A hesitant pilgrim in Medugorje…

December 8, 2024 / Denise / Leave a comment

Three years into my retirement I felt the need to explore my spirituality. I had never really been interested in pilgrimages as I feared the intensity of it – the non-stop prayers, attending multiple masses daily, being lectured to on religion, visiting church after church. Or so I envisioned it to be. I also feared not being touched. Touched in the sense of not receiving the graces so many had received on their own journey.

But more and more, my friends were talking about their personal experiences, always with wonder and excitement. I began to listen. To put my hesitation aside and open my heart and mind to the possibilities. During my many previous travels I had visited Fatima in Portugal in my early twenties but purely as a place to see with no real interest in the appearance of the Blessed Virgin Mary to the young children. There was once a pilgrimage movement to Betania in Venezuela but I was never so inclined to visit. I guess I just wasn’t ready.

Medugorje however, had always intrigued me. A similar story of the Blessed Virgin Mary appearing to the little children but somehow it felt different. Maybe because it was happening in my lifetime, but I wanted to give it a try. One year in the making, with many questions asked of those who had already visited, books being read and my many must-haves and mustn’t-haves in place, I set out with close friends. Clearing my mind, I went with no expectations whatsoever.

We had joined a tour group which fit my requirements. Engaging all the right touch points, sharing enough information to pique your interest, offering enough free time to wonder on my own, affording the opportunity at all times to be as engaged as you decided to be. Initially I took on the role of spectator. Watching, listening, going through the motions. Opening my mind and my heart to whatever.

Surprisingly it didn’t take long to get into the groove and to move from spectator to full-fledged pilgrim. I soon began to feel happy, honoured, excited, to be referred to as a pilgrim. To experience what it truly meant to witness and be part of a community with such a strong faith. Where, in Medugorje, their daily life reflects their belief in a God who loves them. A life steeped in the tradition of worshipping the Risen Lord and paying homage to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Where daily mass is a lifestyle. Where honouring the apparitions by re-living the experience of the young children many years ago is part and parcel of who you are. Where doctrines of prayer are passed down from generation to generation without resistance. A small community living their faith. A small community with no crime.

We visited the Blue Cross where the Virgin Mary warned the children of the impending danger of the ‘blue angels’ (police) who were looking for them. Climbed Apparition Hill where the Blessed Virgin Mary first appeared to the children, stopping at the Wooden Cross erected in honour of the Virgin’s message of peace to Mirjana –

“Peace peace peace only peace. There must be peace. Between God and man and Between man and mankind.”

We set off early one morning to climb Cross Mountain stopping to pray the Stations of the Cross along the way. While it was physically challenging, it has left a lasting impression in my heart.

And even though I was initially hesitant to participate in daily mass and prayer, it was a natural progression to be a willing participant. Our Sunday mass was officiated by our tour group’s priest in an outdoor setting which exuded peace – a cosy forum accessed by a stoney path surrounded by trees giving it an ethereal atmosphere.

Indeed Medugorje has been aptly described as a “very special place where heaven touched the earth”.

I prayed for my children and grandchildren, for my family and friends. I offered up petitions for those in need. I prayed for myself. That I can be so filled with awe for the Risen Lord and love of the Blessed Virgin Mary, that I may reflect, if only faintly, their love. Be responsible if only in my own little bubble for the transference of peace. To try as I might, understand how to live a life that is pleasing to God.

As Mother Elvira, founder of the Cenacolo Community in 1983 to provide hope and healing to those suffering from addiction said –

“We are not born just to finish our lives here, we are born to walk towards Heaven.”

Retour À La France …

October 2, 2024 / Denise / Leave a comment

Cycling Team 2024 – All set and ready to go

Crêpes Grand Marnier. Baguettes. Cafés. Hot Chocolate. Underground bars. Chasing the sun rays. Hitch Hiking. Hostels. Trying to ski. New Friends. Lots of laughter. Missing home. First Winter. Minimal heating. Exploring. Learning. Life’s first adventures.

Just some of the many memories of my year in France several moons ago when I left home for the first time to learn to speak French. A dream of mine for many years. I was dropped off in Grenoble by my very brave father, left in what seemed like a monastery, enrolled at the Université de Grenoble, and the rest is history.

I made some life-long friends. Came away with a good working knowledge of French and most importantly a good working knowledge of life. Learned to live on my own and learned to manoeuvre the intricacies of relationships.

And now to return to this country I once called home for a fleeting moment in time. I feel as if I should know everything but I don’t. My memories are limited to the little town of Grenoble, neatly tucked away at the bottom of the alps where as a student you felt you owned the town.

Looking forward this time to experiencing France as an adult with nowhere to be and lots of time to get there. Wanting most of all to resurrect my knowledge of French hoping to feel as comfortable as I did many years ago.

Our first day included a round trip from St. Rémy to Château des Beaux de Provence. Cycling along the cycle paths through the peaceful countryside, stumbling upon the ruins of an aqueduct and eventually exploring the Château des Beaux, an ancient medieval fortress which attracts many tourists for its amazing views, quaint shopping and interesting restaurants. But at the same time represents a warring history since the 11th Century. Its ruinous buildings add charm and intrigue. And as you venture to the top, the view opens up unexpectedly as far as Marseille leaving you gratified that you took the time to slowly explore the ins and outs of this amazing Château.

The following days just kept getting better and better. Beautiful weather. Cool breezes. Apple orchards. Open fields. Mountain Views. Quiet cycle paths. Rolling hills presenting a challenging ride. Passing through the small towns of Moleges, Saint Andiol, Plan d’Organ stopping in others for lunch and the much needed beverage.

Crispy cold white wine and local beers make the cycle all the more worthwhile. Chatting on the way, stopping to take the must-have pics to preserve our memories of this journey. At no time imagining the beauty of the towns before us.

La Fontaine de Vaucluse captured our hearts.

Upon approaching we stopped off at what we believe to be a beautiful respite for the day. What seems to be a river with clear water emerald in colour, lined by stone buildings centuries old carefully preserved. We admire those daring to venture into the water on kayaks imagining that the water is near freezing. Thanks but no thanks.

But as we coast into la Fontaine de Vaucluse we are struck by the unassuming beauty of this town. Large Sycamore trees encircle the Centre fountain making for a cosy welcoming atmosphere. The chitter chatter in the restaurants that surround, the babbling of the water flowing in and around the town, the cobblestone streets make it the perfect stop for the next two nights.

We make the most of our stay by exploring the narrow streets, searching for the source of the water and finally hiking up the steep stoney pathway to the ruins of an old castle on the hill taking in the majestic views from the top.

I finally taste my first real French Crepe Grand Mariner in what feels like a century, and all is good. Bringing back memories of a time long ago when my journey had only just begun.

And so it went from St. Rémy to Châteaux des Beaux, La Fontaine de Vaucluse to l’Isle sur la Sorgue, Roussillon, Cavaillon…. One enchanting village after another. Capturing your heart with its authenticity and charm. Comforting you with its wine and food.

Adding to my memories of Crêpes Grand Marnier, Baguettes, Cafés with Escargots, Wine, Cycle paths, open fields, Apple Orchards, Vineyards, Biking, Fine Dining. Let’s not forget the laughter and friendship that will last a lifetime.

Cycling Team 2024 – What a blast we had!

Retirement Year No. 4…

September 23, 2024 / Denise / 2 Comments

I’ve been super busy. Not words that I ever thought I’d utter once I retired. But life has been relentless. Relentless with its blessings. Relentless with its surprises. Relentless with its opportunities.

When I retired I dove into four main hobbies I wanted to explore. Quilting, Mosaic, Macrame and Writing. I wanted to master, if not just dabble in acquiring and improving on these skills. With no other purpose than to learn something new. Explore my creativity. Keep myself motivated and occupied.

And if you know me I dove in head first. No swimming in the baby pool for me. So I signed up with the University of YouTube and began to learn everything I could. For days and weeks on end I’d pore over videos of experts doing their thing. And I got to acquiring the necessary tools to practice what I had learned. I loved every single moment of this learning experience.

Quilting was both easy and challenging. I could always manage a sewing machine, having started sewing at my mother’s side as a young child. Making the quilt tops proved to be simpler than I expected but nonetheless exciting. Watching large pieces of fabric turn into small pieces of fabric and then magically morph into varying designs at the flip of a half square triangle. That was thrilling. The actual machine quilting needed some practice and specific tools. And I’ve been forging ahead learning something new about quilting and myself with each quilt I sew.

Mosaic took me out of my comfort zone. I had taken a course in the art of mosaic several years prior but never followed up until now. I was rusty and again turned to YouTube for inspiration. I marvelled in the mixing of grout or concrete, cutting of tiles, watching different patterns and images come to life, much like the art of quilting. My garden is now spotted with stepping stones and my home is adorned with some mosaic wall art. Products of my mosaic adventure.

Macrame just soothes me. My husband would frequently call out to me in my hideaway loft asking what I was doing, and, with a smile, I’d simply answer “tying knots”. To make sure these were creative knots and not knots of some sinister vice, he built a macrame ‘thing-a-majig’ for me to sit and play with my cord to my heart’s content. I’ve made wall hangings, plant holders, hat holders, table runners – and there is still so much cord and projects on my wish list, I’ll probably need another few years of arthritis-free fingers to complete them.

My writing kept me grounded through these explorations. Helping me to focus, to keep my thoughts in check. It allowed me to discuss different topics – those close to my heart, and those close to the hearts of others. I’ve published most through my blog, some through a local magazine, but have kept a lot to myself. Still shy. Not yet ready to be shared. But with all that’s going on in my life, the whole writing adventure surely gets pushed aside from time to time.

Fast forward to 2024 and I had to make a decision. Too many hobbies meant being a Jack of all trades and a master of none. So I took a critical look at my work and my skills. Did a deep dive into my true moments of joy. And made the decision to focus on one that gives me a reason to wake up in the morning. Have another as a nice-to-have, that sweet pleasure we all need in our life and one more to keep me grounded. Pretty much a 60-30-10 sort of notion. Balance. Or so I thought.

Then there’s the sand to add to the bottle – the glue keeping all these balls together – gardening, exercise and family. These fill me up in different ways. The first affords me the space to sit and dream every day, the second keeps me outdoors exploring and my heart pumping to see another day and the third makes everything all worthwhile.

When I retired I never wanted to use the word ‘busy’ to describe my life again. The Oxford Thesaurus defines ‘busy’ as occupied or unavailable. ‘Occupied’ sounds unapproachable and ‘Unavailable’ just sounds selfish. ‘Busy’ doesn’t really sound like a happy to be.

So I’ve decided that what I am, is enjoying the fruits of a well-deserved retirement. Long but apt. My hands are full with exciting projects and my heart is overflowing with unimaginable joy.

It’s a short list…

September 21, 2024 / Denise / 2 Comments

So many social media posts list up to 40 life-long learnings of those of us blessed with age. Lists that, while trying to help those younger in years to skip the line to really understanding what life should be all about, tend to dismiss the fact that the very struggles of daily life, navigating the ups and downs are in fact, part and parcel of growing up and finally reaching the stage when you too can actually own the simple cliche – don’t sweat the small stuff. The journey, in my opinion, is the real deal.

So this is my short but sweet list.

1. You are in control. Be accountable. Take responsibility for your life.

2. You are supposed to make mistakes. Own them. Learn from them and move on.

3. People will always have something to say. If it’s not true – forget it. If it’s true – do something about it.

4. Laughing is therapy. Laugh at and with yourself first and foremost. You will find that you actually have a great sense of humour.

5. Spend time alone. Become your own best friend.

Do you have a list?

What 70 really looks like…

May 14, 2024 / Denise / 2 Comments

I must have been 8 or 9 years old when I discovered that my mother had just turned 40. I stared at her cutting her birthday cake with my father and I wanted to burst into tears. She was smiling and happy. We were all happy. But to me 40 was such a big number. A number that felt ions away and in my childlike mind, my mother didn’t have much longer to live. And so, 40 became for me the big bad age.

When I turned 40, in the peak of health, with a young family like my mother had been some years prior, I felt dread. For no other reason than what my mind had recorded so long ago. I didn’t want to receive any birthday greetings so I escaped with my small family where no-one could reach me, just for the day. Since then, though, I’ve realised that age is just a number. Your health, your happiness, your family are a few of the most important things in life. And now that I am in my sixties and the real big numbers are staring me in the face, I dig deep into my memories for what those ages could possibly mean.

My mother breathed her last breath just a few months past the age of 70. She had been ailing since her early sixties. My father heroically took on the role of caregiver like no other. And even with her family rallying around her, her quality of life began to fade towards her late sixties. She had lost her speech. I can only imagine that she felt trapped no longer being able to communicate as she had wished. And yet, even with this memory, the dread that I felt at 40 no longer haunts me. It has now been replaced with a sense of newness of life. For in my own experience, there’s still time for adventure. There’s still time to learn new things. There’s still time to love – your family, your friends, yourself.

A few weeks ago, my sister turned 70. We had been joking about it for some time, reminiscing on our experiences and wondering what this new stage would bring for her. The day after we celebrated her, she messaged me – it’s not so bad after all – she said. I smiled a big smile. For my sister has now become my new beacon of what 70 looks like.

And what does 70 look like? It is at peace with oneself. It is accepting of what life has to offer. It is grateful for every moment, every day. It is quirky and has a sense of humour. Ready to go new places and experience new things. Its arms are wide open welcoming love and adventure. It is wise. It is kind. It is generous of heart and spirit.

Thanks to my sister, I look forward to 70, hoping that I too will find that it’s not so bad after all.

Welcoming new growth in 2024…

December 31, 2023January 1, 2024 / Denise / 1 Comment

Driving home last night after what turned out to be a lovely birthday celebration of dinner and cocktails at sunset – well what was supposed to be a sunset – we were greeted with the beginnings of very stormy weather. Dark ominous clouds, thunder and lightening. Weather that had been forecast a few days prior. But we went anyway.

I was sitting in the front of the vehicle with my son. And I sighed at the rain. Something I don’t usually do. I love the rain and all the good that it brings. Pondering this time however what it might mean for the first week of the New Year.

“Rain brings new growth Mum.” And I smiled in relief. And some tears of gratitude for my many blessings.

And so I begin the New Year with promises of new growth. With an open mind and open arms. To whatever life may throw at me. Knowing that even though dark clouds may threaten, there will always be the proverbial silver lining. I just need to look for it.

Happy New Year

December 30, 2023December 31, 2023 / Denise / 1 Comment

It’s been a while since I’ve made any New Year resolutions. Primarily because I always seem to loose the moment the New Year begins. I forget. I change my mind. I simply can’t keep it up. Whatever it may have been. My resolutions became something I thought I wanted to do and never did. And as such I spent the year kicking myself for not being able to achieve what I thought were non-complex goals.

In 2023 however I made a simple commitment. In April. One that I felt I could keep. One that resonated with who I was and who I wanted to be. I committed to being true to myself.

Some may disagree and I would sincerely appreciate the feedback whether or not I have succeeded. But at that moment in my life I decided point blank that I was working too hard to please everyone else. I had lost who I was.

I had a lingering memory of this fun-loving teenager and I wanted to be her once again. She loved life. She laughed a lot. She feared nothing. She could do anything she set her mind to. And she revelled in the security of the love of family.

So what had changed. I had a life to love. My sense of humour still prevailed. There was nothing to stop me from doing what I wanted to do. And Lord knows my family have never left my side. But I had lost my way. I let myself be swayed by the expectations of a society that I didn’t really want to be a part of. A society that wanted me to conform to their norms. To look like them. To be like them. And I was finding it hard to keep up for my aspirations no longer conformed. I no longer wanted to be like them. I was not one of them. And never would be.

With that revelation, I forgave myself all wrongdoings and moved on. Just like that. Almost like an epiphany. And just like that she returned. Slowly. One step at a time. One sweet laugh at a time. One small accomplishment at a time.

She was no longer a teenager. Lord knows she doesn’t look like one. But her heart and soul feel the energy and passion of a teenager. Her years though have taught her when to say ‘enough’ and move on. How to love with all your heart and be loved. How to be true to yourself.

The journey continues. My commitment remains strong. And I look forward to new growth, new love, new beginnings.

Happy New Year to everyone. May you find your true self. May you live your true life. May you be uplifted by the love of your family and friends.

Merry Christmas

December 23, 2023December 23, 2023 / Denise / 3 Comments

I have been absent from my blog for a few months this year. For those of you who may have noticed and missed my musings, thanks for following me. The truth is that I’ve been preoccupied with life. Not the cliché ‘busy’ but ‘preoccupied’. And intentionally so.

There is a difference between being ‘busy’ and being ‘preoccupied’ – in my mind anyway. ‘Busy’ is what I was during my working years. What seemed like a million things to do to get through a day’s work, at the same time keeping up with my other responsibilities as a home-owner, wife, mother – and let’s not forget sneaking in some time for myself and trying to remain true to my family and friends. It was indeed a busy life. And as much as I enjoyed this former life which has afforded me many satisfying moments, and luxuries – and still does mind you – I can safely say that my retired life is second to none. One that is well-deserved and well-timed, if I may say so myself.

For you see I now preoccupy myself with what matters most to me. Time for myself, my family and my friends. A better place to be when whatever you do is a conscious decision based on the value it brings to you and those who are important to you. You now begin to focus on building memories leaving the ‘things’ you felt you absolutely needed behind. You now engross yourself in activities which nurture your inner creativity and bring you inner joy. You learn how to say ‘enough’ and walk away, peacefully. You learn how to ‘let go’ even though your heart is torn, but knowing that you’ve done your best. Believing that it will all work out in its own time.

My blog writing may have taken a dive, but I still take time to share my thoughts in other avenues. I’ve enrolled in the University of YouTube and delve into the making of anything a sewing machine can do. I’ve rekindled some friendships and made new ones and probably due to a natural expiration date may have let some go. I’ve quietened my voice so that I can listen more and in so doing find that I understand more. In essence I continue to be a work in progress, even at this stage of my life for I realize that there is so much more that I can be, that I want to be.

And my blessings abound. As I sit and write, the squealing voices of my grandchildren in the background fill my heart to overflowing with love. The pitter patter of rain falling on the roof lulls me to a semi-conscious state of peace knowing that the garden is enjoying a much needed gentle soaking. I am reminded of so many great moments this year – from the spur of moment visit to friends near and far for a catch up, to cycling to the end of the earth with my one and only. From siblings hot-dog nights, to camper-van exploring with my kids. From sitting staring at the ocean to trekking through the forest feasting my eyes and my soul on some of the most beautiful waterfalls. To just sitting still.

To understand and accept that life is what you make it, that happiness comes from within and every moment counts. These are the clichés I aspire to embody.

Merry Christmas to you and your family. May your heart be filled with love. May you be at peace.

I love Madeira

June 12, 2023June 12, 2023 / Denise / 3 Comments

It’s been a long time coming my visit to Madeira. The fascination began many years ago when I learned that my great great grandfather left the island towards the beginning of the 20th century in search of more peaceful lands due to religious persecution by the Catholic clergy of Funchal. It always seemed like a fairy tale imagining him escaping in the dark of the night aboard a pirate ship huddled with his family seeking a new life in the far off Caribbean. Landing on the rich soil of Trinidad and Tobago, happy at last to be able to build a future for his family. A child’s imagination for sure, but one which has stayed with me.

In one word Madeira is enchanting. It has been described as “an oasis of green in the Atlantic Ocean”. Its spring-like climate and rich soil are indeed the major ingredients for the lush environment across the island. Its flora is very similar to the Caribbean and yet everything grows in a more prolific manner. Even though it is located in what seems like in the middle of the ocean with a meagre size of 55k x 22k, Madeira is not in harm’s way of major weather systems.

According to Tom Mullen ‘Madeira is an oddly unique geographical and cultural blip—a rich little universe of rough mountains and lush slopes slapped by Atlantic breakers off the coast of Africa.’ A more apt description I could not find.

The people are proud of their island and over the years primarily through necessity, have created easy access to some of the most challenging and awe-inspiring treks through its lush mountains. Centuries ago its people would spend days sometimes weeks crossing the mountains to visit family and friends and in some instances earn a living. Now with the construction of tunnels upon tunnels, connection between the four points of the island is no longer a deterrent.

Simply put though the place is a small paradise. The people are warm and inviting. Yes it is a tourist destination particularly popular with the British, but apart from the different languages being spoken in the streets indicating the presence of foreigners, you feel yourself one with the culture and slip into this peaceful easy life the locals treasure.

We took the opportunity to explore the island by car and by foot, touring the northwestern tip of the island through the forests, dipping in the ocean and exploring the tropical gardens at the top of the mountain. Trekking the Pico de Areeiro has to have been the highlight of our visit. Words nor pictures can fully capture its beauty. The experience of walking along the 5ft wide trails at the top of the mountain shrouded in the clouds with views of hills and valleys on either side, stepping gently through dark tunnels, walking along the 3ft ledges at the edge of the mountain, traversing the peaks at 1800m. Challenging, exhilarating, mind-blowing – just some of the adjectives that come to mind.

Oh gosh let’s not talk about the food. Seafood of all sorts. I’ve fallen in love with Risotto. I can’t say I love the Madeira wine, but Portuguese red, white and verde – oh my word.

We spent a mere 4 days. I fell in love with my motherland. I am a proud descendant. I left reluctantly with memories that will last a lifetime.

Returning to Greece

May 30, 2023May 30, 2023 / Denise / 1 Comment

The last time I visited Athens, I was in my late teens and I won’t even try to count how many years ago as I’ll get lost in the numbers. My memories have faded somewhat though. I do remember visiting the Acropolis. I remember pretending to be on stage in the ruins of an amphitheater, mike in hand, singing Lord alone knows what. And I remember the excitement of the Plaka with its array of restaurants and local food choices. What stays with me in vivid colour however is being lost in love with my now husband as we experienced Europe together, ‘training’ it from one city to the next, stopping at whim in small towns that caught our fancy.

And it is clear to me now more than ever that your memories will always be just that – the feelings, the emotions evoked throughout your life. Visiting Athens now is a different experience. I am at a totally different stage of life and even though my focus may seem to be capturing the beauty of the city through my camera lens, I know that these special moments shared with family and friends will be what brings that sweet smile to my face when I look back on the adventures in my life.

Sharing good times with family and friends

Greece will always hold the mystery and allure of its ancient mythology. The Gods who ruled the skies and the earth. The Gods who ruled your heart and your destiny. I remember being captured by it as a teenager, dreaming, wishing that I had been part of this enigma years ago. And now as I re-visit and explore its islands, I am fascinated by its ancient history that is still so present and the masterful landscapes that have been created over time, by the hand of nature, or their Gods.

I have returned now for a ‘big fat Greek wedding’ on the island of Milos. With its 5000 welcoming inhabitants, its arid terrain, and island charm, it brings back flashes of our previous visit to Santorini and Mykonos when we were met by ladies dressed in black at the port offering rooms in their homes for rent (Airbnb entrepreneurs). Their hospitality second to none. Walking through the narrow streets hand in hand admiring the beauty of the monochromatic buildings in their blue and white. Seeking out the secluded beaches where we could spend precious time together. And of course experiencing the night life for which these islands were renowned.

Now as we explore Milos, the fun, adventure and charm of the islands continue to captivate. At first sight Milos seems very underwhelming. Its airport will either scare you or charm the pants off of you. But as you explore the island more closely it will amaze you. The Luna-like landscape which initially jarred because of its aridity becomes fascinating. The strip mining quarries expose the diverse colours of the earth in a majestic, almost painterly manner. The peaceful nature of the sandy/pebbly beaches beckon, the varying blues of the clear waters draw you in. The food which stays true to its Greek origins, excites your taste buds and once again the memories are created for a lifetime.