The last 9 months or so had been stressful. The searing hot, tense summer had given way to a miserable, dank monsoon, followed by a dreary autumn. The cold, grey, mist laden fingers of winter had been tortuous too and one was not living…merely existing from one day to another in a haze of fatigue both emotional and physical.
Life had been full of trials and I seemed now only to be waiting for the next crisis to loom for me to get into problem solving mode-that’s all I had been doing….handling, coping, existing.
And then, in a wholly unexpected way, a casual conversation at work lead to a completely unanticipated trip out-of-town. The logistics fell into place almost miraculously and I was on my way.
It was an idyllic setting in the hills, with spectacular golden sunrises and soothing peachy-pink sunsets. Flowers smiled at us as we walked around the resort and in the distance, the lake twinkled like a rippling shade card for blue. Birdsong surrounded us and a gentle, soothing breeze drifted around like a benevolent spirit, laying rest to some demons.
Well known, eminent, talented, passionate, respected and talented in their field. Some teachers, some students, some-like me- just observers and facilitators.
Each one though was a teacher for me. Their conversation was stimulating and thought-provoking. Their talent and intelligence sometimes overwhelming. Their humility, humbling. Their passion for their craft an education. Their humour sharp and wholesome and present in ALL of them without exception. They were Manna from heaven for my laughter starved, conversation craving soul.
Some were whacky. Some were quiet. Most were warm. One odd one was somewhat standoffish but my internal jury is still out on that one! They are all special for me, but some a little more so.
They were my Cure.
…… will sustain me forever.
The singing session around the miniscule bonfire. The songs-some of them. The trek down to the lake. The meals. The jokes. The dancing with abandon. The indulgent (or was it empathetic) Dutch courage conversation. Being comforted when I wept a little. The gentle ribbing about it thereafter. Being remembered from a long ago interaction.
Like a warm, soft blanket of happiness, I’ll wrap these recollections around me and chase away the chill from my heart.
And forever look at some photographs and smile-mistily I’m sure—-remembering my Cure. My spring of healing and hope.
“Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being.”
― Albert Schweitzer