Choosing my path

I'm at the bookstore browsing through travel books in search for something. What, I don't know. And then, suddenly, there it is. Staring right at me. Seven letters; the word most familiar to me. My name. My Irish name, which I never encounter here in The Netherlands. A heatwave rushes through my body — pure excitement. This is it. I've found what I came looking for.

The Tóchar Phádraig. A 1500-year-old pilgrim path in western Ireland. A one-day 34km walk through mystical Irish landscape that leads to Cruach Phádraig, a pyramid-shaped sacred mountain nicknamed "The Reek". How can I say no to that?

A quick search reveals I need to register with the Ballintubber Abbey Trust and I'm not allowed to walk it alone. They organise guided group walks and the last one this year leaves in four days, the 30th of August. The day before my birthday. Going then means I need to let all my family and friends know that my birthday plans this weekend are off, plus, I'll be alone in Ireland as I turn 37. Should I be doing this?

I feel resistance. My mind starts to rationalise and my body wants to get rid of the discomfort. And that's the giveaway. This is it and this is what I need to do now. I need to choose myself. This one's for me.

Recently, in therapy, I've been working on learning to put myself first. And here, an hour after my session and commitment to choose something for myself these days, the opportunity and test present themselves. Wow, this is too good to be true!

I book the flights, B&B, car, and tour, and I let everyone know my birthday plans this weekend are off. I'm off. I'm off walking The Tóchar Phádraig. I'm off walking my own path.

Three days later, booked, prepped and packed, I’m in the train to Amsterdam, and I open my inbox. Mail from the Abbey. My eyes lock on words and I don’t need to read any further. “Unfortunately due to heavy rain on Saturday...” Another heatwave. The walk’s off. This time it’s more powerful. It comes with a sense of disbelief.

My mind races and I switch into problem-solving mode. I analyse every scenario. Go anyway? Stay home? It’s creative, yet exhausting. My flight leaves in less than 12 hours. Deep down inside I already sense what I want to do, but it’s hard to grasp when my mind is in control. And mentally it’s hard to accept. A strong sense of loss.

And there it is, test number two. Accepting and daring to take what deeply feels like a loss. (But is it really?) A running theme through therapy too. Letting go. I’ll be honest, this wasn’t easy.

I’ve already invested so much! I chose myself, I’ve paid for everything, I’ve cancelled my birthday.

I go with the deep hidden gut feeling and I decide not to go. I do my best not to feel at a loss.

That night, I sleep over at my dad’s. The next day unfolds beautifully. We haven’t seen each other much lately, and I realise this unexpected time together is exactly what I needed. We walked in the park, talked about life, drove around the city in a Topelino and even went for a cheeky swim. This day is one I’ll remember.

In the evening I travel back home and my warm loving family is there, still awake, when I walk through the door. We hug and I feel like I missed them so much, even though I’ve only been away for 24 hours. A quiet voice whispers, but it’s more than words — it’s a feeling: I still haven’t walked.

Now, as I’m writing this final paragraph, the next morning and the day the pilgrim walk should’ve happened, I’m in the train — again. But this time, nothing’s going to stop me. I’m determined. After two difficult decisions and breaking through my patterns, I’ve made another choice. I’m walking today. One closer to home, one that feels fitting. The Walk of Wisdom. A 136 km walk around Nijmegen, and today I’m walking the first leg, 15.3 km.

I’m reflecting on the last few days, a whirlwind of emotions and changes. And I feel proud. Proud of how I’ve handled everything and that I didn’t give up my goal. And I feel deeply grateful. Grateful for the people who’ve supported me and those who’ve played a part in my life recently. If you’re reading this today, because I shared this story with you, you’re one of them. Thank you.

This story started as just a few paragraphs, but over the course of a few days turned into something much bigger and more reflective. And I haven’t even walked yet!

And now, I’m off. Walking the Walk of Wisdom with a little extra wisdom I picked up along my path.

Plus, tomorrow, I get to celebrate my birthday with family, with a new story to share. And somewhere in western Ireland, an old path still has my name on it.