If
life is the greatest journey of all, then last week I went on one small
pilgrimage within my life’s odyssey. Of course, a pilgrimage is usually thought
of as a religious undertaking; the process of travelling for religious reasons
to somewhere held to be sacred. My pilgrimage was not truly a religious one,
but more spiritual in nature; meaning the seeking of something or somewhere
that elevates my sense of well-being.
There
are several such places I can rely on for spiritual sustenance. One of these is
nearer to home; being the entire North Yorkshire Dales. I have often joked
that, during the week, my body can be found working in North Lincolnshire
whilst my soul is freely roaming around the Yorkshire Dales. When time allows,
I don walking boots and a back pack and stride into the dales where, with a
sigh of pleasure and a great sense of freedom, my soul re-joins my body and I
am once again as one with the world around me.
If
that seems a trifle odd, you may then find it hard to believe that a small
portion of my soul also lives in the remote and deserted mountain village of
Vouni in Cyprus. With a chequered history that includes being a centre for EOKA
(the National Organisation of Cypriot Fighters, who fought a campaign for the
end of British rule of Cyprus) the village was down to a population of about
136 in 2001. Most of the old stone houses are now empty, abandoned and
crumbling; with the cobbled streets echoing to little more than the occasional
footsteps of the inquisitive traveller.
However,
despite its past, there is one stone house that held my attention when I first
stumbled across it a few years ago. Tucked away in a narrow side street, it
stands as a detached sentinel, waiting. Lizards have been its only inhabitants
for some years; the paint on its shutters is peeling, and the doors are held
fast by rusty bolts. A balcony adorns the first floor at the front, appearing
to stay in place more by an act of levitation than any means of construction;
whilst a rambling bougainvillea entwines the whole in its rose-red petals. It
is a potential haven just waiting for a writer or artist; its empty rooms
echoing to the sound of chatter and untold stories amidst filtered beams of
sunlight. I was smitten at first sight; so much so that a small portion of my
soul was left there, recumbent in the shade of its courtyard.
We
all need places of retreat, where we can recharge our batteries. However, we do
not need to own them to experience their life-enhancing power. Neither do we
always need to travel far; it may be somewhere very close to home that works
for you. For the sake of physical and mental health, it is important to find
that place, or those places in your life, and to tap into their revitalising
power from time to time.
First published in the Scunthorpe
Telegraph, 30 May 2013
© Copyright Robert M Jaggs-Fowler 2013
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