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October 3Ost- London, UK and staying at Pete's house
I'll start this post with a true and singular pledge: one to never write another post like the last one you had to suffer though- so flat, so emotionless. I admit I was tired, and just wanted to reach out for the sake of others and not to put effort into any sort of reflection- which is doing myself a disjustice most of all. Therein lies the unauthentic travel blabber that doesn't get to the heart of things- a travel log versus a travel journel. If I'm honest, which I intend to be from here on out, there has already been struggles of the mind and twinges of doubt, I know people have expectations of what this trip should be and I want to live up to them- I don't want to miss anything- and in the end am putting too much pressure on what should be a natural process. What I'm learning is although the scenery has been and will continue to be amazing- that doesn't mean that all will always be perfect on this solo mission. But if days end mostly as they did today, it's a reminder that faith can be lost, but easily regained when open to unexpected aides.
Having no clue of what the day would bring, I woke up with aching calves feeling slightly unsure of another complete day of walking- perhaps why I didn't leave the house until noon? I did manage to find my way into the city and to Big Ben (the parliament) and Westminster Abbey but definitely took the long way, ie: following any sign when I came to it rather than a map (because I am terrible with maps and didn't trust my own sense of direction) when I next headed to Buckingham Palace. Upon arrival at all destinations I truly appreciated the handiwork of all these known monuments- Big Ben so stately, the Abbey so incredibly ornate and the Buckingham Palace so cookie cutter regal with the toy soldier guards out front. Yet, of course being me, I could not just stop there and I decided since I was "so close" that I would walk to Hyde Park and, while in Hyde Park, to the speakers corner. For those not aware of the speakers corner, it is meant to be the place where people come to air their grievences publicly. On this day, apparently, no one had anything to gripe about so I had to admit disappointment as I had come all that way to see what the big deal was. But as I sat in a chair in Hyde Park overlooking the water a thought came to me- why was it really a big deal and why did it matter? After all, I wasn't huge on complaining or on people being too one-sided on any matter.
In just checking off the boxes. What was I doing really, being a tourist or plotting my course. I knew what I wanted but it can be so easy to get distracted from your own way, so hard to stay on track.
I had earlier thought to make my way back to Westminster Abbey for their night mass- this seemed like a good idea. I got more than a little lost, was completely disoriented, it was getting dark (which it does around 4 in London presently) and I'm started to wonder why it was so hard to ask for help- I'm in an English speaking country of all places- this should be the easy one. Something about me just didn't want to admit to not being a capable navigator as time ticks away I fear I will miss the service. Finally breaking down I ask a lovely girl, a local who just so happens to have a map that she gives me, pointing me in the right direction- I make it to the Abbey with LITERALLY a minute to spare.
Winded and tired I make my way to the pew, wondering if I'll be able to stay awake. As soon as I hear the choir voices, as soon as it really settles in where I am- my eyes divert to the majesty of the ceiling- how could I ever take this divine moment in time for granted? Closing my eyes to take in every chord, to relish the scripture- opening them again to gaze at the grand gothic stature, repeating and repeating this cycle until the mass ends. I feel so overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, its hard to feel a thing.
As the mass ends we are escourted out, passing by an old woman handing out mini leaflets to all exiters. I accept it then walk up to stare at the offering candles burning, still to out of my element, to entranced by the situation to notice when a small figure appears on my left. "Are you alone?", asks the elderly voice- the one of the woman that had been distributing the pamphlets. I proceed to explain that I was staying with a friend but at the moment was by myself. She tells me to remember that London is a big place, to be careful. When I ask her if she is a volunteer, she says she hands the literature out at every mass to remind people that the church is a Christian one and not just a visitor destination. How often, I'm sure, her importance is overlooked. But she is a reminder of the true purpose of a place so often thought of only for its grandeaur and scale. She sends me along with a "God Bless" and another pamphlet for to pass along to my friend. I am unspeakably moved. My own, true emotion makes me feel alive again- its overwhelmingly beautiful.
I headed to drinks to celebrate Pete's PHD, but didn't drink a thing- I wanted to feel what I was feeling- at times I suppose we all need to do that.
Cheers,
Emily
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