There is no question that writing a weekly blog has been an incredible catalyst for me to explore aspects of myself that have long been neglected. Intimate relationships and sexuality are one of the areas I’ve shied away from the most.

When I was a young teenager I had a serious crush on a guy named Doug McMillan. His family had a place in Bamfield also, and one weekend we traveled with friends on a houseboat down the Alberni Canal. Linda and I were both expected in Bamfield that same day, but we agreed to play the “it’s too foggy to proceed safely” card and enjoyed a magical night, anchored in a harbour near Kildonan. I’ll never forget the phosphorescent outlines of our bodies as we swam naked in the ocean, enjoying the freedom of being young and carefree. We were in trouble on the other side, but it was worth it.

Doug and I went our separate ways but reconnected at his mother’s funeral the year I turned forty-eight. He wasn’t in good shape. Alcohol was his go-to and he’d clearly been imbibing, but the sweetness of his nature shone through. A few days later we were all having dinner at my brother Marc’s in Bamfield. It took about five minutes before I was sitting on his lap on the back porch, smoking Export A’s and drinking whiskey. I hadn’t smoked cigarettes for at least a year, prior to that.

I fell in love, hard and fast. It felt safe, being in the bosom of my family and in this place I knew so well. We walked the beaches and I relished Doug’s admiring glances as I navigated rocky outcrops and jumped logs. I felt beautiful, and so ME. It was short-lived, though—about six months in total. Alcoholism had a serious hold on him, and he had the irritating ability to disappear into the wilds of the Queen Charlottes, working at his job in the bush. After an especially painful episode, when all I wanted to do was find him and fix him, I realized that I needed some help. Completely and utterly spent, I swore off men altogether and began therapy in earnest that spring. I was ready at last to explore my own unavailability—the common denominator in a series of relationships with ‘unavailable men.’

In 2006 I returned to Bamfield. While there I had a painful rupture with my brother that has taken until now to begin to repair.

When I began my Year of the Child blog writing project last January, I reached out to my friend Pat, writer and editor extraordinaire, for help. She agreed and has been there for me with unfailing grace, encouragement, skill, and a touch of fierceness when required. What do you want? she asked me today!

I think the process of naming our desires is a big deal. In this 21 minute TEDx talk entitled Isolation Is The Dream-Killer, Not Your Attitude, the (somewhat rambling) presenter Barbara Sher says, You have to figure out what you want and then ask for help. And then, you have to let people help you…

My quest to discover what I love has been a focal point for many years. About as many years as I’d been estranged from my brother and absent from my birthplace. Returning to the west coast after all this time has had a profound effect on me. Not only am I completely in love with Pachena Bay, but I’ve discovered that my body comes ALIVE in nature. There is nothing like being naked, outside, in the moonlight to get the juices flowing!

The powerful confluence I experienced, of nature and sexuality, has ignited my desire to explore what relationship and community really mean to me. Barbara Sher suggests forming small groups of about six people that meet regularly to support one another to figure out what it is they REALLY want and then hold each other accountable for making it happen. The key is articulating both the WISH and the OBSTACLE to making our dreams a reality. We are problem-solving animals, she says, and our minds start working as soon as we hear a problem framed in this fashion. I’ll work up to that and keep you posted!

Are you able to articulate your wishes and the obstacles to making your dreams come true? Let me know, I’d love to hear!