Love letter to Cumberland

Cumberland,

How do I even begin to express my love for you? By dancing in your streets, hugging all your people, writing you a love letter? I didn't know which one to choose, so I decided to do it all. I left you this morning, after four months of bliss and sunshine. The winter months made me doubt my love for you, but that's a personal thing. It's not you, it's me. I'm a summer child and you definitely brought the child out in me these past months. Running around the forest, skinny dipping in the lake, digging in the dirt. 

Three seasons in four months, it felt like we were only together for five minutes when actually I lived a lifetime with you as my witness. I felt lost under all those layers of clothes, out of my element in the cold. You made me feel at home and lit the fire. I arrived by myself and I left with a family. Being part of a community is something I longed for dearly, and you welcomed me with open arms. My search for work got answered by four jobs. I got to write! For a living! And meet the most amazing people, collect their stories and be a sister in the Cumberland family. A wild woman in a bunch of even wilder women. A travelling spirit finding a place to rest. 

I fell in love and made dear friends. I'm leaving with a heart overflowing with love. My creative spark is alight, leaving books of poetry in island houses. The mountains cradle my thoughts. The trees clear my mind of any worries. The ocean's salty water attracts me every time, clothes off in a heart beat. Waves spit me back out on the beach, making me a better person. It's the combination of all of this, that makes me feel so good. But it's the people that make it a home. A place filled with love. A valley full of memories, I take them with me wherever I go.

And I will always come back.

Love,

Joke

Cougar tales

Where do I begin? As soon as my work visa expired, adventures started happening for real. No more work means all time to play. One big long holiday! Until the money runs out. Then it's back to business. But for now: I'm on this island in Canada, where life is o so different from homeland Belgium. There are mountains and road trips and don't get me started on the wildlife. I have so many wild stories my fingers can't keep up with my brain. I want to tell them and I will tell them all, even if it takes the leftover ink from my pen and biting nails in excitement until there are none left.

First there was the late night visit of Canada's famous killer cat the cougar. I was home alone and woke up to an evil cat sound, followed by seven chickens going crazy, followed by silence. Then the footsteps on the deck. The scratching at the window. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. The lights were on. "Anyone here?" My heart was beating in my throat. I looked outside: full moon. That explained everything. "I'm probably just going crazy", I thought while slipping back under the blanket. I left all lights on. Just in case.

The window scratching started again and I grabbed my phone. Like a maniac I called every person in Cumberland I know. No one picked up. It's 2 am and people probably think I'm drunk calling them at this time. So I called everyone again. As the monster cat kept scratching the house, my friend Jen picked up the phone. Thank goodness. 

- Are you okay?

- A cougar just killed all the chickens and is now trying to scratch her way into the house.

- Where are you? 

- Hiding under a blanket. 

The angel Jen got into her clothes and hopped in her car at 2 am to rescue me from the cougar attack. I spent the rest of the night on her couch. Morning sun showed big dark bags under my eyes and memories of adrenaline rushing through my veins. Was it all just a dream? One of those vivid ones, that stick to your skin all day. I drove back to the house and it was not a pretty sight. Feathers all over the garden, one traumatized chicken standing in the middle of it. 

The poor chicken went on walkabout the next day. She never returned. I packed up my car and decided it was time for a road trip. The cougar has been back three times, hoping to scare more chickens and travellers.

Life right about now

Oh what a wonderful day! Waking up feeling free, birds singing it's time to shine. Morning coffee rituals with friends in the garden. Long lost catch ups of two days not seeing each other. When coworkers turn friends turn family, 24 hours feels like a long time without hugs. Cuddles, stories, laughter. We decide who will be the bun and who will be the hot dog in the middle. Two buns make a sandwich but they will feel the cold wind on their backs. It's best to be the dog, stay warm in winter time. All with a serious face. I nearly hit the floor laughing. Life is sweet, I think.

Last night's tipsy texting tells me summer is here. My heart skips a beat all the time. Caffeine keeps me going but everything happens with a shiver. I burnt my face in that first sun. In burnt the burn the next day and now I'm like a snake shedding skin but still smiling. Some days I wake up feeling like a wild woman, ready to take over the world. Dancing naked to yeasayer eating chocolates in the shower, all the good stuff all at the same time. Finding a forgotten taco like a treasure in the fridge. More coffee. More shivers. Wearing only glitters. Half a day off and I'm having a one woman party. I write, trying to pour my excitement for life into words. I kiss the paper, make ink stains on hands and cheeks.

Strawberries ripen just by looking at them. I close my eyes and smell memories of summer fields of joy, cheap champagne picnics, swaying hips on festival grounds. I taste the salt of your body while swimming in the ocean. Cold water is my morning alarm. Hair still wet, slamming car doors, almost late for work. I see myself in your sunglasses and smile every time you walk past the window. 

The rain makes life less heavy, the air is clean, plants are relieved and the pavement smokes. I love the smell of rain on a hot day. I get out until my feet are muddy and my legs can't dance anymore. I've got something for you, you say and push a piece of paper in my hands. 1920s typewriter ink, fingers moving fast, mistakes are made easily so you flipped the page and there it is. A poem named Joke the Wild. Words get blurry as my eyes do too. I smile and hug and hug some more. Summer rain makes for starry skies. Coming home tastes like your words on my lips. 

May Full Moon

It was too late to couch surf, so I crawled into my car. Taking off my muddy boots, trading wet clothes for a warm body. It's hard to keep your place tidy when your life is packed in a car. A pile of clothes would do for a blanket. As my head hit the pillow, I contemplated on going for a night walk to stop the spinning. I giggled to myself as I thought about life five minutes ago. Six women in a circle, jumping in puddles, howling like wolves to the full moon. Laughter, tears, honesty. Connection. It feels so good to let go. To find your tribe and be your true self.

Living in a small town knows no anonymity. You work together, dance, heal, support each other. Your boss is your neighbour and the lady at the cafe is your family. You're all in this together. Whatever touches the village, touches the community. When lines get blurry you realize how close you are. How much of the land is a part of me, how much I am a part of the community. Walking down the street and knowing every person is just something I have never experienced before. It makes me smile.

Especially because this town is made up of a bunch of wild women, who come into the bar with mud on their face after a bike ride. Who couldn't care less about make up and clothes. Who don't try to be someone they're not, just to please. The raw, the real, the wild. 

I fall asleep to the drumming of the rain on the roof. No curtains needed tonight, I watch the waterfalls running down the windows whenever I wake up. Sleep infused with dreams of community. Of being a part of something bigger. 

I had been clumsy all day. Dropping things, cheeks blushing bright red and falling in love with everyone. I blamed the full moon. Maybe it's just Cumberland.

Living on couches

Couch surfing is as simple as it is genius. You spend the night on someone's couch. The fun part is: you usually find yourself in a stranger's home, in a place you've never been before. Magic happens when you enter someone's home. You enter their lives and as you change into your PJ's you realise you are home. For one night you're living in someone else's house, being a part of a stranger's private life. Just like that. 

When people open up their doors, they open their hearts. It's incredible how generous and kind people are. You'll see when you try couch surfing yourself. I travelled around the world sleeping on stranger's sofas, floors, spare beds and I loved it. The night filled with stories, feeling the smooth transition of strangers turning into friends. Waking up and being confused for the first three seconds: where am I? Oh that's right, I'm in Simone's loft in Vienna. Or at Sue's farm in Tasmania. And you know you're in for an adventure.

Seeing the world through others' eyes is a very special thing. To be able to do this, you have to go deep. Superficial weather talk at the supermarket is not going to cut it. It won't open your eyes, stir up your brain, shake your soul. I want to be moved by stories. So I surf couches. I'm not in it for the free accommodation. I'm here to listen and learn. There is something vulnerable and loving about people opening their homes to strangers. It makes them share precious things. Like a home cooked meal, life stories and most important: time. Couch surfing forces you to connect. To spend time together, away from the digital world, living totally and completely in the now.

I missed it. Couch surfing has been a part of my travelling life for a long time, and after months of having a key to my own home, my feet started getting itchy. Not for faraway travels this time. For connection. For meeting people and sharing moments of truth. Get past the lines I throw at customer's faces: hi darling, how are you going? As a server, I hope you just say you're fine and order a burrito. As a human, I want to hear it all. The whole story. I want to sit down with you on your couch and listen and not once will we talk about the weather. 

So after three months of serving the community of Cumberland margaritas and beers, talking mostly about margaritas and beers, it is time to cut the crap and get to know each other. Hi, I'm Joke, I talk to strangers and collect stories. I traded my bed for couches, sleeping in a different home every night. Feeling like a traveller while working seven days a week at the same places. Getting out of the routine, into people's lives, one couch at a time.

Magical forest

Maple syrup to sweeten 

up the day

time changed and so did my mind.

Shifts in perception

following mornings spent 

in the forest

in the back yard 

of our house,

everyone's house.

The fire is on, warming our cold

feet after days of exploring

forest freedom

finding what we were

looking for all along.

Forest dwellers

adventures of full 

moon mountain walks

in the snow I'm covered 

by a blanket of warmth

keeping my inner fire alight

nothing can cool me down

the spark I have inside is

glowing all night

keeping the energy flowing

until the morning light.

Vancouver Island lovin'

It's been two months since I moved to Vancouver Island and I am feeling settled in. As if I've been here all along, like the trees in the magical forest of our backyard. I unpacked my backpack for the second time and surprised myself on how many items I have been gathering over the past months. Living in a house requires a certain dress code. It's all about house coats and funky aprons. So when the thrift store had a  50% sale, I went all out. 

With summer in mind, I found myself trying on tutus and wedding dresses. One shiny dress with pink bows and other hilarious ugliness made me fall in love. So my festival outfit is checked off my shopping list. While planning sunfilled adventures and road trips, I am working three jobs and exploring everything Cumberland has to offer. 

When I arrived here two months ago, people would ask me why I moved here. Did I have a plan? A job? Did I follow the love of my life to this tiny village on an island far away from home? I replied with a triple no and a smile, pointing out of the window, at the trees and mountains and ocean. THAT's why I moved here. Often the response was: "oh nice. But you do realise there are no jobs and single men here?" Smile on repeat and a little bit of a panic in my brain. I handed out resumes like a maniac, went to career fairs and checked craigslist every hour. No jobs. One month passed and as soon as the snow storms calmed down, I got a call for a job interview. And another one. And another! Three interviews lead to three jobs and I couldn't be more grateful to work for small, local businesses. 

I have never lived in a little community where everyone knows everyone. It feels good! It means you work with friends, live with friends, party with friends. Cumberland is a special place filled with wonderful people. Sunny mornings drinking coffee on the porch, yelling good morning to everyone walking by. Saturday night dancing to funky tunes and Sunday mimosas and live blues for brunch. Morning shimmy shakedown and dance hall classes. Late night writing. Icy cold lake skinny dipping. Snowy mountain adventures and forest missions. Ecstatic dancing and steam room chanting. All the goods to soothe my soul.

Oh, and the summer is already happening in my mind. My feet got ridiculously itchy last week and I daydreamt of road trips and camping under the stars. I started looking around for a vehicle. This morning I woke up and found my dream car. I bought it without blinking. I can't wait to move into my little house on wheels and take it for adventures. River baths, bonfire coffees, starry skies and endless journeys. Bring it on.