A call can be a sweet whisper, a surrender to the unknown, a tiny jolt into beingness, a pleasant undertaking for the world anew. But more often that not, it is a violent pull, a calling impossible to refuse, a cry so loud, so poignant, impossible to resist and yet, so uncomfortable to answer to. You may move forward unwillingly. You may jump at the chance of your destiny, only to retreat back into yourself for further reflection and resistance. But deep down you know, you’ve always known that it was there, it was always there and would always be there, no matter how much you pushed it back in the background of your mind, body and soul, no matter how hard you forgot it, no matter where and when life lead you astray.
I’m heading to Vancouver. Again. To Vancouver Island. Again. To Salt Spring Island. Again. And I will go back in the months to come. Yes, again. The call is strong, my resistance has been uncanny and it’s the only place I should be.
I marvel at the orchestration of life and all the steps, tiny and immense that lead me there and then, for a calling I could have never have imagined, or welcomed, or called forth, for a calling that always ran in the background of my reality.
I grew up fighting against myself, against religion and spirituality and any form of non-rationality. I was denying my experience, I was denying the invisible worlds, I was rejecting what was already calling, incrementally and loudly, I was arguing against my becoming. Looking back, I see it was always there. Always, in a form or another, in a course, a book, a person, even a priest I made friends with in Bolivia, a remark, an interest, a push to the unknown. When I look at my astrological chart, it was fated. The call and the resistance. To travel, to learning, to spirituality. When I observe the past few years, I marvel at the orchestration of it all. It becomes so ludicrous, so unbelievingly impossible, and yet, when choosing a higher lens, the road of intuition and my higher self, the patterns of events, synchronicities, encounters and signs always point to a path unknown, and yet, already known.
You can always resist the flow of life and fate. And it will always nudge you back, redirect you, offer new possibilities to become you.
I remember myself heavily debating and defending atheism with a pastor at university in Sweden in a Religion and Society class. How and why I even signed up for that class is beyond me.
I recall the essays about God, atheism and the void of life I was writing with a friend in high school.
I hear back the story about how, as a 3 or 4 year old, I rebuked a priest about a nativity scene.
I had bought a Bible to read and prove it wrong and I kept, two decades later, the book from that course in Sweden.
I met the priest in Bolivia, who was smiling at my fervent atheism and still kindly took me out and showed me around.
I’m recalled this heated discussion about spirituality and healing, a few months before I dove in, on a beach in Bosnia, where I complained about the ludicrousness of a book about the subject.
What you resist, persists. What you resist, exists within you. What you resist might be your greatest calling.
It all started with a podcast recommendation. I was so depressed, that I was ready for some light, any light, release and relief. It came through a dialogue with my own inner voice. And from there, everything accelerated and lead me to where and when I was supposed to be. I vowed to only follow my intuition for a year, in big and small decisions. And soon, it became a way of life, of being, of connection with the universe, a path that would bring me home to myself.
The orchestration is marvellous. On an intuition, I moved to Edinburgh and applied for a Working Holiday Visa in Canada, which took 18 months to process because of the pandemic. I was not sure I wanted to move to Canada anymore and I had so much resistance into leaving my cocoon. I met an angel. We decided to validate my Canadian visa, just in case. We went to Vancouver and Vancouver Island. On a fated morning, another one, the last day of our trip, leaving our Airbnb for breakfast, I opened a free little library box just down the road and grabbed a book, called Shaman. I was in such despair when leaving Vancouver and I didn’t understand why. In the plane home, seeing a wondrous Aurora Borealis display above the country, I knew. I knew I would be back and I was getting ready to answer the calling of shamanism. A few days later, I found a one year training course, on Salt Spring Island, that island we had missed and were told to go to, again and again, a not so secretive hit. And I got accepted. And I went back. And I’m going back.
The past few days, I have met three very different men, in very different settings, all feeling a pull to talk to me about the subconscious, intuitive art, timelines and spirit guides, chakras and spirituality. They are signs and confirmations I’m on the right path. And I find myself pondering, if I’m a sign for them too, a redirection, a hint, a pebble on the treasure hunt of our destinies. The roles are reversed, now that I’m open, now that I’m ready to talk openly about it all, now that I don’t resist so much the invisible realms. I can be the “priestess” of those stories.
The calling is strong. The resistance diminishes. Like a scale balancing forward to destiny. It took me all my life to get there, to stop resisting and finally dive in. There is nothing wrong with that time. And feeling the resistance slowly disappearing into the background of myself is a balm to my soul.
And yet, I still resist. A few months ago, I almost didn’t show up to the first weekend of shamanic practitioner training. I was already there, on the other side of the world, I had taken flights and ferries and, on the doorway of the island, on the portal of my soul, I wanted to run in the opposite direction and find a way back to my safe and hidden cocoon. This time again, the resistance is there, so tiny it almost tickles me, but it’s not prevalent. It pokes at me and reminds me to stay humble, to be present, to keep my discernment and rational mind running too. But the calling is stronger. And I’m ecstatic to have made it to this side of my timeline, of the scale, where I trust myself and life so much, that I choose the calling over the resistance. Again and again.
Have you ever felt a calling so strong that you couldn’t deny it anymore? One that ran in the background of your mind and soul, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t let out? Are you resisting the exact thing that is meant to heal you and that will be your art and medicine? Will you follow your calling despite all your resisting?
I’m taking a ferry in a few hours and then I’m diving in again. Yes, I have fear and resistance. But I also have excitement, hope and wonder. Fox spirit has been guiding me and leading me back here, since the last day I left the island. A part of me, my dear mind, will always ask “Wtf are we doing here?!”. But in patience and presence, all answers are revealed.
Don’t resist, exist.