follow me to the mountains’ rise & fall,
winds whisper silence to call
safe in the valley my feet stand,
vulnerable heart by his hand
digging hands deep to climb,
blind reaching ties that bind
to the solid strength of the rock,
cut by rivers soft clock
time, all things carried out to sea,
following the pilgrim soul in me
I came to find the sea, & I found a mountain…shadows thrown by the rise of the sun, cast down their dark summits, rivers lacerating the land, soft…green…protected in the valleys…& always turning towards the sea…
Where did I begin? Did i arise from the depths of the ocean, my body’s wave floating the currents, until the tide drifted me to where the land began? sand. this island’s glass softened: buffering my skin from the salt of the sea to the hard pebbles of reef to the slippery blades of dew…I find my feet & carry them all…with each step.
Or was I created from the unbounded heavens’ sky? clouds. rays of light shine beyond, this continent’s shelf hardened: strengthening my soul from the wind in my face to the rain, cold wet to the weight of the earth…gravity…I find my hands & carry them all…with each reach.
From the sea, I elevate…the wind rustling grass, the wind whistling echoes, it lets me know its presence. I pause at each landing, turning over my shoulder in gaze of my home…returning, eyes forward now to my mountain…back and forth, back and forth…I am now divided.
Two equal parts. the river bisects the valley. from the mountains it begins. & to the sea it ends.
Are we all this way? Two parts of night & day, rise & fall, courage & fear, strength & fragility? I let myself be.
After spending 10 weeks, every day in the garden, I let myself take a holiday. In love with what we have been creating here, I had been basking the garden with intense warmth, sunshine, rainfall & care to nourish it…but it was also due time to let it breathe…a dear friend showed up & we forged an adventure. There were so many places that I had been told about, my wandering spirit excited! And as much as I love living up here on the hill, by continuing to be at the mercy of others, there are times that I feel trapped…I take the weather as it comes & have learned to try let go of controlling all parts of my days…& to let others help to take care of me instead of being so stubbornly self-sufficient & independent.
The car jammed packed with boards, garden picnics, well water, books & cameras, I was ready to let the road & others cater to me for once! A delay, no keys in sight to go. After 2 hours of searching, I resolved that the hill just didn’t want to let me go, but pleaded for the freedom so desperately sought…then suddenly the universe delivered & i. broke. down…
all of that fatigue, frustration, loss, sadness, confusion & desperation finally escaped me…& a weakness left behind that dulled any motivation to move…my body needed rest.
& so for one week I became a fat, lazy tourist. We followed the Wild Atlantic Way north to Galway…suddenly overwhelmed in a city, masses of consumers & shops & signs…ooooh jeeeeeeesus! where am i so removed from the peace & solitude of the country?!? I found a moment of respite in a cathedral…& remembered my last days in Europe, wandering the streets alone seeking the chapels. I took to my knees & palms pressed, I prayed in the red & yellow light cast from the stain-glass windows.
Seeking Connemara, we turned off to the Inagh Valley for peace at last, immediately enchanted by tranquil lakes nestled into the hips of the mountains, despite the mounting winds. I drank 2 pints of Guinness to accompany an Independent Red Ale to compliment my soda bread, butter, salmon & mussels & roasted spuds. I followed it up with an Irish coffee & 3 scoops of honeycomb ice cream. The barkeep thought I was crazy. It encouraged me to chat up a fellow adventurer after my ears perked to hear an Irish accent relay the dinner menu in French…& to go to sleeeeeeeep.
Awake & re-energized! I walked the road alone, my favorite morning routine, & found even more beauty…all of my colors bridging the gaps! grey pebbled limestone tops across the silvery blue stillness…we climbed Diamond Hill & i seeked the silence as even footsteps were too loud to bear…even now I could not produce the words to master the beauty of Connemara so I will keep that silent for me.
We continued north to County Mayo, deep in the fjords & back to the sea of Silver Strand…picking blackberries to snack…it was a “drive-by fruiting”… & I was relieved that it was too windy to surf…my body still craved rest so I listened. Onto Westport, I swear I tried to do something for myself, but failing to find a pamper, I logged into work & a latte. The garden needed my attention, even 4 hours away. Grateful for such amazing hospitality, I tried to maintain my sunny disposition, but I was still tired…& tried. Energy levels don’t always match & I found myself being less patient & generous, and more self-serving than usual. I thought to myself, that it was “my time to be taken care of, dammit!” but kept in check by my perpetual optimism & gratitude for the moment generated. I found myself going back and forth, back and forth again…& saw the two sides of me & others.
I found balance the next morning by surprising an acquaintance for a surf at Aughris. These memories of the expressions of their faces for unexpected gifts of gratitude will always last!…& finally again I slowed down as we came to Strandhill, relived by the lack of good surf haha! & all senses with a hot seaweed spa bath & chorizo, prawn & carrot cake dinner at the acclaimed Shells Cafe that I knew from my own unexpected gift from home. Also relieved, we made a plan to come back to save a mission of the drive, now heading South, home to Clare.
With one more day’s destination to Kerry, after carrot cake for breakfast:) we laughed of the tropical paradise found! Low tide at Fermoyle Beach with miles & miles of empty white sands, bubbly white clouds & turquoise waters that continued along the coast of the Dingle Peninsula. Stopping at a craft brewery, we could’ve easily been home in Florida, in our shorts, tanks & surrounded by tourists: eeeek AMERICANS!!! Where are the palm trees?!?! oh yes, that’s Cork…with only knee high waves & clusters of bodies, I can’t believe that I passed up surfing again, despite the clean lines, as my body & mind said WALK, WALK, WALK away from the mayhem…I climbed the top of a dune & was afforded a panoramic view from supine in the warm sand to close my eyes…despite the beauty, I would’ve swam home to Clare if not for the temptation of beer, burger, chips, pizza & a chocolate biscuit cake for dinner with a full Irish breakfast to wake up to…
hahaha fat. lazy. tourist.
On the ferry crossing the Shannon, I could see the green hills of Clare & my energy now back on high! as I felt the pull of being back in the garden & excitedly made a plan to forage for seaweed, attaching a bag to a belt while swimming at Freagh, for the wild food cook-up. BIG smiles & hugs with new & familiar faces! I’ve never felt more at home with a community…continually generous & grateful for the environment we are creating. Also coming home to the sea, walking in the wild wind with a kindred & inspired, I thought much about the division between a “consumer” & a “giver” society…& made my own “comfortable” choice for the way in which I want to live…between the anonymity of the city, & the isolation of the countryside…between the excess of the mad flock of tourists, & the deficiencies of the solitarian…between the cockiness of the affirmed, & the insecurity of the anxious…between the loss of the continual giver, & the gain of the perpetual receiver…between the hardness of the mountain, & the softness of the sea…i find my balance & am grateful that I know my place in life & what brings me happiness…I may not have all of the things that I want for in life, but I have the mountains, & I have the sea…others aren’t always so fortunate to have come to that valley yet.
…i looked in the mirror today, laughing & smiling at my now more supple cheeks, rounded face…& thought: “LEXI! GET YOUR ASS BACK TO THE GARDEN!!!”
The Gratitude Leap 