Author Archive

(Image from Love of Scotland.)

I once took a great, one might even say magnificent, fall down a long metal staircase in a castle ruin in Scotland. I met a Spirit of some kind on the way down, which may or may not explain why I survived a fall that should have killed me, and that’s the story I’m going to tell now.

My husband (who prefers a pseudonym so, online, I call him the LovelyMan or the LM) and I took our first trip to Scotland in 1993. The LM was combining business with pleasure, which was how we were able to afford the trip at the time. We spent our first week in Glasgow, taking the occasional day trip by train to places such as Sterling and Edinburgh. Our second week we rented a car and set off with a rough itinerary, wandering and following recommendations of the locals.

Early in our first week we stopped at a Tourist Information Center (TIC) in the Muckle Toon ‘O’ Langholm in the Scottish Borders area. Every morning we would locate a TIC in order to book our room in a B&B for the upcoming night. The LM and I don’t usually travel in such a seat-of-the-pants manner. That’s what made this trip all the more fun. We were never quite sure where we would end up.

At the TIC in the Muckle Toon ‘O’ Langholm we booked our room and then spent some time chatting with James, the man who helped us with the booking. After a bit of back and forth about Mary Queen of Scots (I had read a hefty biography about her before our trip), James suggested we visit Hermitage Castle. As it was sort of on our way (or at least not completely out of our way), we decided to follow James’ advice and directions.

We set out on our adventure by following our first example of the narrow single-track country roads in Scotland. The road did a lot of winding through a rolling countryside where the primary inhabitants seemed to be sheep. The weather was typical of what we had been experiencing: rain with sunny spells. It was a misty rain with ground fog creeping and crawling over the hillocks, creating a mysteriously beautiful atmosphere.

We didn’t encounter any other vehicles on that road to Hermitage. We had to stop once or twice to wait for the sheep to clear out of the road, a novel experience for us.

The rain had stopped but it was still cloudy and gloomy when we arrived at Hermitage Castle. The weather and ground fog added to the castle’s grim appearance. The castle is next to Hermitage Water and is surrounded by bleak and open moorland. Although not that far from civilization, it did seem very remote. I read somewhere that Radio Scotland once described the castle as the embodiment of “sod off” in stone. It certainly seems to give off that message.

There were no other tourists there. The only person around was the castle’s caretaker, Patrick, who gave us a little information about the castle, took our admissions fee, and sold us a guidebook.

The LM and I walked down the path that led to the castle, guide book in hand, admiring this big hunk. The weather cleared, the sun came out and it looked like it would be a nice day after all. Best of all, we had the place all to ourselves. We were off the beaten tourist path.

Inside the castle ruin we meandered around, awed by the sight of our first castle ruin. We noticed a set of metal stairs leading up to what would be, in these times, the third floor (just to give you some of idea of height). There was a bird’s nest up there and the LM wanted to go up and have a look around so up we climbed. When we got to the top I took a few photos and then decided I wanted some from ground level. I started down the metal staircase. My foot slipped a bit and I said to the LM, “Be careful going down. The stairs are very slippery.”

Famous last words. Well, ok, not last words. I wouldn’t be writing this now if they were.

I turned around, started down, and my feet went sliding out from under me. What happened next was pretty much a blur as far as the ride down the stairs. I somehow managed to maintain an upright position, sliding and bumping down, hanging on to the railing, which was as slippery as the stairs, for dear life. I know I was going down with great speed yet it seemed to take forever. In fact, time did stop at one point. Even my husband, who doesn’t like to speak of such things, thought something “odd” had happened as I neared the bottom. His sense of time slowing and standing still parallels mine, but I think his was more about fear. He later said he thought for sure he’d be taking me home in a body bag.

I was nearing the bottom of the stairs, having cut one finger and torn off the fingernail of another, when I realized I was about to slam into a 400-year-old wall. At the speed I was moving down the stairs, the meeting of my body and the wall was not going to be a pleasant experience for me. The wall, I was sure, would survive it. As for me, I didn’t think it likely I would live through it, much less walk away. I had a lot of time to think this out in spite of that speed. Time had slowed…

… and two or three steps from the bottom time stopped.

I don’t know where I went or who I met. It was a woman, that’s for sure. At first I felt this incredible warmth as I moved through an amazingly brilliant and beautiful light. I thought at the time “Oh, I must have died on the way down.” There was no fear at all in that thought.

This is the part everyone wants to know about. I don’t mean to be a tease, but I honestly don’t remember what happened here other than I met and spoke with a Spirit. Was she Divine? I don’t know. Perhaps she was a spirit of the castle or of the land for which I felt a great affinity, as if I’d come home, the home of my soul. I do feel, and have always felt, that she introduced me to the concept of a Goddess because it was from this point that my spiritual path changed. Shortly after this event I began to study Goddess religions.

I think I spent a bit of time outside of time, outside of this world. And when it was time, I was back in the fall only something had changed. I hit a cushion of warm air that slowed my fall so that by the time I hit the wall, I just grazed it with my nose instead of smashing my face into it. I walked away with a smudge of dirt on my nose, a cut finger, a very sore right hand (from where it hit the wall), and the loss of most of a fingernail.

A small price to pay for an incredible experience.

I spent the rest of the trip seeing things out of different eyes. I think I’ve spent the rest of my life seeing things out of different eyes. There’s a beauty to life that wasn’t there before. I forget that from time to time. My eyes tire or my mind is out of tune. There have also been times when I regret having left wherever it was I went and find myself yearning to feel that warmth and that light. Then I remember I carried a small bit of that out with me and it’s there whenever I want to feel it.

We’ve been back to Scotland once since then. I can’t wait to go again. Just as I think I carried a small piece of the land back with me, I’m pretty sure I left a small bit of myself there. Everything seems complete, joined, when I’m there.

(Enthusiastic Exploration. Photo by Robin)

No one keeps up his enthusiasm automatically. Enthusiasm must be nourished with new actions, new aspirations, new efforts, new vision. Compete with yourself; set your teeth and dive into the job of breaking your own record. It is one’s own fault if his enthusiasm is gone; he has failed to feed it. ~ Papyrus

I have such a large quote collection and any one of them could be or happened to be my favorite at one time or another. This one about enthusiasm is my current favorite.

I’ve been in the midst of a lot of changes over the past several months. Some of those changes involve my health. Rather than jump right into surgery and medications, I made the decision to be proactive by taking charge of my health and my life, making lifestyle changes that will hopefully bring the desired results (so far, so good!). If you’ve ever made lifestyle changes, you know that some days are easy but most days you’re plodding along and something trips you up and next thing you know, you’re back to old ways and bad habits, wondering why you started this self-improvement project in the first place.

When I quit smoking (what seems like a lifetime ago, but it was only 6 years), I learned that the only way I could succeed was by remaining positive about the change no matter what. No matter what happened in life, no matter how bad the cravings got, no matter how much easier it might have been to give up. Bad cravings were fended off with positive thoughts, laughter, or general overall craziness if that’s what it took (I once took a killer craving, mentally shot it out into space, and wondered if there was some creature on another planet suddenly hit by nicotine cravings crying out “I want a cigarette!” and then wondering what the heck a cigarette is and why he was craving it). I kept myself from smoking by making a long and ongoing list called “The Joys of Quitting.” That list was a lifeline of enthusiasm for me. It reminded me of why I was quitting and why it was worth it to get through the moment and the craving. I nurtured and nourished my quit every single day (still do), continually feeding my enthusiasm.

For health reasons I’ve recently changed my diet and have taken on an ambitious exercise program. I had to start with very small steps, working my way up to where I am now. There were days when I didn’t want to leave my bed. I use this quote to get me up and get me moving.

On the days I couldn’t do much physically, I started learning how to do new things. I’m learning how to draw and paint. My drawings and paintings are very childlike, but so is my enthusiasm for them. I get excited watching something appear on a blank sheet of paper, even if that something isn’t what I originally visualized, even if that something will never be considered a Great Work.

Every day I feed my enthusiasm for life, for love, for my health, for my healing, and for my Self. It keeps me going, even on those days when all I want to do is quit.

~ Robin

(Photo by Robin. 2006)

I saw on the news that Punxsutawney Phil (the famous groundhog from Pennsylvania in the U.S.) came out of his burrow on Gobbler’s Knob today and predicted that we can expect an early spring. Only six more weeks of winter, says Phil. Phil’s prognostication is based on the fact that he did not see his shadow. I’d have been amazed if he had. It’s a gray, gloomy, and overcast day.

Have you ever noticed that colors pop (really stand out) on gray, gloomy, and overcast days? I’ve always thought of it as the gift of the cloudy day, the way the colors become so brilliant (provided there’s no rain, mist or fog to dull them).

But I digress. Phil’s prediction (taken from the official website) is as follows:

Phil’s official forecast as read 2/2/07 at 7:28 a.m. at Gobbler’s Knob:

El Nino has caused high winds, heavy snow, ice and freezing temperatures in the west.
Here in the East with much mild winter weather we have been blessed.

Global warming has caused a great debate.
This mild winter makes it seem just great.

On this Groundhog Day we think of one thing.
Will we have winter or will we have spring?

On Gobbler’s Knob I see no shadow today.
I predict that early spring is on the way.

Of course it’s read in Groundhogese first, then translated into English by one of the Inner Circle. It’s interesting to note that since 1887 when the first official visit to Gobbler’s Knob took place, Phil has seen his shadow 96 times, no shadow 15 times, and no record exists for the remaining 9 times. Looks like early springs are hard to come by.

For those wanting to do a little weather prognostication of their own, here’s an old Scottish poem to help you out:

As the light grows longer

The cold grows stronger

If Candlemas be fair and bright

Winter will have another flight

If Candlemas be cloud and rain

Winter will be gone and not come again

A farmer should on Candlemas day

Have half his corn and half his hay

On Candlemas day if thorns hang a drop

You can be sure of a good pea crop

(Photo by Robin. 2006)

In China, the flower meanings for the peony are happy marriage and most beautiful.

I’m new here, but from what I’ve picked up I believe Darryl and Heather had a combination of the two, making for a most beautiful happy marriage.

Happy trails, Darryl.

(Mural on Tommy’s Joint in San Francisco. April 2006. Photo by Robin)

Hungry and in need of lunch, I wander into the Taverna di Muse to find they do, indeed, serve great big beautiful sandwiches.

On the menu today:

• Hoagie (Philly area in the U.S.): Italian meats (ham, cappicola, and salami) and cheese (a good, aged provolone) served on a wonderous roll that can only be found in the Philadelphia area, filled with lettuce, tomatoes, and onions, seasoned with oregano, oil, and vinegar. Hot cherry peppers optional.
• Bacon butty (U.K): Bacon on buttered brown bread. Served with or without brown sauce. May substitute the Chip butty: A liberal serving of chips (french fries) sandwiched between two slices of buttered white bread. Sauce (tomato, brown, chip-shop curry) available upon request.
• Gyros (Greece): Lamb or chicken served on pita bread with tzatziki, tomato, and onion.
• Tea sandwiches: Available today — Watercress; egg and mayo; smoked salmon; cucumber; fruit jam; and curried chicken. Mix and match sandwiches as desired.
• Sandwiches de miga (Argentina): A Taverna di Muse special guaranteed to fuel you up for the nighttime tango. Miga (a thin, crustless white bread) filled with thinly sliced meats, cheese, tomatoes, eggs, green peppers, lettuce, and asparagus, slathered with mayonnaise.
• Barros Luco (Chile): Beef and melted cheese.
• Sandwich mixto (Cuba): Also known as the Cuban Pressed Sandwich. Made with Cuban bread, liberally buttered on both sides, filled with dill pickles, roast pork that was marinated in mojo (a garlic/citrus marinade) and slow roasted, ham, and swiss cheese, all pressed and heated until the cheese is melted. Served the traditional way with yellow mustard. Sorry, no mayo on this one or it wouldn’t be traditional!
• PB&J: Peanut butter and jelly. Your choice of jelly, jam, or preserves.

Don’t see something on the menu you’d like? Please feel free to add to it. I’m sure the Taverna can provide, both real and fanciful.

(Thanks to Wikipedia as a source of information on various sandwiches.)