This is what I will tell you: Never again carry an itinerary.
Okay, have a landing pad and a departure pad
as anchors if you must.
But that is all.
Nowhere to go; no place to be, except
for as long as you decide.
And in that moment, recognize
that the casual, chance encounter you’ve just had
with a boutique owner, or a father and his three freckle-faced boys,
or a sign-post
might be a pointer
toward what is next.
No one to tell you which way is “right”.
Holding your own expectations
(try as you might, to be without).
With quiet mouth, quiet mind, open heart, empty vessel
as your mantra –
over and over a reminder
and only guide–
allow a pathway to spill open,
perfect in all its
And while you’re at it, in the frantic freedom of it all —
never again go by car. Or train. Or plane.
Oh sure, you will have to get from here to there
but then —
Walk as expansively as you can on the land.
See her differently. See her
in the most intimate way you are able,
boots absorbing her soft, mossy, feminine, woodland paths
or her stony, bare, masculine summits.
Accompanied by the hazel walking stick that has found you –
hazel, the wood of wisdom; the wood of divination —
your ears attuned to the melodies
of her beings here and now:
birdsong; breezes; water falling or flowing or crashing;
children’s screeches of playful mirth.
Or perhaps hearing whispers
from the ancestors before.
Eyes, scanning in amusement or wonder
or surprise or terror at whatever lies before them –
a picture they have never seen before.
Remind yourself you have everything you need;
you always have.
And in a moment —
(you will know it when you are in it) —
revealing the wild Atlantic thirty meters below,
and a high, unscalable embankment on the opposite side –
remember to recite your innocent childhood prayers,
and believe you are cradled.
That every indiscernible moment has led you
to this one.
And God will not let you fall.
When you are out the other side
do not hesitate to get on your knees
the safe, soggy, cow pasture of nirvana.
Or sing Clancy Brothers’ songs at the top of your lungs
with crusty, old fishermen at O’Connell’s Pub.
Or smile from ear to ear as you walk
to the hostel where you dwell
for the night.
Certain you have been gifted everything this day.
you did not even know
©2015 Jennifer Comeau. All rights reserved.