'Before I die, I want to stand on an ice sheet and
in an orange desert and see nothing but vast sky.'
I didn't dream of travel particularly; I
was a home bird who liked being in England and at most longed to visit the
ancient sites of the British Isles and Ireland. I was the last of my (three,
younger) siblings to really travel in the true sense of the word. I couldn't
wait to leave school and go to Art College so having a gap year was very far
from my mind. Also I admit I was terrified of the idea! Despite leaving home to
go to college, then moving to London soon after and virtually disappearing from
the family landscape in my twenties, I needed my friends and soul family more
than they ever knew.
Life moves in waves both destructive and
creative. A gradual building up and gathering of people, places, somewhere to
work, to call home and then things fall apart and disintegrate in your hands
like dust only to pull back and move through to the next wave. Beneath it the
sandy beach of your soul undulates and changes, old beliefs eroding and others
revealed as treasures - curled shells upon the golden curve of Self.
It is only later in life that one
acknowledges an undercurrent of restless energy, of courage and calling.
Something reminds you of a story once read long ago where the heroine stood
alone in a desert and understood profoundly her own being for the first time in
her life. How profoundly that touched you and your young self, but what to do
with it? Pocket it away until you have lived enough to need it...
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