This week I’ve been reading my early posts about Ireland and looking at the Instagram photos I posted back then that captured how Ireland felt for me as I begin to write about that time in my book.
It reads like a love affair.
An unexpected full blown love affair.
I was swept off my feet by the Emerald Isle.
I love it for what it was – a brief period in time in which I would loose myself to the mystery of the landscape, the elements and the people.
I don’t want to spend my life searching for that moment of unexpected promise again because it has passed.
Nor do I regret not settling there after our travels as I am sure a lot of people expected we would.
Ireland would share great wisdom and comfort with me but she was not meant to become my home.
I do want to surrender to the mystery again though.
I guess I’m writing this to wonder about Ireland, to put it out there to the universe, to open the channels.
In one very early post I found this:
‘Crazy wind swept trail running hair, stone walled country lanes, locals who say hello, cars that stop for runners to pass, and no shitty noise, eyes and ears happy, blood pumping, body will catch up, may have given a few fist pumps to the air.
Declutter the stuff sure but don’t forget to declutter the noise. The crappy conversations, the thing you said yes to when you meant no, the stuff that’s uninspiring, the shops, the over reliance on convenience and consumerism…then see what happens in the quiet.’
and later this:
‘Feeling the force and exhilaration of the wind, rain and solitude on a new path in a new country, that doesn’t scare me…not standing here exposed, that would scare me more. That’s my truth.’
and this to my kids:
‘There’s a lot you won’t know and your four walls won’t stay the same, but you will know wonder and adventure and you will be stronger and dreamier because of it, that I promise.’
Ireland taught me to stare in the face of the elements, to not be scared of the seasons, to respect them, to feel them, to trust that timing would always reveal itself and to seek peace in solitude and quiet.
Ireland reminded me that nature will give me the answers to the questions I didn’t even know I was asking – I just had to trust her.
Sitting here in the darkness of my farmers hours feels a little like that time. The world is quiet around me. I am in solitude and as the season changes I want to go with her.
The light is coming and soon it’ll be time to make breakfast for the 4 bears and today after I take those bears to school I will take a wander in nature in seek out the wind.
A picture story from a morning hike in Holland today with Ireland’s wisdom in my mind
As the light came in this morning I could hear the wind. I knew that was my call to seek out the elements. I hiked right into that roaring wind.
I turned left instead of right because I wanted to walk into the unexpected, the mystery and I happened upon some goats – goats, the very animals I’ve been missing from the mountains, just 1km or so from my home.
They are also on my mind as I plan my One Girl adventure hike along the Camino.
As the weather got shakier, I started to wonder about an ongoing niggle that I can’t quite put my finger on and it came to me out of the blue. I’m pushing myself creatively and feeling weird and vulnerable is normal when you put your work out there. It’s scary. I have to feel that if I want to make stuff and live in my heart space.
I kid you not – a flock of sparrows flew over me as soon as I said the above out loud reminding me to trust the timing. Right now is the time for writing and stepping up for One Girl. That’s enough. It’s all I can manage and it’s where my heart is telling me to linger (and hugging the 4 little people and not so little man). I need to say no to other things and tone down the noise from the channels that are distracting me. Peace and creative magic only come to me in the quiet space.
Just as there was a season for Ireland, there is a season for Holland. It may not be the same – but the wind will always steer me towards the truth.
As I walked down the street towards home there had been a shift, a gentle but distinctive shift – I think it’s called clarity.
Ireland – I look forward to escaping into the poetry that is you, a country that I was privileged to feel and love so deeply.