Into the Great Wide Open

I step forward into a different place. It always feels like it’s for the first time, but I know I’ve been here before. I can see it, smell it, touch it, hear it and taste it all in one brief heartbeat. I breathe it in. I’ve learned to trust its pace, its nuanced way of doing things, and the little peculiarities that make it such a friendly street to inhabit. It used to frighten me but not anymore. I know now that the beauty present there lies in the danger it brings. Here my vulnerability stares right back at me. Here I have learned to embrace what it offers as I fall into its loving arms.

It’s taught me some valuable lessons. On the other side of fear lies hope. It’s always darkest before the dawn. Every end comes wrapped up in a new beginning. Everything is a choice, even when it isn’t. Change is always possible. Make sure to set and keep strong boundaries. Drink lots of water. Surround yourself with good people who genuinely care for you no matter what happens. Live, learn, and when the time is right, move on if you have to. Be patient, Rome wasn’t built in a day. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Isn’t that what they say? The journey really is the destination. Do your very best to dance even when it’s raining hard. You need to be yourself and no one else. We have Noel and Liam to thank for that one. Rely on nobody but yourself. Tender is the night. A tick in the credit column for Blur. When the shit hits the fan make sure you’re standing well back. Keep it simple. And last but not least courtesy of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, all you need is love. There’s plenty more but that’s more than enough to be going on with.

Often when grey clouds hover overhead, their shadow can be hard to avoid. But now that I know what lies beyond it’s easier. I can see the light in the darkness. It is here that hope lives. It might present itself in a simple smile, a generous handshake, or a moment of understanding from a stranger making for a better day. It is here that a butterfly flaps its wings for the first time and flies. It is here in the great wide open that possibility unfolds. Tom Petty spoke so lovingly of this space. In Tom’s mind, it stretched forever beyond the horizon. It was here that Tom turned words and melody into magic. It is here that we fall in love with everything.

Knowing it is one thing, taking the necessary steps towards doing it is quite another. Like The Killers’ line in Human, I tend to get a little nervous when I see an open door. I know how much bravery it takes to finally cut the cord. It took me seven years. I worked in a place for a long time knowing deep down it was not for me until I stepped away. And even having done so I foolishly tried to go back, but thankfully they wouldn’t have me. Maybe they could see what I couldn’t. It turned out to be a favour I will never be able to return because when I walked out of there for the final time I knew that I would never return. The memories are still too raw and too strong.

Stepping out into the great wide open upended me with its uncertainty. Up until then, life had followed a predictable path. Suddenly here I was giving up the holy grail of the permanent pensionable job, the holidays, the whole shebang that comes with teaching. I’ll admit I found it hard to breathe. I made mistakes because it was so hard to trust the journey. I had cast myself adrift, hundreds of miles outside of my comfort zone and it unnerved me. It lifted me up but also got me down. Pretty soon I knew I was on my own, that no one could help me except myself. But I wouldn’t know that until much later. It was up to me to find my way forward to who and where I wanted to be. I lost people along the way. Some of them gave up on me. Some I had to leave behind. I met new friends who guided me and taught me to trust in gentle kindness and made me laugh again. There were those who didn’t understand and left, but there were also those who didn’t understand and stayed. And then there were the silent ones who said nothing because they didn’t know what to say. I went to dark places, but throughout there was always a flicker of light to guide me home.

When I first arrived in the Middle East I used to walk the streets of Riyadh at night listening to music with my headphones on when the sun went down and the heat was finally bearable. Here I was in a strange city surrounded by people who were different from everything I had previously experienced, and yet I have never felt so safe. I learned to fall in love with music again, the hypnotic beat matching the strides I was taking towards recovery, one small step at a time. It was here I felt the potential of the great wide open. There was a curiosity and generosity in the smiles that greeted me as I walked by. Ireland felt small in comparison. I was tired of the straight-jacket thrown over its people by church and state. I felt it as a child and I feel it still. I needed a break from the fear-based narrative peddled by the media after the economic crash.

I needed to find myself again. I had toyed with writing before, but now I began in earnest. I was making a cup of tea in the kitchen in Riyadh when Johnny Tattoo popped into my head. He’s been living there ever since. Elizabeth from It’s Always Now joined him soon afterward. These characters followed me everywhere, demanding that I give voice to their story. To do so I had to step outside of myself. To trust in the words when they came. To write them down without question. To surrender to the flow. To let go of judgment. To write for them instead of myself or anyone else. It was a time to let go.

I felt the rush as the words came without thought. I became accustomed to picking up a pen and paper in the middle of the night to write them down before they lost themselves to sleep. I learned the importance of carrying the necessary tools with me when I was out, and about. Coffee shops became places of refuge and inspiration where I honed my craft. Unlike some of the other areas of my life writing was an effortless and calm experience where I flowed effortlessly downstream. It was easy on a Sunday morning no matter what day of the week it happened to be. I’d go to the diplomatic quarter In Riyadh and sit in Starbucks and write. It reminded me of looking out the classroom window when I was younger, a time when my mind craved the possibility of something else. It was in school that I first developed a curiosity for what existed beyond the conservative boundaries of what we were being taught to think and what we were being told.

The great wide open is a goldmine of ideas, dreams, and easy thoughts. It’s a comfortable place. A place you’ll want to return to again and again once you’ve tasted its nectar for the first time. There can be no going back to existing without it. It cures the soul and eases the mind into a parallel universe where our consciousness slows to a natural flow. It is here we reconnect with the spirit we were born with. It is here we can really be who we are supposed to be. There is a welcome absence of outside noise as the wind whistles across the wide expanse called opportunity.

It is here that the musician first hears the melody. It is here that the reader turns the page. It is here that the words begin to form in the writer’s imagination. It is here that the artist‘s thoughts connect in a splash of colour to hit the canvas. It is here that we are lost in the moment. It is here that the office worker leaning against an outside wall takes the initial pull of a cigarette and lets the morning’s annoyances go. It’s the footballer choosing the perfect pass. It’s that moment when the dancer turns on a sixpence and the audience erupts into applause. It’s that moment when we forget everything else. Disconnected from reality we slip into place. It is here that we breathe effortlessly.

It is here in this wide-open space that we know what it is to be at peace.