Yesterday was a day of travel. My Buddhist friends say, about most everything, something to the effect of “and herein lies the practice.” This is what I was saying to myself as I drove the Irish countryside, at once familiar and not so. Though fraught with white knuckled nerves, my journey was uneventful – in spite of monsoon styled rains. (It was overly rainy, even for Ireland!) But I managed with the driving, getting used to being the pilot of a strangely-sided vehicle. I must admit that being fully and constantly present in the moment is actually really exhausting when one actually does it for real.
We go through our lives on auto-pilot so much of the time. There is nothing quite like driving in Ireland to remind me thus.
This morning, there is peat in the air. I slept soundly and solidly for the first time since arriving and this has given me renewed purpose. There may be a visit to the beach today. Music has been elusive so I will just play on my own perhaps. One cannot push the plan. I hope to get the paints out as well, though I am disappointed with the medium I ordered to use as its drying time is a good deal longer than what I use at home.
It can take a few days to feel truly landed in a place. I am not sure I have quite yet arrived, but I am close.