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.