[Part 4 of 4] I had to let go…

A quick recap… because this is a long story!

1. In Part 1, I told you about “Dad Jobs” and how I learned to do things outside my comfort zone as I embarked on my new life out west with Sean.
2. In Part 2, we explored how Knowings push us to reach for our potential — so we can grow. 
3. And in Part 3, I explained that while my world was getting busier, Sean’s was slowing down and pointing us in the direction of Alaska.

Now, I’m going to skip the part where we move to Alaska, decide the Kenai Peninsula doesn’t have enough “winter,” explore land in the Brooks Range, and move to the arctic.


Some of you have heard that story in here or over here. 


Below, skiing to the land on a scouting mission before we dove into the arctic, head first:

Flash forward to 2021: We have a blossoming wilderness lodge called Arctic Hive. We’d hosted our first two REWild retreats that March. They were nothing short of incredible — for the guests, and for Sean and I.

And (because two things can be true at the same time) on the inside? I still just felt... busy.




I was still a fully vested Yoga Studio owner, and I was tired. Sean could see it, and told me time and time again that I should sell the studios to lighten the load — to which, I offered more excuses.

Finally, one day, out of sheer desperation, I made a deal with myself. I decided, just for a few minutes, I would allow myself to daydream about what life *might* look like if I didn’t own yoga studios.




As I loosened my mental reigns, Knowing flooded my senses like a spring rainstorm.




It was time.




I cried because I knew it was the truth. I’d been holding so tightly to a former version of myself — despite the (ironic) fact she no longer existed. Intentionally letting go started with my imagination, and ended after a long 18 month process when I sold the last studio.




This courageous chapter carved out space in my life that — for once — I didn’t rush to fill.




I could finally just be.

Four years later, this is what I’ve learned about Knowings:

• When we’re in tune, we hear them. (Birth)
  
• When we’re courageous, we act on them. (Life)
  
• When we’re able, we let go of them. (Death)
  

To experience and embrace a Knowing from conception, through its relevance, until its completion — and to celebrate all three parts as significant — is what I think it means to live a spiritual life.




And I know each time I courageously hear and step in a direction of Knowing, I earn a little more of my own trust. I learn, and I grow.




So when my Dad died this past March, I felt that same pattern of completion drawing near. I cried because I knew: It was time. Going through the rituals of his funeral after a decade of saying goodbye was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do.




Yet, Dad may not have witnessed Arctic Hive during his lifetime, but I know he’s seeing it now... with me, through my eyes.




He can see I’m capable of doing all the Dad Jobs on the list (and then some!):

He can see the commitment Sean and I have made to our dog team and dog mushing as a way of life.

He can see the life-changing experiences our guests have in the Brooks Range — and he can see how when guests are fully present, they can better hear their own heart’s Knowing, too.

So whether we’ll see you at a retreat this fall for Harvest of the Heart, for the Winter Solstice, or someday in the future (or not!), I’m grateful for this virtual time we’ve spent together this week!




Hug the ones you love today… and I wish you courage to take steps (even the baby ones!) toward your own Knowing.




Sending love,
Mollie