Somewhere within the "windmills of my mind" where oh so many realities and fantasies are entertained.. At some point who knows, maybe I'll even discern and get sorted, which is which; I was pondering, wouldn't it be fun to lead, walking tours?
Recent evidence to that end, might suggest, I relegate my involvement to occasional participant and enthusiastic soloist..
You see, if you were to join me on "my tour," you would have to be prepared for a somewhat open-ended schedule and remain hopeful, you would see what you "expected" to see, while embracing a "letting go," of those very expectations, mindset!
Today, I set out for my first unaccompanied stroll around Cork, Ireland. I had a particular coffee shop in mind; having received info the previous day, both on the caliber of the coffee and the independent shop's involvement in a local weekend event (featuring .. you guessed it, local independent coffee shops). I sat at breakfast at my hotel "studying" the tourist map the hotel gave me. I might well be taking liberty with the word study; if one were to presume that meant, I was getting anything from it and/or retaining it.
I don't know, maybe some sense of it all impresses on me - then again, maybe not. An area (George's Quay) was given to me yesterday, by the local who informed me of the shop. I set out with the street names of the first couple of streets/junctions I will encounter on route, and off I go. I not only wanted to find this coffee shop, but I wanted to take in some of the city along the way and I wanted to spend some time sitting and writing. I believed to be true, that the first part of the walk would take me through a part of town I experienced yesterday with some friends. I was duly impressed that I actually saw the shop we had visited yesterday. So then while "celebrating the small victories;" after all, I had been correct in my assessment that the new destination would take me through "familiar" territory. As it turns out, that is pretty much irrelevant with regard to reaching the new destination via a pre-determined route.
There was a very fine drizzle throughout the a.m. which wasn't a problem for me personally, however it was reeking havoc with my map. As it happens, after I got to the end of my first referenced street and I did see a sign for the second street - which ended rather abruptly, the map wasn't a particularly useful reference anymore anyway. It had appeared; according to my interpretation of the map, this second street was going to take me most of the way to the area where the coffee shop was - so it must carry on again! This presumption meant I'm now about to venture into the matrix of streets and alleys that one might say are "off the grid" (if a grid existed) and that meander hither and yon..... Even when I consciously intend to get a fix on a landmark before taking another branch in the road, it's possible, I'll never see it again! What this means, is that should I "decide"the labyrinthine series of twists and turns is not going where I want to be, then back-tracking along the same route, with the idea of a course alteration from some known starting point - most likely won't happen. I generally stand firmly in, being "here" (now). Where my resolve can become eroded is, I don't always know where "here" is.
I wandered through the rabbits-warren-esque streets - shops, sights, colours very quickly saturate my consciousness and before long my "here" forgets about the "there" I was trying to find...
I "found" one of the shops participating in the event (Cork Coffee Roaster's). There I was given the opportunity to sample three different blends of coffee they roast. After listening to the very comprehensive description of each coffee - which frankly was pure poetry, I realized I may never be able to consider coffee in the same way again.. Here was someone that knew coffee and as I absorbed her eloquence; I was reminded me that anything, can be elevated to an art form and held in reverence.
I carried on my walk, along the way I saw a number of different tattoo studios (all presently closed) I wasn't looking for one... unless it turns, out I am. The locked doors ensured that for now, none of them would present as a distraction from, whatever it was I was doing..
Eventually I came to the "other" branch of the river which place me in the southern sector of the city. Of course that didn't mean I was anywhere near the coffee house, however I was closer than an hour previous when my meandering took me back to the north side - just farther "down-stream."
Before long as I wandered along the river I saw a beautiful cathedral... initially I thought it a good a time as any to both see inside and have a quiet little sit... I'm not a card-carrying member of any particular religious/spiritual affiliate. I can and do, at times benefit immensely from just being in some of those "temples." Of course I could, can and will, say the same thing of being at the seaside or deep in the woods.... Often, but not always it might be better if there isn't a service going on... The purity of the silence is cavernous.... I have presumed the energy within is that of sanctity. Now I have to acknowledge at least some of that, I bring in with me (it has nothing to do with what is specifically practiced in there - it's more how I see myself in relation to that.....
Anyway, it would seem that wasn't why I went up there at all. The cathedral was locked up.. I noted a sign that outlined service times and "tours" I allocated that information to the maybe I'll drop around another time, but maybe not, because this is now and then, I might be looking for something entirely different.
I took the opportunity for a few photos and while walking around the building I learned there was a labyrinth on the grounds. I'm in the process of refining the manuscript of a book that I'm writing about a forty day practice of walking a labyrinth in Victoria. The signage posted gave some background info on the history of labyrinths (which might well augment my intro) and some guidelines around "walking the labyrinth." I read them with curiosity, though you might guess, after walking one forty days in a row... I came to an "understanding,," through the direct tutelage of the labyrinth itself. Or as I consider in the book itself, people that built the labyrinth, others that have walked it, the ancestors of the land it occupies, my own ancestors.........
Most recently (after having walked this particular labyrinth) I ponder a labyrinth to labyrinth connection (in this case Victoria to Cork). Now I suppose I can no more establish this as true for anyone else than anyone else can deem it impossible for me. Beside that, in that place where experiences like this "gel" for me - which will not stand to the scrutiny of "empirical evidence" I can't explain it and fortunately I don't have to.
The labyrinth is a deeply holy place for me (so I came to know).... I had no real experience with one before that which became the basis for the book. I assert "it" called me.. The day it began, I had no "intention" of walking a labyrinth.. I did leave my apartment to go for "a walk." The area of town where the labyrinth is wasn't even specifically, a destination.
My reference to "holy place," can now for me only be said to be superficially true. The labyrinth in Victoria certainly is beautifully laid out - constructed of two different colour of bricks. Even the geometry of it's appearance does have a "sacredness" about it. However it is the walk that can potentially reveal the power of the labyrinth. It is a portal (minimally) if such an event can be deemed minimal one can walk from the "outside" to the inner sanctum of their soul.. What more sacred "altar" can one approach than this? Even if it is discovered while visiting the altar there have been desecrations (sometimes by the visitor themselves) it can be the beginning of a resolve and intention of reparation, reconsecration and renewed reverence.
I'm sure the inside of the cathedral is beautiful. I've never been in one where I didn't become present, to divine expression seen manifest, through the hundreds of crafts-people that built these structures. Just the same, the union of manifest world and internal universe; as experienced through the "sole" of my feet upon the labyrinth - heavens above, earth below, witnessed by the most extraordinary trees...... utterly... (scrumptiously, the cat's pyjamas) as good a description as any.. given all will fall short...
I'd say... "ya can't make this stuff up..." however I suppose I could - but seriously, why would I bother....
After I left the labyrinth I took in a few publicly displayed street art exhibitions ... now walking in the general direction of the coffee house.. You might wonder how I could make such a bold assertion. Well first of all I had by this time walked in most every other direction - so the process of elimination kicked in..... that and I asked a women on the street, if she knew of "Filters" coffee shop? "I've not been there but I hear it's great coffee" (I'm thinking yes, I've now come "full-circle" that's what kicked off this walk...) - "you're heading in the right direction, just keep going.... she says!! "Enjoy!"
I found the shop - which was fairly tiny and full. This was a clear indication that I wasn't going to sit in and write. I got a take-away cup and walked back across the bridge over the river. Once on the other I noticed a street sign - it was the street that I was originally "meant" to be on. On that street was a memorial to commemorate all those that had died in the various struggles and fighting for Irish independence. There is some significance in this for me... that I'm not entirely clear about. I have had my awareness of it expanded in various ways since getting to Ireland. It deeply saddens me that there are those that were executed for upholding freedom, independence, autonomy. With deep respect and compassion for all those that this history has impacted... it is not my intention to diminish their ownership of this history...
I have long been a man without (a known) history.... this history is my history ... My heart clambers to hold to the threads of recognition; at the same time, fears the insult to "true Irish nationals" and their refusal to acknowledge - a place for me in this history...
This morning I walked across the street and a few doors down to a coffee shop I had tried to access the day I went for this "walk..." at the time it was closed.
When I got in today and sat down... I noticed a bank of shelves, full of books on different periods of Irish history - "the Rising," biographies about individuals that I now know (from various museums I've visited) were some of the signatories on the Provisional Government Proclamation and they were subsequently executed... there is a copy of that very document (as there was on the side of a building on the street with the memorial). Both the hotel I'm staying at and the coffee shop, are on MacCurtain St. the proprietor at the coffee shop (after I began a conversation with regard to the collection of books and memorabilia in the shop) told me, was a former mayor of Cork who himself was executed.. He is pictured with a group of men on the wall of the shop...
If I had come to this shop earlier ... it may not have had the same impact, as coming here after my walking tour....
As I've said, my home my whole life, has been "Victoria, Canada" - a place that continues to venerate the British monarch that became the cities name sake.... I came across, again, on the same street as the memorial, a poster for a public gathering ..... the caption reads: "Vulgar Victoria - Famine Queen"
"Why is she honoured in our street names?" Dignity & Respect? Given the history of colonialism - the taint that continues to permeate the city of Victoria - the question is still, every bit as valid - Why is she honoured?
Indeed - "Why?"
In my continued conversation with the coffee shop owner, I mentioned the public notice I had seen and showed him the picture I had taken... he said he had heard of the "planned event;" but hadn't heard of the date, it had been scheduled for. Maybe it's all .. "just a coincidence" ...
In summary, when walking a labyrinth there is a presumption, of a clear objective.. Here I stand at the entrance .. and I want to get to the centre. The pathway winds and weaves; sometimes it takes you directly along side the centre, only to then turn away and take you a considerable distance to the opposite side - no longer near the centre. Eventually the continued journey takes you to the "core."
You might get the impression that following that pathway is actually not going to get you where you're meant go.
I wonder, if one could see the "walk they are taking through life" from a "higher perspective;" they could then see, that even though they believe; that currently "this," is going NOWHERE! the bigger picture view, might reveal - that in fact, you are not lost at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment