Meira's Memoirs / Chapter 1 / Healing Shimla, India. July 2014
2014 - it was quite a year for me, a watershed of sorts.
A lot changed. I lost both my parents and my marriage of 20 years. I had to steady my ship fast to enable my teenaged daughter to keep strong and focussed on her track.
I turned to travel - no longer as a passion but as a coping mechanism, to allow me to keep sane.
I turned to my homeland - my India., to its calming hills to seek answers....
Extract from Meira's memoirs - July 2014
"I just wanted to escape. Escape from my reality that was overwhelming. But like all who have had the rug pulled out from under their feet, I was unsure. With so many balls up in the air, should I travel? Could I afford it? I wanted answers and for clarity, I knew I had to travel to a neutral space, one that allowed me to introspect.
I traveled with my daughter to this very old school and quiet little property called "Wildflower Hall" tucked above the hill station of Shimla in Northern India. This stately home of an erstwhile Commander in Chief of the British army, is in the midst of fragrant cedar forests with endless views of the Himalayan mountain range.
Far away from the maddening crowds and my crushing realities, I was able to romance again, with Nature and I started to breathe, again.
Whenever Life overwhelms and even breathing seems difficult, “flight” is a natural human instinct. Don’t fight it. If the walls come crashing around your ears, moving away, even if for a bit, is the best thing you can do to protect yourself. And it doesn’t matter how far you go, what is important is removing yourself from those very circumstances that have brought you to your knees. This gives you perspective.
Where you choose to go will depend on who you are and what gives you comfort - solitude amidst Nature or that green yard behind your childhood home or perhaps your friend’s balcony or even in the midst of chaos - it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that you get there. And you let this space work its magic on you.
You breathe. You realize you have troubles, even big ones, but you are not dead and that you will heal. You begin slowly to put things in perspective. You realize that you don’t need to see the light at the end of the tunnel; you just need to see the tunnel for now and keep moving through it, as best as you can. You need to believe that as you progress, the fog will lift and new paths will appear. You realize that all you really need is to have faith, in yourself and in your Protector.
And just keep walking.
So I walked endlessly in that green forest, sometimes with my little one and sometimes without. I spoke to her and I spoke to myself. Many times, I just listened to the Universe.
Being the monsoon season, there was always a light mist around and yet it didn’t stop me from moving. Many a time, the sun glistened through the high cedars and assured me of a softer, brighter tomorrow.
We came back to base with a plan - not a very long term one, but a vague blueprint for getting us back on track.
The process of healing had begun."
A (wo)man writes as (s)he progresses and progresses as (s)he writes, wrote St Augustine. I think that holds true 1700 odd years later, except the gender bias that I had to correct.
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