Escape to myself

“Perhaps there are those who are able to go about their lives unfettered by such concerns. But for those like us, our fate is to face the world as orphans, chasing through long years the shadows of vanished parents. There is nothing for it but to try and see through our missions to the end, as best we can, for until we do so, we will be permitted no calm.”

Kazuo Ishiguro, When We Were Orphans

I’ve called this blog escape to myself and it’s struck me how many people I’ve met are escaping from something… or trying to find a place where they fit. Like me there is a dissatisfaction with their lives and they are consumed with the idea that somewhere there is that place in which they find wholeness and completion. It’s what I’m searching for. But we always carry ourselves with us and until we can live with that perhaps the search will not bear fruit.

Often it appears that the search isn’t so much for a place but a feeling … of connection with people with like minds and attitudes … for people who are open to love, joy, excitement and passion. We have to be in a place where we recognise what that might be. I’ve met so many lovely people, many of whom have been willing to share their hopes, fears and anxieties as they move around … looking, looking. But it’s friendship and people that we need.

It’s coming up to five weeks since I left and for the most part it’s been exciting, interesting and yes, fun. I’m a little tired and my trip comes to an end soon. I’m trying to spin it out as much as possible. I’m apprehensive about what awaits me back in England. Will I have the same feelings I had before I started planning this journey. I think I’m a little changed by it. Braver, a little more confident in myself with more courage and I understand that maybe people do enjoy my company. I have learned something about myself. I think when I get home I will have to start planning for my next adventure. The loneliness of Sissinghurst, despite the good friends I have does not bring me fulfilment or contentment. So I’ll continue to search for the elusive land of lost content.

Into my heart an air that kills  
  From yon far country blows:  
What are those blue remembered hills,  
  What spires, what farms are those?  
  
That is the land of lost content,
  I see it shining plain,  
The happy highways where I went  
  And cannot come again.

And now on to Ljubljana … with happy memories and ready to meet dear friends