originally part of training/fundraising for the Hepatitis C Trust's Nepal trek. Now, sporadic musings...

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Kathmandu or Die!

Nothing if not a drama queen - of course, I have no intention whatsoever of dying in the attempt, but I liked the 'Do or Die' echo (wasn't that Human League?)

'When you are aligned with your soul purpose, your sole purpose, effortful living becomes effortless effort.'

I truly believe that.

And that if you ask for help, you get it - you can't predict what form it takes, and you can't predict outcomes, but you do get what you ask for.

The morning before the first fundraiser, the sky is unusually beautiful. Cold, crisp and clear - just the sort of February day to bring snow later (which it does!). I have to skywatch several times, literally stop in my tracks just to breathe it in.

The flock of magpies Crysse and I disturbed on our walk at the weekend skyburst as I go past - one, two, three, four, five, six, seven... I knew it was a lot, but I wasn't quick enough to count them that day. John's version of the rhyme is Seven for a story yet to be told. I experience an energy discharge, like a current passing through me.

Maybe this is that story? Or maybe it's reassurance that I will get to finish Dreaming with the Driftwood Mirror one day...

Work is a struggle - it's been such a full-on week, I'm kind of dazed. Brain fog or just plain exhaustion?

After I pick Lyn up, we get stuck in traffic. Which turns out to be more than the usual rush hour snarl-up - no, there's been what looks very much like a pretty fatal RTA. The worst hit car is neatly scrunched up into a much smaller version than its original 4x4 incarnation. I feel sick. Stressed? What's my first reaction? A fag. So what do I do?

Then I remember we did see an ambulance, maybe the occupants did get taken to A&E. They might not survive, of course, but at least they probably weren't eaten by their car as I feared.

It's such a blessing I have Lyn to take care of a quick snack, open the wine etc. when we get back. I'm not sure I'd be able to function on my own.

Jeff Frew's CD images open much easier on Crysse's fabulosa ibook than on my computer at work (now, of course, on my new machine, I can watch them as a slideshow! - even if I can't get Macafee to let Outlook Express operate...)

Crysse has bought wonderful nibbles - smoked salmon, cracked black pepper crisps, white and milk choccy biccies... she's made melon balls, and there are pistachio nuts, cashew nuts...
...and wine of course. Bottles and bottles of wine. And she's not been well!

I'm really nervous.

I have asked these people here to support this mad, mad, venture, this crazed and crazy notion, this possibly delusional ambition...

Other people can make their dreams come true. Other people have delusional notions that become reality.

On the morning of the event, it occurs to me that for a long time I've boosted my sense of self with the label 'writer'. I've considered myself a writer who happens to be a bit mad - like many other writers.

But this day, I realise I am a mad person who happens to write.

So that's how I open the evening.

I tell people about the trip, about why I want to do it. I read the full version of the Goethe quote, and my poem Harry and She.

I'm glugging the wine a bit now - but this is a very special occasion. Mike and Fiona have to leave early, so after offering help with local press promotion, Mike puts a twenty pound note on a clean paper plate and hands it to me. Pippa pledges £100. The ideas begin to flow... Peter Mac offers to oversee the fund and keep everyone updated. Carole suggests she run a fashion show. Peter P offers to organise an auction of promises. Crysse says Paula has offered help although she can't be here. Mike W offers a web site. Annabelle offers at this point to takes notes...
...so I don't have to...
...and the evening rolls on, a magical snowballing of support and goodwill...

I feel supported and safe.
I bare my soul, ask for support for my dream - emotional just as much as practical and financial.
And these good-hearted people 'hold' me, and listen to me, don't laugh cruelly or dismissively at me, they don't taunt me or poke fun at me, but offer me love and compassion alongside support that I could not have dreamed of.

I am overwhelmed. Emotional and touched to my core.

I am truly, truly blessed.

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I began blogging during training for a trek in the Himalayas... several lifetimes ago. Currently working on my novel - in the tiny spaces left by a 50 hour plus working week...