Awakening 5 and a short, sharp jolt!

We’d enjoyed a lovely pre-birthday weekend with friends, camping and eating together and kayaking trip along the Wye. I was happy yet tired, and happy to get back to routine tomorrow, at my job in accounts.

My birthday’s in August, and I’ve spent many times away on the day, with my family as a kid, and later when I worked in a college. I didn’t mind working on my birthday this year, so was getting ready to go to work on that Monday morning.

But my partner said I wasn’t going in.

“What do you mean?!” I quizzed him, smiling but confused.

“We’re going out for the day, so you need to get some comfy clothes on and your walking boots.”

Awwwww, that's so thoughtful!

I had no idea where we were going, but continued to get ready and as we walked up the garden path together, I felt like I was wagging school.

“I told your boss, don’t worry - they know!” Jack said.

He’s such a sweety!

A beautiful drive through country lanes and as we start to slow down, I realise where we’re going.

Mid Wales Riding Stables. I read the sign and my stomach lurches.

Huh?

I LOVE horses, and used to spend the day at the local stables all through school.

This is weird. Why do I feel so weird?

I shrug it off and remember the lovely surprise as we drive up the bumpy gravel track at a snails pace.

I thank Jack for his lovely surprise and he tells us we’re going out for a whole day hack, with lunch in the middle.

Fuck. Oh God! I think inside.

I have no idea why I’m feeling so weird but I am, and haven’t got a clue what to do as we lead the horses out onto the yard. Hat, gloves, riding boots, we’re kitted out and getting ready to mount.

I look up at my steed, he’s enormous, easily 15 or 16 hands and probably the biggest horse I’d ever ridden! Yet here we are, and I’m feeling a complete block. I want to go home, but have no idea why, and can’t tell my lovely Jack who’s gone to all this trouble.

God! What do I do?!

I get up and settle in, and we’re off. Jack, me and our guide. An intimate ride, and we head towards the hills through a small lane behind the farm.

Soon we’re trekking higher and higher and the views are spectacular, and at last we’re on open moorland, with miles around us of open land. It’s beautiful, yet I’m feeling weird and still don’t understand.

“Would you like to try a canter?”, our guide asks and I know I can do this, so show my inner feelings. We move off together and canter a little way until we naturally come back to trot.

The horses seem happy to walk gently, and I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I’d lost my stirrup earlier, something I’d rarely encountered and was still feeling weird so I was happy to take a slower pace and enjoy the scenery.

A few hours must have passed and we came down from the mountains and into a small village. We tied our horses by the side of a pub and went in to order our food.

Glad to be warmed by the heat of the open fire, I wondered if I could be picked up, rather than ridging home.

What the fuck!?

I had no idea where the thought came from, and ignored it. We ordered food and enjoyed a hearty pub lunch before it was time to go back into the world and mount our horses.

I’m breathing deeply and staying with the task in hand, but at the back of my mind I’m replaying a truck picking me up and another riding coming to bring the horse back home.

I stifle my thoughts and get up to the great height, sitting on the back of this lovely animal. I love the smell of horses and the connection you feel when you’re with them, so let these memories ease my mind as we make our way back to the lane home.

Some time passes and all is well, we’re walking slowly and I enjoy my hips rolling back and fore in time with the gait of my mount. The weather’s stayed dry and we’re enjoying looking out over the hills once again and soon, we’re nearly home.

“Do you want another canter before we’re home?” our guide asks.

Uh-uh, no way!

But I don’t speak up, a habit I’d carry for years to come.

It’ll be fine, I tell myself as the horses ears prick up, knowing they’re on their way home.

“Just remember to stay in the order we’re in, go single file and don’t let them bolt,” we’re advised.

But it’s too late. The horses know this stretch brings them home. They pick up speed and before long, Jack and I are neck and neck and the horses are cantering…

Soon they’re galloping, and I’ve never done this before. I’m trying to sit into the stride but it’s not the same as cantering.

I loose my stirrup and I’m bouncing all over the place, wind in my face and panic rising.

Fuck it, I think.

Fuck this!

I’m scared of getting dragged along. So made a decision.

I jumped.

Of course you do that!

I’m rolling on the ground and I know I’m not paralysed. I must be in shock because I can’t feel a thing, I just know I can feel my feet and I’m wriggling around trying to click something back in to place.

And then I realise, it’s not working. Something is wrong.

“I’m ok, I’m ok!” I yell to Jack, trying to reassure him, another habit I realise in later years. Reassuring him when I’m the one in pain!

I roll back and rest, looking up at the sky.

You fuckers! I say with a grin.

This feels like an intervention from above: I have to stop messing around and get on with my life.

I don’t know what it looks like, but I can’t stay in this job that bores me to tears. It’s safe, but confining and I have to get on with my life.

I could have died in this accident.

I could have been paralysed!

But I’m not.

That has to mean something.

They bring a 4x4 and get me into the seat and I smoke a rollie, determined to beat the pain I know that’s coming.

I’m breathing like a good-un, remembering my yoga breathing and calm myself down, telling them it’s ok, we don’t need an ambulance, we’ll go to the hospital in the van Jack drives.

I’m smoking again and stay in the van while Jack enquires in the tiny hospital whether we can come in. We’re sent to the bigger town with an A&E and I must have blanked out during the trip as I couldn’t remember a thing until we get there and I’m laying on a bed unable to move any more.

Hours later and a doctor comes in. “Can’t you stand up at all?” he asks, doubting my pain.

I know I’m not paralysed but not one part of my body wants to move. Staying still felt like the only thing to do.

He goes away again and Jack gets a takeaway for something warm to eat. We sit in shocked silence as the day sinks in and begin to soften, grounding through the food we’re eating.

“Wowsa, that was a day!” I laugh, smiling at Jack. He’s such a sweet guy and I’m so grateful he’s there.

I must have passed out and wake the next day in a ward. I don’t remember them moving me and I must have had pain killers as I felt drowsy and weird. I tried to move but felt feint and something in me still told me to stop.

They didn’t like that and asked me questions, querying the X-ray results and why my urine had been tested for blood.

I couldn’t believe their attitude! I’d fallen off a horse and know it can be fatal, or cause spinal issues in the least, and they’re looking at me like I’m making it up.

At last, they send me for a scan and discover I’ve fractured my sacrum.

There we are then. Now I know why something in me told me not to move!

Fuckers!

What is it with male doctors thinking they know more than I do about me and my body!

I laugh though, as this is another moment of awakening. A kick up the butt from Spirit and as I lay on my back barely able to move, I look out of the window to the blue sky and laugh again.

A nurse comes to help me pee, and asks why I’m so happy.

“I didn’t get sectioned!” I quip, and she looks confused but I don’t care. I know what I mean.

This moment was a message, and release, an invitation for change and the seeds were sown.

Somehow, I needed to get aligned to my soul and I… and | needed to do it soon.

I could have died but I didn’t and I needed to grab life by the horns!

Changes and Travel

In the years to follow, I started meditating daily, upped my yoga practise, looked into traveling and booked to finish my massage course.

Jack and I parted for 6 months, and during that time I gained more clarity and stopped eating meat and stopped smoking. I was listening to my soul and it felt good, and later in the year we met up again.

I missed him: I missed his kindness and company and I think he missed me too. We connected again and we talked about traveling in the van as we’d dreamed of before.

It seemed more real now, more possible and we chatted again and again, checking in whether it was the right decision to come together again.

We decided that we trusted each other and cared for each other, and whether or not we’d make it forever, we felt right to come back together and travel and started hatching our plan.

The next year, we bought a bigger van and lived in our first converted one, quit our jobs and started our 18 month journey of van-life. Little did I know our trip to Portugal would plant the seeds of the next 8 years of my life….

Awakening to our truth doesn’t need to be bumpy or challenging, but often times we don’t listen to our intuition and the nudges get stronger.

My first awakenings seemed huge to me, information flowing forth, like I’d accesses the mind of God, and it feel so good. Yet I didn’t know how to tune in and ask for specific guidance for my life path. During the trip to Portugal however, I started asking for things: more spiritual people, more connection, more spiritual guidance, and it came to me.

We weaved our way from the south coast, through the interior and up towards the Serra De Estrella, the mountain of the stars. Here, there were many spiritual people offering retreats and a growing community of support and activity. Here, there were huge crystal clusters, anchors of the light and portals from Atlantean times.

Here, people were gathering, co-creating the new earth, and I wanted to be part of it, so I returned to the lands where I felt so at home over the next few years, this time without Jack. Little did I realise the lands weren’t to be my permanent home, I was instead collecting soul parts, unwinding soul contracts and learning a great deal of lessons before I returned to Wales in 2022 to start a new life.

If you’d like to share you story, please do reach out using my contact me page, or reach out for support through coaching or healing as it’s my joy to assist others in creating their soul-led life.

These times are immense and intense, our inner and outer world changing daily, and we’re being called to action, to be the change we’re waiting for so we can co-create the new earth.

Will you join me?

With so much love and so many blessings,

Caroline Mary x