 |  |
Bridge Street Bookshop & The Bridge Tavern, Wicklow Town
The physical body is only meant to withstand a certain amount of sleeplessness, which varies on a person-to-person basis. Somewhere on the drive up to Wicklow Town for my brother to visit the amazing Bridge Street Bookstore there, I reached my limit. Instead of being excited to be visiting one of my favorite places in the whole world, I was sullen and quiet, back to brooding about how foolish I was being in trying to accomplish any of what this trip was about. And, probably more to the point, I was hangry. There was a glimmer of excitement in the thought of getting takeaway dinner at the Bridge Tavern, across from the bookstore, but there, my friends, is where the last of my pleasantness reserves ran out. We were told they were not offering takeaway, and this glitch in my plan was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.
When I get in a mood such as the one I was ruminating in at this point, hangry,
exhausted, vulnerable, I really like that I do have the decency to keep my
mouth shut, knowing the foul things running around in my head are not
constructive or helpful to myself, or anyone around me. I give them their
space, acknowledge their perspective as valid, yet realize I do not have to
agree with them or let them take over my words. So, while my lowered cognitive
ability gave them an easier target to hit in my head, I knew that the main
target I still needed to be aiming for was my stomach.
 |
| Brass Fox, Wicklow Town |
 |
 |
I walked down to the waterfront and the sunset bathed me in the reminders
that no matter what, we live in a beautiful and simple world. Where the sun
rises and sets every day, often offering us a gorgeous show in the process. I
watched a large tanker vessel come into dock at the harbor and remembered the
times I had walked out to the little lighthouse with my children and listened
to the waves crash against the cement wall that protected the harbor from the
brunt of the Atlantic's waves. The tanker also reminded me of my dear friend in
Ireland who I was hoping to see on this trip. I felt like it was her way of
saying welcome back to Wicklow and to Ireland. I was grateful the effect of
these fifteen minutes standing and breathing on the quay were enough to buoy me
back up to a respectable level of civility towards my brother, and myself. We
picked up our food and I drove us back to the Meetings in Avoca where we had a
quiet dinner in our room, and both were asleep by 9:00 pm. Well, I was at
least.
The rollercoaster ride of dealing with ourselves and our emotions is not something to be scoffed at or taken lightly. But we sometimes forget that we are the main creators of our track. I am grateful for the time I’ve taken to learn the mechanics of building my track as I go, and how to create a new one if I do not like the one I’m on or where it is taking me. Our thoughts are our most powerful tools, and the more we practice using them for the creation of good in our lives, the better we get at creating good lives, just like the entire rest of this journey.
