Unama’ki ~ Land of Fog ~ it certainly feels like we have spent a lot of time travelling in such conditions over the past two years. Unable to discern what lies ahead. You have an idea of where you are going. You are familiar with the terrain you are in, and how you got here, but visibility, is only so far. You can easily get disoriented without the familiar landmarks that help distinguish where you are and in which direction you should strike out to get where you are trying to go. The usually visible and ever-changing sky, distant hills, or birds flying by aren’t available to distract or inspire you.
It was a foggy morning like this, when I first arrived in Cape Breton in 2010. It was mystical then, and ever since, the Mi’kmaq name for this magical island recalls to mind moments surrounded by the mist, considering this experience I am having here.
When the fog hides the world from view, I have the inclination to embrace the stillness it creates. The constriction of sight, the dampening of sound, and the grey emptiness of the fog, has the effect of opening and quieting the mind for me. I can feel my heart and spirit in that stillness, just being.
It’s okay to not have a plan. To not be going anywhere or aspiring to do anything grand. To be in Cape Breton, maybe finding your way, maybe just checking in with yourself, maybe just breathing and finding a sense of calm and connection.
I have so many dreams, of what I could do here
in Cape Breton.
In, Unima’ki, the land of fog,
I am just here,