Twenty-Seven Days

It still feels like a long way off, but these last four weeks will fly by. I'm kind of counting on that because I'm ready - really ready - to go. It's been a year since I left Ireland and I don't think a day has passed that I haven't taken out a memory to savor or thought about how much I loved being there.

Are there places where you just feel "right"? Places that fit you perfectly and seem to be where you were meant to be? That's what Ireland is for me. It fits, it's soothing, it's home, and I miss it.

A coworker asked me why I'm going alone. She didn't understand why I'd want to walk 136 miles alone, around a peninsula and over mountain shoulders, on a route that's not clearly marked. She wondered why I'm not scared. Scared? It never occurred to me to be scared. What's there to be afraid of? Ireland doesn't have any snakes. Need I say more? No scorpions or crocodiles, either. Nothing poisonous and nothing predatory. What's to be afraid of other than getting lost?

Maybe that's the whole purpose behind the adventure; getting lost. Or is it being found?

My family is the most important thing in the world to me. Let me start by saying that because until you understand that, none of the rest of this will make sense. (And even then....who knows. I'm not sure where I'm going with this.) They are my life. I couldn't live without them.

Having established that, I am always wearing at least one hat. I'm Mom, Wife, Employee, Cook, Friend, etc. I'm almost never just me. I think this solo journey will be a rare opportunity to lose all of those other hats and remember what it's like to be Patti. Just Patti. No one else.

Does this sound like crazy talk? Are you contemplating an intervention? Please don't.

I will spend almost three weeks hiking and traveling alone in the Motherland. I'll spend hours and hours walking the coast, through farmland, wooded countryside, and across the desolate moors without seeing another human. I'll have no one to worry about, feed, comfort, or talk with. What a huge change from my normal daily routine, which is spent happily caring for my family, our dogs, and survivors of domestic violence and sexual violence who come to us for support. The most important person in my day will be me. While perhaps that sounds selfish, I think it's one of the greatest gifts I can give myself at this stage in my life.

(Fortunately, I easily amuse myself. A neighbor once told me that if I was locked in a closet, I'd probably have a parade. I chose to interpret that as a compliment.)

I suspect getting lost is probably the quickest way to find yourself. What happens after that, is up to you.