Losing a day or two is understandable, but a year? I awoke in old head, Cork. Let’s just off-road this one, pretending I ever had a choice.
It went a lil something like this- a strange exit out of India, aka the great escape; drop into Manhattan, revisiting old worlds in the new town; and though the sun rises in the East it settles in a finer location, a Cali stint before a wee bit of voodoo in New Orleans. Then a change of gears into poverty-stricken yet otherwise divinely rich lands of Central America. Ancient Mayans, modern police, active volcanoes, deadly markets, and mucho, mucho, siempre madness everywhere I go. After a broken ankle moment in El Salvador its a strange yet sexy experience in Panama, before a family-fueled rocket launch at NASA. Wrapping up in Florida before I hit up the Mediterranean with a whole other story of delights and disasters in Italy, Greece, and the commonwealth nations of England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales; a birthday in Germany which leads to a wild ride through the alps.
One of the last times I laid crying, bleeding, bruised on a fucking Goan hotel floor begging for mercy I promised myself that when, if, I got out of India I’d give myself the ultimate gift of ‘whatever I wanted’… I lost a shit ton during this crude, rude, enlightening period. Some situations I wish transpired differently, but then again, not really.
A bits and bobs piece with parts coming from my journal overlaid with real-time commentary. October is my month, you see. The veil becomes thin and the air smacks of truth. It’s been 6 years since I experienced winter. I forgot how honest it is.
Mistakes, negligence, folly, fun, desires, even death… all go hand in hand. Whether you know it or not we know it, we are in love with the moment right before it all breaks.
“In the field in which we are concerned knowledge comes only in lightning flashes. The text is the long roll of thunder that follows”
End: Dance macabre or avadhuta? There is only one way to find out… or more likely infinite pathways that lead to the same place.
6 months have passed since the above.
Life is full of second chances. I’m living proof.
I didn’t come to Ireland to stay. I didn’t come to Ireland to find my clan. I didn’t come to Ireland to get sober.
Yet all these things have happened. I have been using terms I didn’t grasp. “There is more than meets the eye here”. Little did I know. Even less will I never know. Every square inch a tale, a mystery, a part of ancient history. Ireland sings a song that requires an ear for a frequency not heard in city streets. Eyes that see beyond. A heart that goes Boom. I had forgotten allot, of too many important things. I was in mach 5 hurling towards whatever pulse-racing scenes of chaos and dionysiac revelry came next. Rather exhausting work, actually.
After six years chasing the eternal summer I have cherished this winter on the old head. It has changed me. Winter was warm and loving. Brutal and hash inside. Many demons were battled. But I found the right place to do it. Seemingly the only place. Destiny is a cheeky wink.
Deciding to rent a 4 b/r house alone on a cliff aptly named ‘the old head’ in the dead of winter doesn’t seem like the kinda place where so much would happen. It is not that we are hard to surprise anymore, it is surprises are hard to come by in a world that doesn’t value the elements of surprise. Genuine surprise has led to astonishment.
You don’t write about Ireland, it rewrites you. This is sacred land to me. Scared clan. Now I set sail again knowing a port of magic awaits for my return.
As for the booze I’m into my third month not a sip and I’m shocked to report I don’t miss it. Drinking daily, starting whenever I wished, for years. Not a word of a lie, I don’t miss it. I’ve been to bars, parties, and old situations with people I used to engage in pirate level drinking with. All feels good. I like the atmosphere. I can still have fun in it. I just don’t feel compelled to drink. Anyone who knows me knows I won’t half the night out. In the end the drink was taking more than it was giving. Toxic relationship for a long, long, never-ending-story, time. I was losing. I didn’t care about my jobs, money, or even my men. All replaceable. Some get tattoos I get scars. But when I started losing myself…. My shine. My sparkle. Shit had to change. Too competitive of a spirit to lose to myself. Spending too much time in the underworld is dangerous but it is spring and time for Persephone to come up.
Anything that pulls you into unconsciousness, when you meet it with awareness and not succumb to the pull, you actually use it in your growth of awareness. The very thing that made you unconscious before can now be used to make you more conscious. Sex, food, gaming, social media. Anything with heavy pull. Use the addiction pull for awareness. Feel the need. Watch it. Observe it. Allow it to be there. Its only when you are unaware can it take you over. Don’t push it down. Meet it in awareness.
The only way I change is with relentless forgiveness. Harshess only keeps me in the lower realms. Stuck in samsara. Keep being your biggest supporter.
Games will be played. Sometimes in excess. All kinds of games. All kinds of excess. But the dance macabre with the liquid devil is no longer center stage. Everything has its phase. Rhythm. Cycle. This is no more than that. There’s too much exciting stuff happening right now for me to want to remain unconscious to it all. The space left by the arduous and expensive work of maintaining that 24/7 party lifestyle across the world has been filled with magical things. Simple to the eye. I’m starting to remember the important things. We all forget and it takes a tribe to remind you. I got blessed with mine. Transformative energy that I know I couldn’t have done alone or with traditional programs and methods offered by society.
Travel will be a new world order. All the stuff I have saved along the way is now making sense. The gift of getting to know yourself is an honor and privilege.