The time is growing longer in between blogs, and I really would like to do a better job staying updated. Time flies when one is having fun and studying in Dublin. Much has happened, and I've been exceedingly introspective lately regarding birth, death, and that dash in between. We all go through our mental dilemmas and questions of mortality from time to time, and I appreciate the time to reflect and be grateful.
This blog is going to start with another visit to Glendalough. As you may remember from the previous chapter, Jen and I had taken a trip to Glendalough (GLEN-da-lock) in the Wicklow Mountains. Before we left Dublin, however, I had gotten news that my grandmother, whom we fondly call Ba, had been diagnosed with cancer and that she had chosen not to fight it. I had the opportunity to book a flight back to the U.S. on January 6th, but before I got on the plane I wanted to go back to Glendalough. It has become a hugely spiritual space for me. This time, I went with another good friend and recurring character, Craig. On this trip, we climbed a mountain called The Spinc (I feel as if I am officially an amateur mountain climber), we found the greenest grass I have ever seen, the ruins called to me, and we saw a pack of feral mountain goats.
And because it's January, we had the luxury of being virtually the only people out there.
To breathe, to sit, and to feel the mountains is a power that cannot be described. It's impossible not to call life into question in those moments and feel lucky, fortunate, grateful, blessed, and gifted.
The best way I know how to show you what I do is through pictures, so here we go again. If you click on the pictures you should be able to make them larger. Unfortunately, the size of them on blogspot doesn't show much detail.
More of the ruins are seen below. Some tombstones had toppled long ago, and there they sit. Some of them are quite large.
Once again, St. Saviour's ruins.
I loved this tree. I ended up just sitting on it for a while.
The goat pack. I believe there were a total of six of them. We saw a second pack that also had six, but their horns were significantly smaller.
If the faerie world exists, I believe they exist in these patches of green randomly found in dense forest. The forest is so dark and thick that these patches seem to practically glow green. I wish my camera had captured it better.
The view of Lower Lake
The clouds reflecting the setting sun on our first day.
On the second day, we walked forever and ever. This is a shot from on top of The Spinc. We had started at the far side of the far lake in the distance (Lower Lake), walked along at ground level past Upper Lake, which is the body of water closest to us, and then we went up the side of the mountain to the top. Really powerful stuff.
Craig and I once we made it to the top.
The tallest mountain just beyond the little tree here is where we were, and here we start our descent.
So, less than 48 hours after climbing the mountain I boarded a plane straight for Chicago so that I could spend time with Ba while I had the chance. I was in the States for 6 days, and almost all of my time was spent hanging out with Ba, who seems to be doing well given the circumstances. I did get one day in there to see my most favoritist of people though: My lovely seestor. We did a gift exchange in her dorm room, and I got us Irish knit caps, which we are wonderfully modelling.
Yeah, we're pretty cute.My visits with Ba were very well spent, and we discussed many things of the past when I lived with her and when we travelled, we sang some Czech songs that we would sing at Camp Sokol, talked about the bird she owned for a bit, how my cousin and I would play Baywatch in her swimming pool, theatre, Ireland ...
It was wonderful.
But eventually I had to come back to Dublin, and I had to say goodbye for what was most likely the last time. We should all be so lucky to have the time to say hello and goodbye in someones life, and I am so thankful for that chance with Ba. Not all of us will have a choice or a say in how we die, and most of us won't be able to say goodbye every time we experience death.
So, upon my return in Dublin I have found myself wandering the streets with a different feeling of mortality. I often look around, smile and shake my head because surely I am doing something and living a life in an country I have only dreamed about. So what does it all mean? It means that if life so chooses to leave me tomorrow, I will have died fulfilling something major for myself. A victory in many ways.
And I think life means different things for different people. For me it means to travel, to breathe, to embrace nature, to make art, to laugh as hard as possible, to love as big as my heart will allow, and to judge others as I want to be judged, to live with compassion for myself and for you, to never stop learning, to feel the freedom to be whoever I need to be, and to help others feel free as well.
That's not too much to ask, is it? :)
Okay, so maybe many of those things take a bit of time and practice, which I'm working on. But you deserve to ask yourself what life means for you. And then please go do those things that are important to you. Life will leave us all eventually, and all that will be left is the energy you leave behind.
