“it’s because he’s the sun, the source of all light in the universe, and you’re just the moon with no light of your own.“
I have been the sun shining so brightly that you lit up as well. But I was greedy, self-involved, callous to your pleas for your own two feet. I couldn’t hear your voice because mine was too loud and I loved the sound of it more than I did yours. I couldn’t hear your suffering because I believed I was the only one who had a right to be the victim. I forced you to be a martyr for my cause, not yours. I stripped you naked of everything I didn’t like about myself, absorbed your “good parts” as if they were my own. I tipped the balance of justice so that I appeared the one who was rightly outraged. I was repulsed by your actions because they were exactly what I would do if I weren’t so vain to believe I was superior to you. I held your confidence because that was in our agreement. You held mine because that’s who you wanted to be, or rather who “I” wanted you to be. For all of that, I hope you can forgive my recklessness, my rejection, my lack of confidence in who you were born to be. I beg for your grace and mercy that I refused to offer you, or myself, while I preyed on my own foibles as a pathetic excuse for a relationship with you.
My ancestral wisdom is tangible in my sunburnt skin, tasted on my compassionate tongue, washed in glorious joy, baptized in horrific sorrow. I am spirit ever expanding, heated with a desire to be loved, buried in the beaches of hourglass sands using a cracked red plastic bucket and a too small yellow shovel. I’m thirsty for knowledge, recumbent in peace. I am decayed by grief with only a mildly offensive odor. I have rebuilt myself, my life, my dreams with non-stock aftermarket replacement parts out of every past me I’ve ever been.
Ever since I redundantly discovered gravity, I’ve been having weird things happen. From getting violently sick to throwing myself into the closet in my sleep. I’ve been tending to repeat stories. I’ve been tending to repeat stories (heehee). And the headache feels like a hangover that won’t go away. At least that is now a low-grade feeling now as long as I’m religious about the tylenol.
The most inconvenient of the side effects has been sleeping. I’ve discovered by trial and error that I need to stay as unstimulated as possible (within reason). Overstimulation makes my head hurt more, essentially wiping out my spoons.
I purposefully saved up my spoons to go visit with my Beastie Diane. I brought over gifts for her and her puppers. I also brought my laundry. I got the clothes in the washer, sat down on the couch to chat with Diane and engaged in lively conversation. I heard the washer sing after it was done. I put the clothes in the dryer.
I returned to my seat on the couch, popped up the feet and shared more conversation. She likes to watch true crime shows and comedies. Today was a marathon of murders. The victim was white. I blinked my eyes and the victim was black. I had fallen asleep for over an hour. She was able to take a shower, clean her bunny room, and take care of other chores she had.
Dudes, I was so embarrassed. It’s just not something I expected. I have been falling asleep more frequently and for longer periods, but I’d purposefully prepared. It wasn’t enough. She thought it was amusing so she didn’t wake me. I still snore though but she said it wasn’t as loud as it used to be. I guess that’s a plus.
I need to grant myself grace. I didn’t have a light head injury. I broke four bones in my face. My brain rattled around in my skull pretty good which is probably where the headaches are coming from. It’s hard to discover limitations that weren’t there before. It’s difficult to accept that this is not something I have control over.
Abiding is all I can do. Laugh at the ridiculousness of my life while loving myself. Forgive myself for my tendency to repeat stories. (Buwahahaha!)
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved.
My last day in Portugal, in Europe, in Lisbon. What to do? Well, since I don’t do well with tourist transportation, I decided on a walk about. There were a couple sites nearby where I’m staying that I wanted to check out. With my FINALLY dry favorite Blowfish shoes on my feet, shorts and a t-shirt (It was really that warm out), I headed out. I’m going to mention that I took all the medication I was prescribed for the pain so I was okay to observe the world around me.
I walked the riverside until I reached the pedestrian crossover. I shared a picture yesterday of what I had to cross. It was not busy. I climbed up the ramp and crossed over. The walkover exits nearby the coach museum I shared with you. I walked to the left.
I poked my head into a few shops, bought a bucket hat since I can’t wear my transition lenses for very long, grabbed some coins, and took my time.
That bridge is incredibly high up and looks similar to the Golden Gate Bridge, but this particular version has a bonus feature of a train that runs on the lower level.
I walked through the Jardim Afonso de Albuquerque. At the four corners of the large park, there are four unique statues of women. In the center of the park is a tall spire with a statue on the top. I giggled because a seagull took a rest on the head of the statue,
I strolled the tourist strip ducking out into a park at the end of the first strip.
I visited the Pavilhao Sala Thai which is located inside the Jardim Vasco da Gama. It was pretty, but I was rather underimpressed. I thought it would be bigger.
A prayer for peace and I wandered towards the fountain in the middle of the Praca do Imperio Garden. I’d seen it at night from the Padrao dos Descobrimentos (Explorer’s monument). It lights up in different colors as the water spouts shoot into the night.
I sat watching the people and the fountain for quite a while. I was listening to Fado music in my earbuds. If you’ve not heard of Fado music, try Amalia. Her voice is top hat.
I made my way over to the Centro Cultural Belem. Art fascinates me. I didn’t take any pictures because I wanted to not be a tourist. I wanted to be in the moment, taking it all in. I was not disappointed.
I strolled over to the Museu de Marinha but didn’t go in. The outside park had ship anchors displayed. They were massive. Taller and thicker than I am. At the back of the museum courtyard was a Planetario de Marinha but there weren’t any shows available to see. I went dancing down the Praca do Imperio road.
I passed by the Mosteiro dos Jeronimos. The exterior was much different than the churches I saw in France. There was ornamentation, but not overly so. The building is a World Heritage listed Gothic monastary.
One of the Presidential Guard. I’m sorry I didn’t get a closer picture but he and his fellow guard stood at attention while I watched them from afar.
I returned to the boat. I’m heading up to take a shower and change into my travel clothes. I’ll pack up my things and have them ready to exit the boat tomorrow morning. I’m already fussing with myself about what to leave behind so I can bring my goodies back home. Small living is difficult to do.
Other than nausea and a bit of a headache, I’m doing okay. I took a short nap when I got back, so I’m relatively rested. Tomorrow I get to sleep in my own bed. I get to see my pup and my kitty. I get to see my son. I get to see familiar sights. I get to see friends (picking me up from the airport). Life is good.
OH! I wrote a letter to the man who races his boat. I thanked him for the invitation to sail. I expressed my regret of not being able to fulfill that invitation. I used Google Translate to write it. I hope I didn’t say anything completely wrong.
May peace find you wherever you are or go. You are loved.
I woke up this morning, not because I was done sleeping, but my bladder was urgently letting me know it was time. I folded myself out of bed with a huff and a sigh. I opened the hatch to a warm morning. It wasn’t hot, but I didn’t need a jacket to make my way.
I was bleary eyed with lack of sleep. I stumbled my way back to the boat. I climbed aboard and looked up as I entered the hatch. HOLY CRAP! What in the world had I been missing?!
A few days ago, my housesitter asked me what the sunrise looks like here. I had no idea. This morning I found out.
The air smelled so fresh, the breeze was balmy, the boat was barely moving. It was a perfect setup for my morning communion with the Nectar of the Gods.
There is an old adage that says, “Red skies at night, sailor’s delight. Red skies at morning, sailor’s take warning. Dudes, it’s true. A couple hours after this the skies went dark. The wind picked up to a pretty steady 27mph with gusts up to 39mph. The temperature stayed in the lower 60’s. It stayed that way for hours. I had to plan my trip to the bathroom in clothing that I could dry quickly on hangers. Even with that, it was drenching.
What I couldn’t get done today, I’ll have to squish into tomorrow. Tile pickup, laundry, packing, and, if the weather holds, a sunset sightseeing tour up the river. It starts in the marina to the west of me by one. Scooter rider I shall be.
I did get my train ticket to go visit friends in southern Portugal on Thursday. I even figured out how to get to the train station. Honestly, I haven’t felt brave enough to venture onto the public transportation system here although it’s quite extensive and there are a variety of ways to go. I don’t know what my problem is here when I had no issue whatsoever in France. Maybe I’m just tired and need to go home to process and decompress.
Note: If you’re an excessively gassy person or if you eat something that causes that, do NOT sleep in a tiny cabin. You will dutch oven yourself. Don’t ask me how I know this.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
Mare Martell 