Life changes everything. When comfort turns to restlessness it can make you itch. Many of us simply scratch but in this personal memoir Kathy O'Dwyer recognized the itch for what it was, the need for a more fulfilling life. Shocking family and friends she abandons her comfortable Chicago lifestyle trading in her corporate high heels for a pair of steel toe shoes and work gloves to take on management of a small ranch and retreat center in the wilderness of Aravaipa Canyon in southern Arizona. Encounters with rattlesnakes, javelinas, scorpions and coatimundis are nothing compared to the challenge of isolation and loneliness. Following an unconventional path takes courage yet Kathy soon finds it is necessary to bring about intense transformation. She stumbles along the way, strays from the path yet ultimately sheds the skin of her old life and embraces a new beginning. Reconnecting with the Earth allows her to discover her soul's purpose and ultimate happiness. This work from the heart is shared through short stories and poetry during Kathy's two years living next to the singing waters of Aravaipa Canyon.

Breathing Blue

Giving my life to Spirit and Spirit to my lifeBy Kathleen ODwyer

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Kathleen O'Dwyer
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-3206-7

Chapter One

January 5, 2010 Touchdown

Silence. The only sound I hear is my fingers tapping the keyboard. Night falls swiftly in the canyon, much quicker than it does in the city. In fact night never truly overtakes the city. I used to think the city night sky was black but in truth it is always compromised by neon, street lights, headlights and brightly lit storefronts. So many times I walked the city streets at night and never once needed a flashlight to guide my way. Black as ink we are fond of saying, but here in the canyon night is black ink spilled on black paper. And it comes quick. As I sat down to write, I noticed a ghostly cottonwood tree outside the window, its bark luminous in the twilight. I typed a few sentences, looked again and the tree was gone, swallowed by the night.

No phone, no TV, and the internet crashed a moment ago. Charlie greeted me when I arrived and told me he and his wife haven't had TV since 2006. They live in the canyon and come around after each group to clean the ranch house. The gate was open when I arrived so I knew someone was around. I liked Charlie immediately. His long white hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. He had a beard to match and as we talked he preened, gathering his beard in one big hand and combing it straight down between his fingers.

"You got any questions?"

"What do I do with my trash?"

"Oh, don't leave anything outside or you'll get all kinds of visitors like skunks, raccoons, and javalinas. There were 'bout 20 javalinas here this morning. And awhile back I saw a bobcat on the steel bridge. Bighorn sheep come down the mountain and the other day I saw a peregrine falcon. Take care sticking your hand into anything. Snakes and scorpions you know. The pecan trees are pretty much done. Those javalinas love the pecans. See over there? The orange trees? The oranges are about ripe. Help yourself."

"I have some other things being shipped to me. My binoculars are in there. I wish I had packed them with this suitcase."

"Yep, binoculars are good to have. Hey! You have a cat. We've got a black and white too. And one little black and white kitten that came out of nowhere. A critter if you know what I mean." Charlie laughed and held his nose, indicating his critter was a skunk kitten. "That little one is eating out of my hand now and sitting in my lap if you can believe it. Prettiest thing ever."

I shook my head in amazement.

"Here's my number. If you need anything give me a call. I live right up the road and can help you out."

"Thanks so much. I feel much better knowing someone knows I'm here."

"David said you could take over for us if we need you to?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Okay, next time Jeau and I come to clean; we'll show you the ropes. Jeau is my wife, not J O but spelled J E A U, a funny way to spell it I know."

"That would be great. And if I could go with you to the gate so you could show me how to lock it and where the key is hidden, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure. Come on."

"I guess I better follow in my car."

"Yep, unless you want to walk through the creek. It's a bit frosty right now. When the creek is running, make sure you wait it out. It goes by fast and it's safer to wait it out then try something foolish."

To my untrained eye the creek seemed like it was moving along quickly right then but I didn't want to seem totally ignorant and ask what he meant by the creek running. I decided if the creek was moving as it was now, I was fine. If it got any higher, I'd sit it out and wait. Charlie sized me up right away as a city slicker and he was happy that he had been the first to meet me. David told me on the phone that the canyon rumor mill was humming about my arrival. Now Charlie had the scoop.

Charlie showed me the loose post on the gate, how to lock the gate and where to find the key. I thanked him for all his help and he drove off. Climbing back into the Explorer I turned around and went back to the singlewide. According to Southwest Airlines, the large suitcase I borrowed from my daughter Jillian weighed 70 lbs. It took quite a bit of effort to get it out of the car making me wish I had thought to enlist Charlie's help. Somehow I managed to drag it out of the Explorer plopping it down on the ground sending up a cloud of dust. As I brushed off the grit I noticed dust everywhere, inches of it. My shoes puffed with each step and a fine layer hemmed the bottom of my jeans.

My new living quarters were not pretty. In fact, when I pulled onto the ranch I drove right past the singlewide trailer mistaking it for a storage shed. I remembered a sandy colored trailer with a wide deck, but here it sat green in some spots, brown in others, as if an amateur Jackson Pollock decided to use up all the leftover paint. I was halfway down the lane when I realized that I had passed it. The wide deck wrapped around two sides with pecan tree trunks for posts and the steps were fashioned of pieces of irregularly shaped colored stone. I liked the steps and the deck but the horrendous paint job couldn't camouflage the dents in the siding or the broken window mended with silver duct tape. David, the owner of the ranch, told me that the keys were on a nail behind the electrical box. I found an old electrical pole on the east side and looked up and down that pole, running my hand over it but no keys. Shit. I had come so far.

Okay, don't panic. They must be here somewhere. Rereading my notes I knew I had it right. They must be there. I walked back to the pole and repeated the process but still no keys and Charlie was gone. I looked overhead and noticed wires running from the back. Following the wires brought me to another pole ... with a nail ... with a key ring.

Relieved I walked up the stone steps to the door and unlocked it. More relief washed over me. The exterior may look careworn but the inside was cozy. The singlewide was only twelve feet wide. Thin laminate wood floor and paneling in the main room consisting of kitchen, dining and living space which was nicely furnished. A fireplace sat in one corner between sliding glass doors and a white wall with a small entertainment unit. Two beige loveseats, one solid and one lightly striped, anchored the living area. A wooden rocking chair with green cushions sat in a corner. The light oak kitchen table, inset with white tiles, edged up against the kitchen window with two matching chairs per side. The kitchen had all the amenities: double sink, large refrigerator, disposal, dishwasher, microwave, coffeemaker, toaster, even a coffee grinder. I had picked up groceries on my way but the kitchen was already well stocked. I had to make space for my food.

David told me to take the large bedroom located on the west end of the trailer. This, the master bedroom, included a private small toilet and a small closet for clothing. Another set of sliding glass doors opened up to the deck and the view of the creek. To my surprise outside on the deck was an outdoor shower boxed in with cedar planking that matched the deck floor. On the table in the living room David left me a note that said you had to let the water run for a long time to warm up the outdoor shower, but it is worth it! Oh yeah! This would be great!

Down the hall from the kitchen were a second bedroom / office, a full size bath, washer and dryer and at the far end a third bedroom with three bunk beds. This place could sleep seven people in a pinch! The furnishings were simple but comfortable. I felt at home.

A long day of travel and the swift fall of night prompted me to go to bed early. The down comforter and fluffy pillows lulled me to sleep right away but being in a new place put Kitty on high alert. I hadn't noticed any wind during the day but it was fierce at night. Wind was a new experience for Kitty. We rarely heard the wind inside the concrete bunker of the old city condo. But here, everything rattled: the trees, the leaves, the windows, the screens. Highly disturbed by the wind Kitty paced back and forth on the bed. I tried to calm her but gave up after awhile. She would get used to it eventually.

Mom is Right

I always do this. I rush headlong into things, have a moment of what- the-hell-was-I-thinking which always later turns into WOW. My first look at the singlewide was my what-the-hell moment. It lasted as long as it took me to walk up the steps and open the door.

Back in August the company I worked for was sold and I knew my position would be eliminated. There was a strong chance that the group would launch another start-up company and it was assumed that I would be part of it. I had worked with the same team of people for thirteen years and after starting two businesses we had the routine down cold. Everyone knew his or her role without being told. We could start a business in our sleep, the team was that good.

But for the past year I have been writing. Actually, I have been writing all my life, but in the last year I started writing what I wanted to write. I still wrote the corporate spin, the company newsletters, the organizational announcements, the presentations. At work I listened carefully to what everyone said and, when it came time for a written communication, the words were already in my head and I simply regurgitated what someone else had already said.

A year ago, I attended a retreat, Finding Your Inner Beauty Workshop, at Aravaipa Canyon Ranch. Don't let the name fool you. No make-up and hair tricks, the focus of the workshop was to discover the beauty inside, our spiritual light. And boy-oh-boy was my life in need of repair. Successful professionally, personally I flopped around like a frog without hind legs. Divorced, both adult children out of the nest and living at opposite ends of the country, feeling like a personal failure, I embarked on a course of self improvement over the last five or six years. That's a long time but I figured after years of making a mess of things I'd be shoveling crap for quite awhile. I exercised until buff, spent a year studying to become a licensed massage therapist and followed up with certification as a Reiki Master. All this in addition to my corporate day job but there was still something missing. Still I had no voice. Smiling to myself now, I remembered my first encounter with Aravaipa.

I Am
By Kathy O'Dwyer

Sitting in the afternoon light
I can't remember who I am supposed to be.
Straddling two worlds, the physical and the mystic, lost
in the middle.
Dragonfly pays a visit, tickling my outstretched ankle.
Red as the autumn maple, translucent as the wind,
I admire his confidence and ask his direction.
As he flies away he reminds me
"Look up."
I am the sky in all its iterations.
Partly sunny, partly cloudy, you choose.
Yin and yang, welcoming and dangerous,
I am the calm before the storm.
I am fleeting like the sunset,
Look close to catch the subtlety of my colors.
Autumn gold dresses the forest and I notice
Fall creeps in from the ground up. It reminds me
"Look down."
I am grounded.
I am the tiny snake, yellow stripes skimming away from
my feet,
Hurrying to hide his emotions he reminds me of my
nature.
I am an interloper.
I am the car in the road disrupting the woodland quiet.
The pebble in nature's shoe, crushing the music of bird
song.
Bird reminds me
"Be still."
Dragonfly returns and lights upon my page.
He reads a word or two then flies off in disapproval.
He reminds me
I am not as good as I should be.
I want to be the forest, old growth giving way to new.
Self-nourishing, mossy, full of decay and mushrooms.
A breeding ground, an incubator for new and good.
There are no weeds in the forest but I,
I am overrun.

November 2008 The Beginning of a Journey

Sometimes at night in my dreams I can feel the cold clear water of Aravaipa Canyon rushing over my bare feet, soothing my soul and washing away my concerns. Located in the Arizona desert, it is a place of hard beauty, not apparent at first glance, but it creeps up on you in small ways. First you notice the river canyon that splits the soaring, striated red and tan cliffs, then the surprise of a tiny flower as you round a turn on the trail. Your senses sharpen as you take in the silvery halo of needles on the jumping cholla, the brilliance of the crystalline sapphire sky, the dusty faded reds, oranges and greens of the pebbles beneath your feet, and the praying mantis sitting patiently on a rock. It is a place of deep serenity and passionate emotions that overtakes your soul. Survival is difficult here but it is in that challenge that you find appreciation and gratitude for all that you are.

Our caravan of three cars threw up a cloud of reddish brown dust as we wound our way along the one lane road. We crossed the suspended bridge one car at a time only to find that the river wound around forcing us to drive down and through the water itself to enter the ranch. The water was low but we city slickers felt adventurous as our vehicles hit the water at high speed splashing it high like a child cannonballing into the pool.

The ranch house was large and we would live, cook, eat, pray, and play together from Thursday night through Sunday. Our mesa or altar was set in the middle of the great room adorned with roses, found objects and fetishes, a gathering place for us each morning and evening to share our thoughts. Afternoons were open to hiking, reflecting, reading, writing or whatever one chose to do. Our group numbered thirteen, a mix of eleven women and two men. I thought of the Thirteen Original Clan Mothers of Native American tradition, and despite the fact that we were not all women, I felt the number fortuitous.

That first evening, we gathered around the mesa, sharing our intent for the long weekend. When it was my turn, I stated what I had rehearsed in my mind all day.

"I am here to release the negativity, the things that no longer serve me so I can move forward."

Our facilitators, Diane and Cynthia, took turns probing. "What do you think you need to do while you are here?"

"I just intend to be open and aware of what is happening around me. In my heart I know that the Great Spirit has a path for me. I hope to gain some understanding."

Diane gently prodded. "You have many ancestors here with you. Do you know that?"

"Yes, I can feel them with me now."

"There is one in particular that you have not met before. She is a wise Native American woman and she has come at this time to help you."

"She is new to me. What is her name?"

"Ask her and she will tell you. Just know she is here to help you."

I fell silent and felt the presence of a kind and gentle spirit near my shoulder. My back was to the fireplace which had a buffalo skull hanging over the hearth.

Cindy leaned over to me and whispered "the eyes of the buffalo burned red while you were speaking. The buffalo is a sign of abundance and it is good."

I turned to look but the buffalo was quiet.

Melissa, Cindy and I shared a room on the second floor. Warm and welcoming I guessed Melissa to be in her thirties. She wore her blond hair short and seemed quick to laugh. Cindy, my shaman, was a mix of Native American and Celtic origins bringing together a rare combination of both traditions and a deep understanding of the Earth. Her flaming long red hair was usually braided and she glowed with a soft light from within.

Our room was the largest bedroom in the house with five beds, three queen size and two twin beds. Cindy and Melissa each chose a large bed but I selected a small one along the wall. They chided me, urging me to take the third big bed, but I felt drawn to the small one. It was all that I needed. Completing our private nightly rituals, we called good night to each other, giggling that we felt like the Waltons. "Good Night John-Boy!" we laughed and I felt so happy to be sharing a room with them.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Breathing Blueby Kathleen ODwyer Copyright © 2012 by Kathleen O'Dwyer. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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