Making Harbour

I’ve finally made it. The journey was tumultuous with both darkness and delight, but I’ve finally made harbour in my new home, my new job and my new (fairly) settled life in Glasgow. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been! I’ll have to tell youse more about it…

I haven’t blogged or written much since arriving here. I was wont to think too much about things and found my metephorical tongue was a stone when I attempted to write about my experiences. When I did express myself in written form, it was to bemoan the fact that I hadn’t been writing, and couldn’t write anymore. Black Rook in Rainy Weather. I fancied that the Scottish faeries had my tongue on ice, as faeries do when you’ve entered their lios and they don’t want you to spill the beans on their world and their secrets. But it was the faeries in my own mind that held my tongue hostage, and stabbed me with their spears and little darts of despair. But we’ve made peace now.

Another young former tutor of mine, Muiris Ó Meara, has passed away recently. We had only been in touch a week or two previous. When I came over here first, we made friends on Facebook, and through the aul Messenger I told him what I was up to here in Scotland. He thought it was well cool, dúirt sé “is ionsparáideach spreagaitheach an scéal é do scéalsa”, and urged me to keep a “dialann deoraí”, an emigrant’s diary/journal. I regret that I haven’t consistently kept a journal, as I’ve just been active, but I’m going to get everything written down now. I knew there was something up and I messaged him a few weeks back, and he said he’d give me advice and help generously. And now he’s passed on. I didn’t get the chance to reply to him before he went. He was mad altogether, very funny, and wrote a lot himself. It’s amazing how the death of such encouraging people in your life really stops you in your tracks to take stock. The other one, Ciarán Ó Con Cheanainn, is still very much with me in everything I do. These people stay with you. That’s why proper educators and great minds really make an impact. Often the impact is unsaid, or understated. Which makes me sad with regret…

But this blast-beruffled young swan has found her way through the ravaging, fierce waters of Sruth na Maoile to make her nest in Glasgow’s harbour, has found her voice again after being mute for so long, sings her song, and rejoices in the arms of her beloved. (This mint julep is bringing out the romantic in me…) Hòro hi hòro o!

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