2. Kennecraig 1300 ferry to Islay (EYE la), arrive 1505.
3. Islay 1515 ferry to Jura, arrive 1520.
4. Jura minibus with Gwen, arriving around 1615 at Craighouse, the only town on Jura.
5. Walk to Mrs. Logan's house a quarter mile from where the bus drops me off.
Looks simple enough on paper.
I wrote to Sandra and Vince this morning telling them I feel a little scared to be facing four days, five nights with nothing to do and nowhere to go on Jura. Sitting, walking, watching the world. Being. That's all.
Yesterday, to do that for an hour or two made my stomach go funny. Nauseated. The thought of it now does, too.
Yet as I stand on the deck of the Hebridean Isles ferry and watch the stern drop down to seal in the vehicles below, I know I'm also ready for whatever comes. Why be afraid? All of my time and life before this moment has prepared me for this moment. And I'm not even on Jura yet. This moment alone is what I'm prepared for--to feel the fear, to let it pass through, to come out the other side.I think fear has been a habit for me. When I fear a task, I really fear that I'm not adequate, not ready, not up to it. I fear that by saying "yes" to something I'm not sure I can do, I'm misrepresenting my true Self to others, pretending to be someone I'm not. But that's really impossible to do--my true Self can do anything she sets out to do.
I stand with other passengers at the front of the ferry and watch our progress to Islay. The wind is cold and strong. A flag on the bow whips and snaps. I snug my windbreaker around me.What would happen if I never wrote another word for someone else to read? Never took another photo for others to view? Never came Back?
Probably not a lot. People might talk about me. They might not. I don't really have to have a reason to do anything. I don't need to explain why why why anymore. I only need to know what...what's my next move? And then trust and do it.
I wander into the cafeteria to order a lunch of curry chicken and rice and giggle over the onboard Insect-O-Cutor in the galley. Across the dining room, a couple tries to deal with their screeching offspring. I've been astonished at how little I've been bothered by kids and infants on this trip. Wailing babies, crying children, tantrum tots, pre-teens on a rampage--I watch them with tolerance now instead of impatience. Therapy has done good things for me...given me the chance to receive that which I begrudged all other children whom I came across before.
I watch the Paps of Jura, three smooth mounds of granite, get larger as we pull through the channel between Islay and Jura to dock the big boat on Islay. The Jura ferry begins to motor over from the west, looking and sounding like a rubber-band-powered toy boat BbbbBbbbbBbbb-ing across the water. I wait for the five cars to drive on--they fill up her deck--and then walk onto the platform alongside the day's mailbag and two other foot passengers with their rolling luggage and backpack. The engine roars up, smoke churns out, and the metal deck vibrates beneath my feet.My questions today: Who am I? What did I come here to be or do?
And the answer comes: It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter which way you turn, which way you go. You'll always end up right where you're supposed to be. Leave. Go. Stay. It doesn't matter, so long as you're still following your Self. Stand by your Self. That's what's important. That's what you need to tend to. Do things "by your Self." As in next to your Self, guided only by your Self. It's OK to do this trip by your Self. Be alone or not alone as times and events dictate. But definitely always be "by" your Self.
I've been afraid to go inside on this trip. To meet my Self that way.
Fear not. Your Self loves you, is Love itself. Step into the Void. Self awaits with loving, open arms.
I've been afraid of this before.
Yes. Are you ready this time?
Yes. I'm ready this time.
Then let Me introduce you.
The little ferry Eileen Dhiura chugs to the dock at Jura, and Gwen with her minibus are waiting.
