Traveling is the healthiest addiction. Every trip I take, and every new person I meet is a new adventure pulling me deeper into the love of the unknown. My heart hurts when I’m standing still for too long.
When I got melanoma skin cancer six years ago one of my doctors suggested that I make a travel bucket list. The last destination on my list was Iceland, so I decided to go to the land of my Viking ancestors.
Since this was a science expedition boat, I had to check-in, get a Covid test, go through all the safety regulations and get fitted for my winter gear, and report to the powers that be that Olga will be delayed. However, when I went to the meeting area and met the person in charge, I was told if Olga didn’t get on the ship at Reykjavik, where the ship was docked, then she wouldn’t be able to get on at all. Further, if I got on the ship without Olga, I would not be able to get off to meet her at any of our stops.
Because I am forgetting so many things from past trips; delicious meals, landscapes, conversations on balconies under the canopy of stars, insights, theater, scenes in distant cities, moments I swore I would remember forever, so many washed away like Etch A Sketch drawings. So while packing for this adventure I promised myself to have more of a balance in recalling the magic.
When arrived on a bright, freezing summer day in the capital city of Reykjavik, I discovered that there is nothing quite as humbling as standing on the land where my ancestors once lived. This reminded me that I am the result of a thousand sacrifices and of a thousand loves.
Each trip I take seems to be defined by a single moment, and those moments always involve a person. I randomly hired a driver who happened to be a man named Marius. He picked me up from the Reykjavik airport and showed me around while I waited on my fellow explorer and dear friend Olga to arrive.
There was kindness in Marius’s smile and gentleness. It was the smile of a man who laughed with ease. His stunning eyes were the blue color in the middle of a Bic lighter. He too came from Vikings and our day was spent walking through history.
Unfortunately, Olga ended up missing her connection in New York, due to a flight delay in Miami, which meant she would miss boarding the ship on the embarkment day. We both thought that this was no big deal and felt she could board at our first stop the following day.
Marius was carrying in my bag and overheard everything. I went into action calling the boat captain, the company, and our insurance provider. Two hours later, no one could help. Marius never left my side. As I bowed my head in defeat, knowing I wouldn’t get on the boat without Olga and knowing we would lose all the money we spent, Marius softly put his arms around me, bent down, and quietly said, “Let me see if I can help you.”
In less than five minutes he came back and told me that the company will make an exception and that Olga could join the boat from anywhere at any time. I don’t know whom Marius called or how he did it, but Olga happily arrived and boarded the ship the following day at our first stop.
I most likely will never see Marius again but his unselfish kindness will be a part of me forever. I realized in Iceland that sometimes miracles are good people with kind hearts. I also realized that it is time for me to make a new bucket list!
Have any Feng Shui questions? Feel free to contact me at michelle@michellecromer.com and sign up for your Power Color or visit me on Facebook at Michelle Cromer Feng Shui.
I have noticed as I age, western medicine doesn’t seem to be as effective. For whatever reason, after I hit 50 I began to get all of those dreaded side effects printed on the warning labels of all the medication I was taking. But after a severe allergic reaction during a trip to India, an Indian doctor treated me with aromatherapy. For over two hours he applied essential oils, which seemed at the time, completely far-fetched. The treatment was labor-intensive, appeared imprecise and low-tech. But the treatment worked. The doctor explained that essential oils are multi-dimensional, filled with homeostatic intelligence that works to restore the body to a state of healthy balance. When body conditions change, oils adapt, raising or lowering blood pressure as needed, stimulating or repressing enzyme activity as needed, energizing, or relaxing as needed. “Oils possess an intelligence that we can’t comprehend,” he said. “Nature, Mother Earth does not need to read a textbook.”
Rene Gatfosee, a French chemist, coined aromatherapy over a hundred years ago. He worked with volatile plant essential oils, developing fragrances for the perfume industry, until one day he had an explosion in his lab and was badly burned. He plunged his arm into the nearest vat of liquid, which happened to be lavender. To his amazement, the pain stopped immediately, and no blistering or scarring occurred. As a result, he changed his focus completely to the medicinal effects of these oils.
Utilizing the wisdom of plants and trees medicinally pre-dates written history. Early man, as a hunter-gatherer, must have sampled different plants to find out if they were edible and if so, what effects the plants had on the body. He would have learned quickly that some herbs bring on stupor, some enliven, others purge and of course, many nourish the body. A deep understanding and connection would have been formed between man and plant. As anyone who has lived close to the land soon learns, plants have a spirit of their own and can commune their intent if one is open enough to listen to their energetic frequency. In early times, man probably had a much keener awareness of his environment and worked more closely with the rhythms and vibrations of the earth. His sense of smell would be more honed, the odor entering the brain allowing him to intuit the efficacy of the plant by tuning into its vibration and sensing whether it would be a healthy fit for his body.
When they tell you to heal and move on, don’t listen. Healing from loss doesn’t look like healing from an injury. This was not a broken bone, these are pieces of our hearts, and now a piece of our heart is gone.