Revelations

I have a final ramble around the city, staying within the confines of the old section which is surprisingly large and complex. I thought I’d pretty much seen all of the historic town but continue to find myself on previously undiscovered lane ways and narrow roads. My bag is chocker with rosary beads (the office gang will be so pleased – much more useful than chocolate!) and some really funky silver jewellery (for me, not them!) My kindle is about to die which is a total pain and other than ordering food and (lots of) drink, I haven’t had a single conversation with a soul since the others left.  I didn’t even talk to the kids last night because of various training commitments (theirs not mine. Mine are definitely over for now in spite of what Miriam may say!).

I recall my first meditation course at the Sanctuary in Dublin, with Sr. Stan. I had booked and paid but hadn’t had time to read the information about the course so was surprised to be informed when I arrived that the day would be conducted in total silence. A whole day of no talking? None whatsoever? Wow, the relief, the absolute pleasure at knowing that not only would there be no pressure to chat to people at break time, no sense of having to make contacts and hand out business cards, to check in with people and make sure no one feels lonely or left out; that actually none of that stuff was allowed, it would be frowned upon, it would break the rules. I was astonished at the depth of relief I felt and when I went to Dzochen Beara in West Cork a year later, I again embraced the opportunity for silence and spent four days in splendid isolation.

And here I am with more time for reflection, as I meander the old town, stopping for the occasional coffee or beer, and delving into my current murder mystery on the soon-to-expire kindle.

There are a number of things which have become patently obvious to me over the last number of days, such as

–  every incline is followed by a decline;

– Vaseline really does prevent foot blisters (thanks for the tip june meehan);

– wherever you go, you will meet yourself there so make peace with yourself;

– walking with Miriam is like travelling with a recently toilet trained toddler – within five minutes of leaving a cafe, you can be guaranteed she will be looking for the loo;

– it is possible to walk 25 km plus per day and still put on weight;

– putting damp clothes back on is worse than not taking them off in the first place;

– I like Gilbert O’Sullivan;

– letting go of the past is difficult but it’s necessary to make room for the new stuff;

– not even the rain lasts for ever;.

No doubt there are lots of other lessons and insights to be extracted from this journey and hopefully I will remain open to recognising and acting on them. I am put in mind of the blog I wrote for the Niall Mellon Township Trust when I joined the building blitz a few years ago. Taking time out to reflect, to ponder the big picture, to regain some perspective on life, is an incredibly valuable thing to do. Weeks like this last one, or my experience in Cape Town, remind me of how many positive things I have in my life; help me to shed some of the worry and stress about stuff that really doesn’t matter; affirm for me that I’m doing OK and have much to be proud of, and somehow enables me to shrug off some of the negative feelings which I can find so familiar yet are so unhealthy.  Returning to the real world; the challenges of juggling a busy life and competing demands; reminders of the past which I’m still moving on from and the future which has been so unutterably changed, all of these are in danger of undoing my current state of mind, my contentment and sense of calm.   The real trick now is to navigate the rocky journey ahead, with it’s as yet unknown hills and valleys, sun and shade, quiet moments and times of hilarity, and to do so whilst sustaining and indeed nurturing the positive feelings which have evolved and developed.

The future may no longer be as I once expected but it still contains many reliable, positive elements.  Without uncertainty there would be no adventure; with only repetition there would be no discovery. And so I will attempt to embrace it all, and remember that I’m a survivor. And that there are always people standing by, willing to offer a helping hand. I just have to ask.