“The art of losing isn’t hard to master, so many things seem filled with intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster!” Elizabeth Bishop
I grew up in Ireland in a small town. It was a simple time filled with simplicity and we felt safe from the claws of the outside world.
I got itchy feet early and I responded to the call of adventure. I confidently packed my bags and head out into the big wide world.
I went to Germany when I was 19, I traveled with some friends. I lived in Constance. I worked at McDonald’s. It was an interesting time. I felt the bite of freedom. I was hooked. I could never settle in one place for long after that. I lost my faith,I lost my friends, but that was no disaster.
I returned to Ireland and soon discovered that was a disaster. I immediately acknowledged inner discontentment. I decided to move again this time to the states.
I left safety net of my family, said goodbye to all my school friends, cousins and a dear old grandmother. I secretly hoped I would never return. EB words stayed with me and I began to realize that losing things was no disaster.
I went to Philadelphia to stay with my brother and to do a little soul searching. I enjoyed the movement, the noise, the people and the freedom of America. Living with a sibling was no fair game, so I responded to a job opportunity and moved to West Virginia. I learnt to ski and I quickly slipped down the slopes of danger. I took many risks with my new found friends and learnt to speak a different language. When the season ended, I went back to Philadelphia.
I took riding lessons and enjoyed being around nature and animals. My biggest challenge was working with an inflexible trainer. I had to endure the whip. But when I was invited to go fox hunting. I knew my training was justified. I was indeed well prepared.
t was a thrilling time, galloping down steep hills and jumping cross country and not to mention, almost falling off…but thankfully, there was no disaster!
I met the man of my dreams at a barn where I rode a stallion named Madison. I was deep in mud, drenched in sweat and my mood was dark. He was impressed! And then a story of love, a fairy tale wedding in Scotland, a honeymoon in Wales and reception in Ireland. It was a marvelous time planning our future together.
Life went on… We enjoyed living off the land and during those years, the long sunsets drove home in me that importance of understanding ‘less is more!’. The joy of planting an organic garden was exhilarating. We filled it with all kinds of fresh vegetables and our dreams reached the sky like the large yellow sunflowers bathing in the sun. It was a peaceful time.
ROCK BOTTOM
I went back to Ireland with a heavy load of regret. I was a broken person. I was left alone, unexpectedly to weep, but EB’s lines stayed with me. “The art of losing isn’t hard to master.” I searched deep into those words for meaning. I began to understand the simple words and loss became my little friend.
I once again packed my bags when an opportunity disguised like a strong wind knocked me off my guard. The next thing I knew I was on a plane to South Korea. This fresh breeze lifted up my spirits. I was ready for a new challenge.
I enjoyed learning about the culture, history and family life of the Koreans. It was a life changing experience. I traveled around the country and met some interesting people. I tasted all types of ethnic spicy foods. And I was surprised to learn that cooked dog is a specialty food served frequently on menus..
When I decided to leave Korea, my heart filled with a sense of profound loss, I began to calculate my loses over the years and I felt the art of losing.
Now I live in Kiev, Ukraine. I teach, I write, I ride and I wonder what is the next loss!
inhismasterswords 