Picos

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The mountains climb up

Unexpected grey jagged edges

Jagged little pill in my ear

Swallows diving, dancing

The gruff tanned Spaniards weary eyes

Barbers cut throat razors

A distant memory elsewhere

 

My heart heals

The hole dissipates

In the trickles of water

The giggles of young women

And limitless fresh air

 

The doe eyed cows

The bright greetings of old friends in local cafe bars

Nursing small coffees over cards

Giggles over bad photos

Life returns on

And I return home

A little less damaged, a little more whole

New World

Clouds are lined with pink

Hearts are warmed by sunlight

Hope burns bright in the air

My life is born today

Energy once lost fills my bones

Life pumps in my muscles

Divinity clears my head

Giving peace to my chatter

Journeys beginning and ending in a moment

Life burning bright, with you holding my heart

My world expands out

To reach places previously silent

Now my world is brimming

With flavors anew

Some exquisite, some off putting

But all form a mosaic

Of what a beautiful new world I’m in

Beginning of a Journey

20170716_183400So I’ve been avoiding writing this for several weeks. I’m not 100% sure why, probably because although I’m about to embark on an amazing adventure and I’m going to have to say goodbye to Dublin (at least for a while).

I’m writing this in what has been my little slice of heaven, 20+ degrees, sunshine, and looking out on the beautiful port of Malahide with a tea in my hand. Why would anyone willingly leave this? Good question.. again, not 100% sure why, I just know that I have too. If I go back to the start, everyone says, ah, yes that makes sense. So my start is 22nd December 2016, my husband calls me and out of the blue and tells me he doesn’t want to move to Dublin (and part of that reason was me). To say it came as a shock is an understatement. Within 4 days, I faced accepting the man I loved intensely wanted a divorce for reasons I wasn’t ready to acknowledge or accept.

So, that’s my start, but my decision to pack everything up and walk 1000 miles on the Camino came some months later. I was back in my old house in Weybridge alone packing up the meagre parts that were 13 years of a black, white and grey relationship. Some things I opened and investigated, other things were too painful to do more than throw in a box (and hope in a few years will have lost their power over me). One thing I dared to open was a jewellery box my Dad had given to my mother (hats off to my epic pilfering (and sorry mum…you love me really?!)). In this was a chain I’d worn during my travels with my ex, which contained 2 St Christopher’s. Who would need 2, isn’t that a little greedy? Why yes! However, both mean a lot to me. One is my mum’s (again, sorry mum…got a feeling I’ll be saying this a lot in here!). The other, my mum gave to me, before I got lost in South America for several months.

Needless to say I pulled it out and put it on. Something hadn’t quite clicked yet. But little did I know, it was about to crash down, like an avalanche.

That evening my mum arrived and I managed to escape the house with her. After chilling out the next day, I had a horrible realisation about how much work I needed to do. So getting back to the hotel at 10pm, I opened up my emails, and began trudging through everything that ‘needed’ to be done. And when I say ‘needed’ to be done, it didn’t. The world wasn’t going to end, there was no emergency, there were no lives at stake. Just another over- demanding group of stakeholders who didn’t care I was on holiday, they just wanted me to get done what they wanted at their convenience. All whilst I was dreading the next day, where I’d be moving out of my home. It was at this moment the crash came. Here I was again, working till 2am, to satisfy some grumpy stakeholders, when I had much bigger things going on. What was I doing with my life? And this is when it hit me, I wasn’t doing my life. I was a passenger trying to make myself believe a white picket fence, with the 2.1 children would make me happy. And none of this had. If anything, it had taken me further from my happiness than I would have thought possible. Within 24 hours I just knew I had to walk 1000 miles on the Camino, and that was that.

And so now I have to say goodbye to my little flat. Something that’s been my sanctuary for the last few months. Where I’ve started to learn to come back to myself. And its because of this I’ve decided a few things:

  1. I’m a cliché… a British version of Eat, Pray, Love and, I love it!
  2. I’m very lucky that I’ve had a roof over my head. So I want to raise some money for those who aren’t as fortunate (the Syrian refugees). I’ve picked 2 charities to support (Movement on the ground and Football for refugees) and will be setting up my donation site imminently.
  3. Divorce is tough. Even when its amicable. And maybe the lesson’s I’ve learnt can help someone else out there. So I’ll be tracking my journey on my blog and hopefully I’ll have enough material to cobble a book together at the end.
  4. My feet are seriously going to hurt soon… Please send plasters… massage therapist.. someone to fan me and serve me peeled grapes.

See you soon, and as they say on the trail, Buen Camino! xox