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. Continue Reading
“The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.” ~ Dorothy Parker
As I write a book about my travels and the journey towards that decision I’m writing this weekly journal alongside it.
I suppose it would be normal then that the themes will overlap here as I look to my daily life for examples of the ideas I’m thinking about and exploring in writing.
My life makes sense to me when I see it through a bunch of connected stories.
‘I’m bored’ whined Lucas yesterday. ‘That is so brilliant’ I tell him. ‘That means you need to go and make something or think about what you’d like learn about or play with. Ask yourself Louie what you want to make?’ I challenge him.
Around this time last year I watched a few insta friends as they took to the streets snapping photos for the @24hourproject.
Could I do that? No way. a. I would need to ask people if I could snap them (remember I am a shy introvert). And b. I’m a photo-taking hack, not a photographer.
Fast forward a year and a I’ve taken a whole lot of photos. I have built some confidence after helping Zoë with her One Girl fundraiser. That fundraiser showed me that one of the reasons I keep my life simple is so that I can jump on board when something I care about crosses my path.
So, when this year’s project came up and it turned out that I would be in Dublin on my own for the weekend and a little gentle encouragement from Rachael aka @thebowerbirdgirl (an actual real street photographer), I signed up.
It would have been easy to say no but what an adventure I would have missed out on. I’m not sure how it happened but I adopted the persona of Fran the street photographer. I actually thought I was one, maybe I really was.
Some time ago I decided to create a life that I didn’t need to holiday from.
The majority of my life has been lived in this way, moving, adventuring, trying new things.
It’s not that I can’t commit or that I don’t like to nest, I love both of those things. I’m just a mover.
When I was younger it was just me, and then just Greg and me. No one questions you when you’re young and moving. Everyone’s doing it.
I am also a minimalist. Again, I’ve always lived like this, wanting less, letting go, moving on from situations that don’t serve me well.
As we leave Ireland after 3 months of slow, quiet living to hit the road in our 6 berth camper for the next 5 months I think it’s important to acknowledge that a trip like this and living like this isn’t something that you do overnight.
It’s also why this doesn’t feel like a holiday for me, it’s the next life chapter.
This post uses photos from a recent camper trip to County Kerry, no doubt Ireland has a little of my heart. It’s a lyrical country with a language that sings and a landscape that touches your soul.
There’s a reason so many poets and writers come from Ireland. As Seamus Heaney said ‘it’s the thing that’s in the air and part of who we are’.
On this particular afternoon at the beginning of February I answered the call of the roaring wind.
I ran a little further into the rain to the top of the cliff and stood in it, head on. It was wild and revealingly thrilling.
An awakening that can only happen when there is solitude and space and an openness to feel.
We’d been here just over a month. The high of the newness was wearing off and a new phase, new feelings had started brewing.
Here on this cliff I knew I was me. A truth revealed. This life, this choice, being exposed in this unknown journey was far less scary than the idea of permanence, of what could have been.
How easily I could have slipped into the other life we had planned. The one we thought we wanted, the one that seemed ‘normal’, easier. Yet, for me, it wasn’t.
Something deep down was unleashed here on this cliff in this moment, something strong and powerful and raw.
The perfect prelude to a trip we would do later in the month into the wild west of Ireland.
Let me take you there. I’ll even share our first dad or in our case papa joke.
Oh Ireland, you are lovely as your seasons change.
February has breezed through (sometimes howled) and with it new learnings, adventures, family visits, a change of season and the arrival of ‘The Travelodge’.
In the background a little niggle, some uneasiness. Something is shifting, in part the season and definitely me. I’m changing, adjusting.
March is now upon us and the shift is slowly unfurling and we’re in Spring, full blown Spring.
A layer of clothing has been shed and we’re surrounded by daffodils and blossoms. The tiny buds are appearing on those big, strong, bare winter trees.
It’s been 4 week since we’ve left Australia and isn’t it amazing what can happen in 4 whole weeks, a complete lifestyle change. As the dust settles, and the honeymoon euphoria of moving overseas dials down a few notches, best I start thinking about this space and jot some things down. It can be all to tempting to just throw a picture up on Instagram but this is really my journey space.
I’ve started this post a number of times but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, a few false starts. I’ve never had a real plan for this or my previous blog, it’s always just come along with me on the ride. A space to debrief, mostly with myself and if holds meaning for others then that’s awesome.