The Unknown Path

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Before I left Calgary, a wise friend posed a provocative question that nudged at my preconceived notion of a “successful” trip.

My Writing Corner – the stickies are the setting for each act of the play I’m writing

“All I really want is to at least draft the first act of the play I’m working on,” I shared with her, the phone line bridging the distance between her in Ottawa and me in Calgary.

“But what if you don’t write a single word?” she mused. “What if all you do is follow your heart’s call in every moment? Isn’t that, in itself, success?”

It’s frustrating when someone highlights the glaringly obvious, particularly when it’s the exact thing I’ve been sidestepping.

So, what defines a successful trip? Or, extending that thought, a successful life? For me, it’s not merely about achievements but feeling truly fulfilled. It’s the profound joy of self-acceptance and an inner tranquility with who I am, right here, right now.

What if my ‘solo writer’s retreat’ yielded not a single penned word?

After the nerve-wracking drive yesterday that resulted in a flat tire, I decided to take a breather from the challenging narrow roads. A day for my frayed nerves and strained shoulders. And yes, a massage is top of the list when I’m back!

Instead, I wandered, read, napped, and yes, wrote. Surprisingly, I even wrapped up the first draft of Act 1. Yet, thanks to my friend’s piercing question, I wasn’t viewing this through a ‘success’ filter. This was about me showing up authentically, basking in every moment, every breath, as Greg McKeown explains in “Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less”, it’s about my “highest level of contribution”.

Venturing into the quaint hamlet of Garrykennedy on the shores of Lough Derg, I nestled into a cozy chair at Larkin’s Pub, a comforting fire warding off the crisp Augumn air.With a glass of wine in hand and an amazingly delectable bowl of Seafood Chowder, I scribbled and penned thoughts into my journal, the bar’s mid-afternoon quiet punctuated by the murmurs of two other patrons.

Later, I meandered along the shoreline, letting the rain-kissed air envelop me, the stillness of the moment a pure embrace.

It was quintessentially Irish—a day where success wasn’t quantified by accomplishments but by my immersion in every little thing.

That said, if someone could please explain to me why the Irish, known for their unhurried approach to life, speed at 80/km on these sinuous single lanes, I’d be eternally grateful!

The Unknown Path
by Louise Gallagher

Someday, you will step onto a path
not knowing
where it will lead
following its winding ways
into the unknown
that awaits
when you let go
of having to know
paths not taken
before you walk them.

Someday, you'll discover
the answers you seek
lay beyond
the paths you know.

(The poem was written while sitting in Larkin’s Pub, warming myself by the fire)

15 thoughts on “The Unknown Path”

  3. When or where you write, or don’t write – when or where you order chowder – that’s not an Agenda item to fulfil, is it? Impulse is something that prompts you to drop whatever you’re doing to write something – that’s the time to write. Unless there is a condition someone imposed on you, I think you are not required to come back with anything but a used-up ticket and a head full of experiences. If you have the impulse to write, write. If not, be a tourist. Or be both …

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    • I’m being it all Mark! Tourist (that’s probably the one I do least), writer, meditator. lazing about-er, and just plain ole’ being present-er to me. 🙂

      And it is marvelous. So marvelous in fact, this morning, I’m sitting in bed, writing and lazing about. It’s still a rainy day, the fire is on and I’m toasty, comfy and… lazy! 🙂

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  4. Ah, 50 shades of green and a pub fire. Of course, I would have had a pint, but still, the setting is lovely for letting thoughts percolate. Which then perhaps leads to words written. 🤔
    As to the 80 kms an hour – well to get somewhere of course! Embrace it and relax the shoulders!

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    • Haha! Relax the shoulders huh? LOL — I have a continuous stream of pep talks going with myself. Pippa, the woman who owns the cottage I’ve rented, just got back from Greece where she was in Thesaloniki for 2 weeks — driving a standard on what was the ‘wrong’ side for her. I was relieved to hear she too had days where she just didn’t want to drive! 🙂

      But today was better. I didn’t slow down to almost zero everytime a ‘Lorrie” approached! 🙂 And I didn’t have to constantly pull over to let the cars behind me pass ’cause I was keeping up with the speed limit. Well… almost. 🙂

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  5. I wonder how many authors over time were influenced by the “moment” rather than “forced” into putting pen to paper.  Just a thought!
    This lovely Irish scene you have painted today, mist and all is one of my favourite memories of Ireland back in 2011.  Our bus driver kindly kept us off the main roads as we meandered on single lane “cow paths” through the countryside.  Our itinerary was thrown out the window when we learned we could experience the real Ireland instead of the tourist’s perception.  What an experience to see a vista of 50 shades of green spread out over a valley as we rolled through rows of hedges.  
    I wonder what ye shall scribe tomorrow!

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    • I think to truly write, to write what is deep and stirs the soul, being influence by ‘the moment’ is essential. 🙂

      Your description of your journey sounds beautiful Iwona. While I know many people recommended I travel by bus, I feel somehow, this having to drive myself around has been good for me…. sort of. It’s taught me to stay present while driving — and just because something demands that I do it differently, it doesn’t mean I can’t do it! 🙂

      Oh. And I give myself the best pep talks when driving on the opposite side of the road! 🙂

      PS — thank you for the inspiration for my blog today! Your question has been the impetus for much of my ‘choosing to right’ versus feeling it is an obligation I must keep! 🙂 ❤

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