“From Here to There”

Blog – October 2024 –

Approximately 90 miles from Cuba, sits the tiny island of Key West. Key West is located on the Straits of Florida dividing the Atlantic Ocean to the east from the Gulf of Mexico to the west. It has it’s own “vibe” most definitely. An old historical island filled with repurposed, vintage cigar factories, restaurants and bars, shopping boutiques, art galleries, and a fair amount of legends’ and stories written about it in novels as well as the crusty authors who wrote and lived there. Probably a favorite stop for pirates in days gone by! I can’t forget to mention the iconic chickens who meander the streets inviting themselves in, just about everywhere. Bikes are big transportation downtown and I seem to remember them being parked throughout the tiny bustling city. Key West is a TRIP. It is also the “southern most point” of the continental United States and designated by a huge colorful landmark buoy, painted red, white and black. 

But, had I ever visited the Northern or most NW corner of the United States? Actually, No. I had seen Neah Bay on the map many times—but I didn’t ever remember venturing out to that tiny corner of the United States, which lies just outside the rugged terrain of Olympic National Park, of which I had hiked decades before and part of the ancient culture of the indigenous Makah Tribe.

It was an exceptionally beautiful fall day last Tuesday and I was inspired to drive the two plus hours west down Hwy 101 though the old logging and mill town of Port Angeles turning on to the windy state Hwy 112 towards Neah Bay. The road was not a fast drive, with many curves, rolling roads and hairpin turns. An old wagon road beginning back in the 1920’s had obviously been repaired many times over its existence and was still undergoing repairs today. There were signs warning of speed, slides, ice, and wildlife crossing, which is no joke up here. In the month since I arrived, I have witnessed two deer accidents—one by proxy—and one on my way to Neah Bay. I observed a guy loading a freshly hit dear into the back of his pickup. I guess in some places now, a “lead” Elk wears a collar and trigger’s flashing lights to warn drivers of the crossing herd. But, I digress . . . 

The scenic byway looks across the rough and blustery Straits of Juan de Fuca, much of the time, towards Vancouver Island, Canada. Along the drive you pass areas that have been completely logged out, rural “homesteads”, foothills, meadows/valleys, numerous rivers, campgrounds and beaches. The masculine feel of the Pacific Ocean and coast is never far away—and the coolness of the fog, mist and temperature looms as the sun tries hard to break its way onto the road through old growth forests and deciduous trees along the highway. At certain points the rainforest’s continual wetness is clearly visible as many of the trees and stumps have a variety of mosses and lichens growing from their branches and bark giving the whole scene a “Harry Potter” feel. The Olympic National Park’s temperate rainforest and ecosystem is a fascinating study all by itself, I thought to myself.

I had diligently packed a picnic lunch and remembered to bring it with me but as I drove into the small village of the Neah Bay and the tribal lands of the Makah people around lunch time, a banner announcing “FRESH FISH & CHIPS” caught my attention. My car as if on autopilot pulled into the deserted parking lot in front of the industrious looking fishing marina and next to the makeshift restaurant. This marina was not one of luxury yachts as I had observed in Ft. Lauderdale, but working fishing vessels of every size and color. The village itself, population 935 as of the 2020 census, was of a hard-working folk, unadorned, and hamlet subject to the brutal rain and winds of the Pacific Ocean coming from the west.  Neah Bay is simple, basic and modest with its array of pick-up trucks, crab pots and wandering but friendly dogs. I shared a couple pieces of beef jerky with one because she was soooo sweet!

You know some things you just can’t make up! While eating my utterly fresh and delicious lunch looking out towards the marina, another couple had stopped for their lunch as well. A conversation of small talk led to the discovery that Tom’s family grew up in the same area as I had, attended the University of Washington also and knew my sister, Caryl. What are the chances? He is a photographer now, his wife is a graphic designer and they live in Prague. Yes, that Prague—the capital of the Czech Republic! They were visiting family here. (smile)

Time began to move fast and I needed to be back to Sequim for an early dinner. Cape Flattery—a couple windy miles further up the road and a mile, and a half hike would put me to the edge of the United States. Or I could visit the Makah Cultural and Research Center Museum of the Makah Indian Nation. I chose the museum. 

I had been on a hunt for what the Indigenous people knew about “history before history”. I paid the $8.00 entrance fee and started the tour. Looking at the some of the 55,000 artifacts unearthed in the 1969-1970 archeological dig that had revealed itself during a fierce storm the winter before and reading placards along the way. It became evident that this poor village of Ozette (15 miles to the south) which was buried in a mudslide around 1700 had a hard existence but deep reverence for the natural world along with their strong spiritual beliefs. They lived at one with both the sea and mother nature. 

The exhibits talked about the seals and marine life—the fish—the salmon, the whales, wild berries and various plants that were used for smoking and cooking. Rocks were made into tools. So were the teeth of otters. A special dog-hair was woven into blankets. They made wooden storage boxes out of cedar, wove baskets out of cattail reeds and used big cedar canoes for their fishing expeditions. The museum even included a replica of a long-house where families lived and escaped the harsh weather. Grandmothers did most of the cooking. Seagull eggs were a favorite and staple. And the tribe’s name translates to “People who live by the rocks and seagulls.” Their tribal lands were carved up when Canada and the U.S., two governments, laid down their boundaries without consideration to the Makah People.

Looking at the books for sale in the gift store, a Makah elder spoke quietly to me. She said, “I don’t want to startle you.” I turned, honestly smiling, admitting I was so focused on the bookshelves, I hadn’t even noticed her sitting quietly on a bench. We chatted. She said, “It’s too bad we don’t have time for a cup of coffee.” I agreed. “I have to go and do this next tour group, they are waiting for me.” 

She gave me her email. I wish to remain in touch.

From Here to There . . . very different cultures, environments and points on the map. However, when we realize we are all one family, there will be peace. 

It is my hope. 

I will see this in my lifetime. 

I hope it is your dream, too.

And so it is.

About Cathrine Silver

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP, is a Shaman, Certified Holistic Health Counselor, and intuitive in private practice in Lauderdale by the Sea, Florida. She works collaboratively with clients on their desires regarding disease through a process called biological decoding. She writes about relationships, spirituality, and loss and helps others through theirs.  Suffering through her own loss in 2005, Cathrine motivates and empowers others to be the heroes in their own lives, becoming fully responsible for their own happiness, joy and well-being.

Cathrine holds a degree in Speech Communication from the University of Washington, is a graduate of the Institute for Integrative Nutrition and holds certifications in Reiki, Matrix Energetics, Hypnosis, Biological Decoding and Grief Counseling and is a Shamanic practitioner.  She is the author of the book, Riding the Light Beam: How Any Woman Can Find the Hero Inside.

www.Cathrinesilver.com (Website)

www.cathysilver.me (Blog)

cathysilverhealth@gmail.com (email)

Cathy Silver Holistic Healing (Facebook)

Cathy Silver, HC@CSilverWellness (Twitter)

Cathrine Silver (LinkedIn) 

Decoding Our Lives Podcast – Pending

A SHOUT OUT TO TRUCKERS 📣 📣 📣

I don’t know if 18 wheelers and long distance carriers still have handles. I don’t know much about the whole industry, actually, but I do know that when I cross the country there are hundreds—thousands on the back roadways—freeways—or state highways. They also park in rest areas and truck parking—so many you can’t count as you pass by. I know that driving can’t be an easy lifestyle or way to make a living ’cause when you ain’t drivin’—you ain’t gettin’ paid.

It seemed there were more on the road that I can remember as I made this last cross-country trip. The companies are too numerous to recall—except for maybe the major lines. It really doesn’t matter. There are a hell-of-a-lot of independent drivers, too. Each truck in someway seems to carry the personality or energy of the driver inside. Now a days—I even see women behind the wheel. I’m sure there have always been a few, but it was definitely a man’s world. I have observed what appears to be husband and wife also. That makes me smile.

When I fill up with gas, I like an easy on-and-off. It cuts the time of my stop, not getting snarled in local traffic. When you’re doing 500-700 miles a day—sometimes more—minutes count. I mention this, because “Loves” is one stop that seems to innately understand and have placed their stations outside the city limits both for autos and trucks. Land was probably less expensive, too.  I’m sure I’m not alone, because most of the time they are pretty busy with the hustle and bustle of road warriors. LOL Time is not necessarily money in my case, it’s more like, “How tired am I going to be when I stop for the night?”

What I hear over the loud speaker is, “Customer 74, shower #5 is ready for you.” I can’t imagine taking a shower in a very nice gas station—but at the end of the day—a gas station. To their credit, the restrooms have always been clean. Thank you! It’s a tough job.

The trucks I pass and those that pass me, are painted now in beautiful scarlet reds, parakeet greens—and, cobalt blues. A few oriole yellow, tiger orange or the grape, violet or lilac purple. The major lines, pretty much all have their logos and graphics which carry the basic black, white and red—yellow and green colors. 

You’ve probable seen them a million times—and not given it a second thought. I know they all mean something—and it really doesn’t matter. I also know the history of organized crime behind this industry—but those are the boys at the top pulling the strings—and I would dare to guess not the ones behind the wheel making sure we have groceries in our cities and therefore in our homes to feed our families. This is a network that is vast and almost unfathomable. Everything ultimately seems to come by truck. I read a few years back that our roadways handle more than 2 million trucks on the road at any one time. 

In this world of chaos, the truckers stand for something. Certainly the Canadian truckers did. They took a stand and were penalized severely for standing up to tyranny. They warned us to be careful of governments selling CBDC’s and how quickly those who control the electronic world of bank accounts can freeze our own when we stand up for ourselves against the elite oligarchs. On a side note, don’t fall for the “safe and convenient narrative”.  Just saying. That’s something that can’t be lost on us. We also must read between the lines. We’re only a few feet away from the same fate. I could take a deep dive into many areas of our system today which need revamping. I see the corruption hanging on for life—but today—I want to extend my gratitude for the hours and dangers and sacrifices that truckers make to be sure the goods and services we all need are delivered in a timely fashion—no matter what the weather and political climate throws their direction. 

If you know or have a chat with a local driver, it might be nice to acknowledge his commitment for really a thankless job. Here’s a shout out to the millions of truck drivers who spend their days and nights on the asphalt highways crisscrossing America. They are really the modern-day cowboys. Thank you!

About Cathrine Silver

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP, is a Shaman, Certified Holistic Health Counselor, and intuitive in private practice in Lauderdale by the Sea, Florida. She works collaboratively with clients on their desires regarding disease through a process called biological decoding. She writes about relationships, spirituality, and loss and help others through theirs.  Suffering through her own loss in 2005, Cathrine motivates and empowers others to be the heroes in their own lives, becoming fully responsible for their own happiness, joy and well-being.

Cathrine holds a degree in Speech Communication from the University of Washington, is a graduate of the Institute for Integrative Nutrition and holds certifications in Reiki, Matrix Energetics, Hypnosis, Biological Decoding and Grief Counseling and is a Shamanic practitioner.  She is the author of the book, Riding the Light Beam: How Any Woman Can Find the Hero Inside.

www.Cathrinesilver.com (Website)

www.cathysilver.me (Blog)

cathysilverhealth@gmail.com (email)

Cathy Silver Holistic Healing (Facebook)

Cathy Silver, HC@CSilverWellness (Twitter)

Cathrine Silver (LinkedIn) 

Decoding Our Lives Podcast – Pending