The other evening, I had a really neat experience. I went across the road to check out the swamp that runs across the back of our property. The swamp is home to a family of beavers, hordes of painted turtles and at times a wide range of ducks and geese. I had been standing on the hill overlooking the swamp for several minutes when I heard a noise in the water. At first, I couldn’t see what it was, so I moved a few feet to my right and saw the source of the sound. It was a deer. It was slightly to my right, across the swamp, belly-deep in the water, feeding on the vegetation on the water’s surface. In the evening sunlight, the deer’s coat was crimson red. Beautiful! At some point, the deer realized I was there because it began looking in my direction. After a few minutes of checking me out, and perhaps being uncertain of what I was, the deer let out a couple of loud snorts. Actually, it was more like a blowing sound. Just then, a second deer started blowing. It was about 75 yards away to my left. Both deer eventually moved off into he bush, blowing as they went, leaving me alone with the swamp and a great wildlife memory.

Experiences like this was why I moved to Manitoulin Island in 2016 … away from my family. It was with the specific intention of recovering from Parkinson’s. My plan was to create my own private ashram where I could focus on recovery, and I believed that Manitoulin was the best place to do that.

According to ChatGPT, Manitoulin Island offers a unique blend of natural beauty, rich indigenous culture and outdoor activities, making it a special destination in Ontario, Canada. It is the world’s largest inland island, offering spectacular scenic views and plenty of wildlife, especially, whitetail deer. It is ideal for healing.

I many ways, I have created my own ashram. I have a path through the forest that substitutes as a labyrinth. I have a bench to sit on overlooking the swamp and a chair to sit on at the lake. Both spots are ideal for meditating and doing breathwork and energy healing. I can practice qigong in the garden at our house, or at the swamp or at the lake. I can power-walk everyday on a private, gravel road. I can kayak.

Despite all this, I have yet to accomplish my goal, and at times it has been frustrating … but I think I know why. There are two reasons. First, try as I might, I have not stopped worrying: mostly about being separated from my kids and grandchildren, but also about what is going on in our country and around the world. In the process, I have been sabotaging my own happiness, and my recovery. Second, and equally important, I have had much to learn.

I am far more knowledgeable about Parkinson’s … what causes it, what causes it to progress, how to slow the progression, and how to effectively use medications … than I was before I moved here:

1. I have learned about the neurology of PD: the parasympathetic nervous system, and neurotransmitters and hormones, like dopamine and cortisol;
2. I learned that I needed to change my personality from one that was uptight, hot-tempered, self-loathing and lacking in confidence, to one that is enthusiastic, self-loving, easy-going and grateful;
3. I have learned about divine birthright: that it is our divine birthright to live in excellent health and be loved;
4. I have learned about the importance of acceptance and trust;
5. I have also learned that I need to be all-in. That is to say, my heart has to be in it. I can’t have one foot in the healing world and one foot in the guilt-ridden, miss-my-family world.

So, from a learning viewpoint, this has been a successful endeavor. But here’s the thing, learning takes time … and so apparently does healing.

Perhaps, then, the most important thing I have learned is that I am not the one in charge of this mission, which means, I’m not the one running the clock. My healing will take place in divine time … when I’ve learned everything I need to learn. My role is to state my intention, and then, direct all my energy towards that intention.

Actually, when I think about it, I have some experience with intention. Long before I made the decision to move to Manitoulin, I decided that I wanted to retire to a place on the water, with privacy … and that’s what I have. I got exactly what I asked for. I didn’t ask for a place on the water, with privacy, close to my family. It seems, I left out a few important details.

I didn’t move to Manitoulin to worry. I moved here to enjoy life and recover. But here’s the thing: you can live in the most beautiful place on the planet; you can eat the healthiest foods; you can meditate and practice qigong; you can exercise every day; and you can take medication; but if you don’t stop worrying, and if you don’t learn to live in acceptance and trust, and if you don’t figure out how to love yourself, it will all be for not.

A couple of summers ago, I was observing a bald eagle soaring overhead, when a hummingbird zipped into our yard. It was a magical moment. If a loon had been calling out at that moment, it would have been the perfect avian trifecta. Something to look forward to … and another example of why I moved to Manitoulin.