Did You Have A Wonderful Holiday?

This time my answer was a prompt “no”. Previously I had avoided a direct response to questions about my holiday but I could do nothing but be honest when faced with this one. I have been embarrassed not to be able to enthuse but now I’ve had time to digest my experience, I understand why I am so ambiguous about it.

I had left home after a good period of being in equilibrium, at peace. I had prayed to maintain this while I was away. My prayer was answered in that I remained cheerful. I would have hated to have been a misery for my travel companions who, with only two exceptions – not bad in a party of 60 – we’re delightful. And this blog is not a long drawn out complaint. Rather, it is an explanation, as much to myself as to anyone else, of why I didn’t return from America on cloud nine.

Studying Ignatian spirituality, I soon recognised a cause of desolation which can all too easily occur I my life. I call it the “tears before bedtime syndrome”. It has never been a good thing for me to become excited or even a little high. My equilibrium depends on my not having too much going on. I need a life with time to withdraw, be silent, to reflect. Without this I become jagged and am dragged away from what St John of the Cross calls my “true centre”.

The logistics of my holiday were not in my favour. We were on the coach at 8am every morning, our breaks for visiting restrooms and grabbing something to eat were never longer than 30 minutes and I, who value solitude, was closely surrounded by people for hours on end. Even on the coach there was a sense of rush. At least fifty per cent of our sight seeing was done while on the road. I had so looked forward to seeing the fall colours but had to be satisfied with viewing them through tinted windows. I longed for time and space to stand and stare.

Many years ago I was on the Waltzer in a fairground and one of he attendants insisted on spinning our car around. I was reminded of the resulting sensation by our schedule. I couldn’t think straight and, on returning home, it has taken me weeks to recover.

I’m glad I had to courage to make this journey. I was delighted to meet Fran, a Facebook friend, with whom I spent four wonderful hours. I was grateful for my lovely companions who were so kind. I loved Boston, Rhode Island, Kentucky in general and Colonial Williamsburg and the Shenandoah Museum and Gardens in particular. I will be writing more about the places I visited later. However, in future I shall, I think, try to ensure that I remain where my inner peace can be maintained. Nothing is more important. I am who I am and only flourish where I am meant to be.