“When I was your age I used to think I knew everything. It wasn’t until I was 21 that I knew I knew everything”.
Daddy
I met a funny sort of chap recently when I was up in Scotland to see my sisters for Christmas. Let’s call him Stanley because a) he can then keep his anonymity and b) I can’t remember his name.
I’m shocking with names. Numbers no problem. Phone numbers, bank codes, birthdays, no sweat, but names?
“Hi, My name is Janet”.
Blank look. “Oh Hello….erm….hello”
My favourite hello? “Oh, hello you! how are you?”. I’ve been known to text people during a conversation with someone, just to get the name of the person I am talking to.
So, back to Stan.
Dan is a Yank. My sister Shannon(?) tells me, he originally came over on vacation about 10 years ago, when he stumbled across some Neolithic stone monuments called Cairn Holy, near Creetown in South West Scotland. There are actually two monuments; Cairnholy 1 & 2. By all accounts, they were constructed in the 4th millennium BC, so they are impressively old.
The picture right is a picture I took of one of these monuments as the sun was setting. A miniature Scottish Stonehenge if you will. But the setting, atop lowland hills, with forever views south over Wigtown Bay towards the Irish Sea, would stir the poetry in the soul of any Celt and, frankly, leaves Stonehenge in the dirt.
I’m not going to provide a history or indeed any insight on these monuments, that’s not the point of this article. In fact, you can’t walk two steps without tripping over a stone circle or a druid in Scotland. If you are interested to find out more about Cairn Holy though, then you might want to take a look at Historic Environment Scotland’s website.
No, I am much more interested in Frank’s story. You see Frank never left. Something touched him all those years ago when he visited this ancient ruin. Something spiritual. So he and his wife stayed and moved into a cottage across the valley that overlooks Cairn Holy, and he has been there ever since. Isn’t that odd?
It is odd, but it’s also amazing. My sister told me he wasn’t retired or anything when he chose to stay. He just stopped doing whatever it was he was doing and started going to look at these stones. Every day! For ten years!
As I said, I met him the day we went to see Cairn Holy. We were just having a touristy look and he comes striding across the field toward the Stones (or Stanes as a Scot would call them). He was a little dishevelled and was somewhat ruddy of complexion, no doubt from years spent at the Stones in howling winds and driving rain. He had a grey beard. My sister introduced us and we exchanged pleasantries, but I could tell that Dan was distracted. The sun was setting and he needed to pay attention. He started measuring the length of the shadows cast by the erect stones.
“So what do you think is going on here Jack?” I asked. He stopped and came up close.
“First Answer? I don’t know. Second Answer? Everything!”
He turned and returned to his pre-dusk ritual. As I watched him scurry about amongst the stones, clearly old friends, it occurred to me that this guy was one penny short of a shilling. Bats in the belfry. The lights were on, but no one was home. One fry short of a happy meal. Nutty as squirrel shit. You see where I’m going?
But the more I watched him, the more I started to envy him. Labelling him as an eccentric, which by our standards he most assuredly is, was too easy. Intellectually lazy.
Siobhan, my sister, is a budding Buddhist. She tends to look at things in a kinder way. In a questioning way that persuades you to consider “Is that all that is going on here?”. She was not dismissive of Joe at all. THAT’S HIS NAME! He’s called Joe. Bugger me, the mind is a funny thing eh?
So what was going on here with Joe? First answer? I didn’t know. Second Answer? Maybe everything. Whatever it was though, I felt it merited a little more respect and a little more thought.
How often do you wish you could stop the life you are living and just get off? Melt away into a Celtic landscape and simply be. Run your fingers over ancient stones and feel the more simple, more spiritual life of the ones who placed them there. Let go. Feel the weight of modern life slip away. Be lighter.
The more pragmatic among you will be thinking “Well that’s just great! What would happen if we all did that? Where would we be?”
These are good questions. What would happen? Where would we be?
Perhaps more thoughtful. More spiritual no? Perhaps more reflective and searching in our approach to life. Joe isn’t lazy, he is diligent and energetic and busy in his searching. He has simply replaced a life that lacked that search with one that is centred on it. Isn’t that search ultimately what we humans are all about? Whether it be the meaning of life or self or truth, the Universe or God Almighty, isn’t that who we are? I would posit that very few people are really searching. Some are but most are not. At best we “fit it in” with our busy schedules.
I’m not sure for what Joe is searching, but I know he is. I know that for a great deal of my life, I haven’t. Maybe I’m just projecting my indolence on everyone else.
Maybe, but not Joe. I know that what Joe is searching for is greater than himself. His “I don’t know” is a synonym for “I am searching”. His “Everything” is just that. for Joe, that search, that needing to know, was enough for him to just get off and melt into a Celtic landscape.
Somehow that feels important. It also felt like a message, lying on the ground like an old pebble that I needed to bend down and pick up. What’s my search all about? What do I think is going on?
I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
Maybe I need to spend more time in isolated, desolate places (like this blog site for example). Stand on a hillside and feel the cold. Let the rain sting my face and feel the wind at my back. Stand where ancient others stood and caress the stones. Maybe then I’ll know Everything.
