Ireland- November 2021 (4)

    Coming to Bray in the darkness of that November morning served a dual purpose, one side purely psychological and the other purely functional. First, it was a familiar place for me to return when I was feeling exhausted and unsure, just like how I felt the first time I set foot in Ireland in 2015, a single mom with her two children, ages 11 and 7. And just like back in 2015, I visited the beach that reassured me with its gently crashing waves and helped me to settle into myself and make my next decisions from a place of renewed confidence, and excitement, even with my doubt still hissing, teeth bared, in my ear.

Esplanade Hotel in 2015

    I also walked over to the Esplanade Hotel, which seemed to be closed. If so, I hope someone can get it up and going again. It is such a beautiful old place with warming character, and it welcomed my kids and me when we were fresh into the country with too much stuff and just enough courage to be there. It felt natural to come back to this original place to start.

    Functionally speaking, Bray also had a cellphone store where I could buy a sim card for my phone.

    Remember, nothing in Ireland opens until 8 or 8:30 and many not until 10, which I assumed was the case with the cellphone store. So after watching the sunrise, yet still receiving that potent self-criticism for not booking an earlier flight so we wouldn't have to kill all this time, I decided to drive us to the Tesco grocery store in the hopes that they may have a sim card I could purchase. I worked on creating an alternative dialogue in my head, reminding myself about how things turn out as they're meant to, and everything was going to be fine, and oscillated successfully between the two trains of thought on the way. 

    When Tesco opened at 8, we went inside and I began to instantly feel even better being in the shop around the familiar products I had grown to love while I lived there. They did not have a sim card, but we picked up some gluten-free muffins and fruit for breakfast and waited for the adjoining Costa Coffee to open. Because coffee. 

Tesco Grocers in Bray

    Around this time in the morning, and it being a Tuesday, the local school children began walking to the nearby schools from the nearby neighborhoods, and we sat and enjoyed the beautiful bustle that seemed to instantaneously pop up around us. When we pulled in, the parking lot had only one other car in it, and no people to be seen. Then, in a few moments' time, it was teeming with the activity of morning rush. It made me think of the congruous nature with which life seems to flow in Ireland. Everyone seems to operate on the same page, albeit in their own unique ways. But all tapped into the hum of the day. All together a part of something bigger than themselves, creating a feeling of ease to the order of the day. I relished it, and sat gratefully in the car amidst its presence.

    The coffee shop opened at 8:30 and I entered with my laptop among the couple others who had lined up outside waiting for it to open. I loved how there was no presupposition for the employee to let people in early while she set up the tables and chairs in the patio space outside. The customers that were there just patiently waited. And were not cross when they were allowed to enter. It was the order of things. And again, that feeling of everyone was in it together.

    I was asked to give my information if I was sitting inside for the possibility of contact tracing if needs be, so I gave my name and email and ordered my coffee. I chose a table where I could still see the activities of the school kids hanging out before making their way to class. Each had on their school uniform and all had on the early morning hesitancy about having to go to school at all. On the patio, small groups would congregate and move on, making way for the next small group, like the water in the ocean coming from all over the sea to congregate together on the beach in wave after wave. And then eventually, they were all gone, and it was quiet. Just an occasional mom and small child walking to the Tesco, or person on their way to work. 

    After these moments, I couldn't hear that self-criticism anymore, even though I didn't notice it in the moment. All I felt in the moment was how pleased I was to be greeted by the everyday minutia of the morning. It was a warm reminder of my life when I lived in Wicklow, and of the synchronistic nature of life when we allow it. And now, with the gift of hindsight, I see it was again demonstrated to me how powerful our own thoughts are when we decide to switch trains.