Leto, who, when transferred into the Greek pantheon, was called the mother of Apollo and Artemis, hiding from Hera, wife of their father Zeus.
Leto's temple is by the lake (which was emptied last year "because of malaria") and is the first temple one passes as one walks along the avenue of lions and enters the temple complex.
Leto is also said to have been a prophetess, so it's likely that a woman lived here who was considered the embodiment of the goddess, and taught and spoke for the goddess to the residents of the many islands that form a spiral around Delos (Cycla - des). 

The largest temple on the island is, of course, Apollo's, and there once was a huge statue of the god dominating the complex. (At some point in the 16th-17th century, the Portuguese thought they'd take it home with them and cut it up into pieces, but even they were too heavy for the ships, so the pieces are strewn across that part of the island.)
But, up the hill that is the dominant feature of the island, near the source of the stream (which, across Europe, are typically dedicated to the goddess (or female saint, under Catholic Christianity), is another, very visible temple, dedicated to Isis, the Egyptian Mother-goddess. 

Of course, the standard explanation has to do with the many cultures that overlapped on this island, but more likely, the last wave of Romans were those who honored the "dark madonna" - which they called Isis. Their images of her are scattered across Europe, and they used the name in many places where the Mother was still venerated.

As for the figures - well, a local merchant selling replicas called them "primitive attempts to model the human form," at which I refrained from laughing and let him know there are many, much older, much more accurate figures all over the Mediterranean.

​Fortunately, I was able to learn much more on Crete. The museum in Heraklion has many such figures, and also many other figures, tools, and vessels made at the same time. What became obvious is that these people were capable of fine, accurate representations of all kinds of life forms, but that they had buried these figures with their loved ones - these abstractions of the female form. So I've come to believe that they are representations of the divine Mother, buried with them to ensure Her guidance and love in the afterworld as in this one.
​

​The site is a half-hour bus ride from the museum at Heraklion. It's beautiful in the spring: olive trees in bloom, tall cypresses around the edges, surrounded by green hills lined with stone walls and dotted with wildflowers.
CoVid has meant the closing of several spaces, so it wasn't possible to go inside rooms, but we got a good sense of the layout of the excavation, and saw much of the "restoration" undertaken by generations of  archeologists and art historians over the past hundred years.
And what I saw was neither a palace nor a temple, but a town, like Taos Pueblo or Catal Hayuk. A beautifully laid out and decorated set of structures with shared walls, a deep step well, a broad avenue and central atrium/square, a sewer and storm water drain system, carefully designed light wells, and shared storage facilities in the center.
It's a very tall structure, at least 6 stories in many places, so it's not too surprising that they had to figure out something other than thick piles of stones covered with plaster as walls. Columns supporting the next level up and letting both light and air into the interior made perfect sense.
I read all the explanations on the signs and didn't know whether to laugh or cry over the assumptions built into the interpretations - archeologists have not historically been trained in anthropology and it is so obvious here! So, while I greatly appreciate all the work that has gone into this display, it's a bit saddening to think of how it reinforces empire culture assumptions.
Even the stories told by the Greeks about this place are written from and about the ways that empire works. King Minos ruling over the islands, a minotaur devouring Greek youths - totally unsupported by the cultural norms of this space at that time.
We didn't make it down to the labyrinth cave, but that, too, is a reconstruction, and ignores the evidence of sacred soul journeys into the inner core of being, where we all are a mixture of human and animal, and all can be transformed into the fully human beings we were born to be.

Seeing all these things in person - feeling the presence of the past - has brought my thinking into clearer focus. I'm so glad I made this journey!

​   Many of you knew I was making the trip from Oregon to Texas this stormy week so I want to reassure you that I made it through around the edges of the worst weather.
   I left the Florence Fellowship after Sunday’s service and the class that followed, drove to my new little home in town, changed clothes, finished loading the car, refilled my water bottle – and was on the road by 1pm. I had checked the weather and it was clear I wouldn’t be going south on I-5 with the storm in the Siskiyous, or north to I-84, with the rain and snow there, so that meant going East.
   First leg was across the Cascades after the first snowfall. Absolutely beautiful – though slow going, of course.

   ​I did have a significant adventure that first night, however.
  It took longer than anticipated to get through the mountains so I got into Central Oregon later, and the temperature plunged further, than expected.  All that meant Hwy 97 was a ribbon of ice, with a long line of cars and trucks moving slowly and steadily along – until about 30 miles north of Klamath Falls when I came over a rise and there before me was a string of brake lights.
   I tapped the brake gently … and spun around! Out of control! The first time in years of driving in all kinds of conditions. I ended up on the opposite shoulder, facing the other direction, stopped by the bank of snow created by the snowplow. Everything's working, not even really shook up – whew!
   Then the driver of the truck that had been behind me came over to see if I was okay. I was fine, with lots of blankets and food and water, and told him so. He told me he wished he could help but the car was too far into the snow to get me out.  Then he said something that I didn’t even really register until later: “yeah, that ice is something. It’s a good thing the truck that’s in front of me saw me coming and moved a bit or I would have hit him.” Oh my! My car would have been smashed between them if it hadn’t spun away! Thanks be to All That Is for taking care of me so well!
   He got back in his truck and a few minutes later the line of traffic moved a bit and a few cars came the other direction. I turned on my flashing lights and called my insurance company, and they started trying to find a tow truck. At one point a woman asked if I would be okay spending the night there…. ??!! On the side of a major highway with cars and trucks sliding in 24degree weather?? – possible, but definitely not preferable!
   I had just shut the phone off when there was another tap at the window. Another truck driver was asking if I was okay – such nice people!  I reassured him and then he said “would you like it if I got a few guys to help you get out of here?” And of course I said, “That would be fantastic!”
   The next thing I knew there were half a dozen men with shovels and garbage can lids clearing away the snow from under and around my car, then a guy showed up with a big tow rope, and another was in an SUV backing up in front of me… the line of cars and trucks had begun to move again but they stuck with me – wow.
   I have no idea what they tied that big, thick rope to but they did, and soon I was gently accelerating, keeping that rope taught, spinning the wheels only a little … and then I was moving! Out of the snowbank and onto the road! Whoopee! Thank you! Thank you! I shouted my thanks to all involved – and to the divine Presence they had embodied for those powerful minutes in the dark and cold.
   The guys were out of there in seconds, all back in their trucks and headed south. I drove north a few hundred feet and was able to turn around and head south, as well.
   In a few minutes the road was clear and wet, then clear and dry. I drove into Klamath Falls around 7pm, refilled the gas tank and picked up a turkey wrap. I was feeling good so I thought maybe I might complete the planned distance even though I was nearly 3 hours behind schedule.
   Heading south out of Klamath Falls was lovely – clear and dry. Then, suddenly I was in a blizzard, and the road was again icy. And the car wanted to slide. Nope – not happening again. I gingerly eased it around and headed back into town, where the Motel 6 was open and the guy at the desk said a lot of people were there who hadn’t planned to be.
   Oh, by the way, the motel reservations I had made online for much further down the road that night (and hadn’t cancelled) had not gone through – the server had gone down just as I had hit “confirm” so I was not charged. The Universe really does take care of me.
   In the motel room I checked the weather and wondered if I was going to spend a couple days in K Falls… but in the morning, I was awakened by car doors slamming. I peaked out the window – no snow! no ice! And when I checked the forecast for various spots, there was clear and warm temperatures at all points Eastward. So I headed for Winnemucca and Salt Lake City.