What can I begin to muster for this blog post? Isn’t it incredibly frustrating to have so many thoughts in your head only to be unable to write them down on a computer screen.  It is as if the disconnect between the physical and material world is too much for my body to fight through right now.

I was spontaneous.

Gasp.

I did not plan a day and asked the front desk at the hostel to book me for a group tour to the Wicklow mountains, and I am so glad i was able to visit Glendalough.

I met fellow solo traveling ladies and we spent the day having intense conversations, crying together and laughing. Heartily. Fairies allowed us to see something on the way back that was previously hidden to us.  We weren’t ready yet.

And then they decided: you are.  You are ready.

So we left a wish, a passing and a blessing.  I asked them to look over my Oma and Opa in heaven.

There were so many things that were left exposed and raw, moments that I wanted to speak my truth but I found it difficult to fully explain my story.  Suddenly, I felt that I no longer needed to explain and instead I  listened, listened and learned and observe. I passed no judgement and no judgement was passed onto me.

Ireland is INDEED a magical place, a place of learning. Silent welcoming to enter, stay for as long as you like.  And to go on when you know & feel it is time to go.

Today, a different sort of magic happened.

A quick panic engulfed my morning due to a miscommunication with the booking agency, a hidden fee and tears of fear: I had miscalculated a cost and I was worried.  Damn Dublin, why do you have to be expensive? And why are there are these extra fees to renting a car?

The guy who helped me had horrid breath.  It made me nauseas.  Please, for the love that is all that is good in this world get a damn tick tack.  You work in customer service.

He said he’d see me tomorrow and I hoped to god he was kidding, or at least, remembered to bring a toothbrush with him in the morning.

He thought he was flirting. I thought I was dying.

Talk about miscommunication.

I took a taxi over to the National Botanical Gardens and spent an hour walking around kindred spirits, plants that reached out and begged to touch you and asked if you could touch them, gently, softly. I cried at their beauty and they whispered they loved me.

I believe it.

I met fellow photographers and lovers and took their pictures and everything aligned correctly.  We made beautiful, delicate and intimate images that I hope they cherish forever. I know I will.

I hope they understood how incredible that moment was for me, how divinely important it was to create in an environment and situation in time that was unfamiliar, I think we all taught each other so much.  I know I learned a hell of a lot from their kind and beautiful souls.

 

This evening was spent eating cup of noodles and drinking Guinness. I think I will find myself many evening doing exactly THIS on the trip. Quietly creating, writing and relaxing. Drink in hand and cheap food in the other, reflective and unapologetic of the events that presented itself like a tapestry of many colors.

Perhaps, I, like Dolly, will write a song about it. I have a feeling it’d be a little more melancholy though.