🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 Aye, Scotland is Great! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Oct 7

8 min read

Updated: Oct 9

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I’ve been living in Edinburgh for almost 5 months now. It is a beautiful city that feels more like a big town. The architecture and history are fascinating. There are so many places to explore – both urban, and natural. So many ways to get lost. And in this majestic city, I also found the crucible that would test my vow to myself I made when I got divorced.

Downtown Edinburgh - pronounced "e-din-burr-a"

Edinburgh Castle and its amazing gardens with thousands of roses. I met the rose gardener at the Packraft Meetup, synchronistically enough!

I’ve stumbled across a set of circumstances that has tested my relatively newfound sense of autonomy and my vow to be true to myself, no matter what; this promise I’ve made to myself to never lose sight of my center, to return to it often. Never again, I promised, would I lose myself to the desires and needs of others. However, to say “I’ll never lose my center,” is an impossible task to set. As my fitness trainer tells me, “You have to lose your balance to find it.” So my intention is simply that as soon as I see I am off my center, to take the time to return to it.

The ever-elusive center...easy to see, sometimes hard to find

Yet, I was faced with the question, “What do I do when a dearly loved one who is in need is what threatens to pull me off my center? Do I abandon them to their fate and withdraw my support to protect my own centeredness?” Caught up in the swirl of activity, I remained in support mode and witnessed what was unfolding; fully conscious of what was occurring and questioning myself all along the way. Reaching my breaking point time and again in the midst of the craziness.

For a few months, I felt I had failed myself. I did indeed sacrifice my own happiness to help clean up someone else’s mess. I was suffering from full-on burnout. “I should have stopped,” I told myself.

But in reflection, what I helped this person accomplish was very important for the future. Without my participation, a different outcome would have occurred, and not in a good way. And when I imagine excusing myself from the reality this loved one was living in, leaving them without the support they were needing in that moment, that I was uniquely qualified to give…yes, I could have, but is that the type of person I want to be? Someone who abandons a loved one when they are most in need of support because of the high level of discomfort and inconvenience it causes me? No, no it isn’t. I realized that if I had left, that would have been out of alignment with who I am, also. So what was the right answer? I still don't know. Something about it is still wriggling around unresolved in my psyche, but I haven't revealed its full truth to myself yet.

In the end, I saw where I could have supported myself better by taking some breaks and not volunteering for some tasks that left me feeling resentful, or to at least renegotiate them once the reality and gravity of the tasks had revealed themselves.

And, serving in this way is something I was born to do. I am meant to priestess people through incredibly painful, dark rites of passage. I am uniquely equipped to do so by birthright and training. In fact, it’s given me a new idea to develop a coaching package structure that would allow folks to have access to me almost daily, to support them through their own dark-nights-of-the-soul, to receive consistent, individualized support when they need it the most.

Dark nights aren't so bad in Scotland in high summer...so far north it never gets truly dark.

So that is the internal terrain I’ve been exploring here in Scotland. How can I best serve, and how can I best tend to my instrument (my body, mind, and soul) so that I can be of service?

And, in case you’re here because you’re most curious about the external terrain I’ve been exploring, here’s a synopsis of that part of my trip.

I invited my nearly-18-year-old nephew to come for a visit. I wanted to help initiate him into adulthood and facilitate a grand adventure for him, broaden his horizons and possibilities. I have no idea if I accomplished any of that, but I trust that he got what he needed from the trip. We did a lovely backpacking excursion into the mountains where we were greeted by a lovely view, a lot of midges, and rain. Our hike out was very wet and when we arrived quite drenched at the bus stop to make our way home, the bus denied us entry as apparently, one must purchase tickets beforehand. The only bus stop I’ve ever encountered that doesn’t just pick people up!

I rented a camper van and explored the North Coast 500, or just “the 500” as everyone calls it. It’s a +500 mile loop through the Highlands with sweeping views, rugged mountains, beautiful beaches, and all kinds of things to explore. My favorite parts were Puffin Cove and a lovely café by a beach, as well as a botanic garden that hosted a kaleidoscopic array of rhododendrons such as I had never seen before! I had no idea they could come in so many colors. The flora and fauna here really remind me of where I grew up in Maryland. They are quite different from each other, but the rock and many plants are the same.

While driving down the road on the 500, all of a sudden, a sign whizzed by that said "Watch out, cakes about!" (but when you read it, you should do so with a Scottish accent for maximum gratification, like this: watch "oot")

100 yards later, I saw another sign that had me bringing my van to a screeching halt. I was like a marmoset who simply HAD to know what was inside this box (have you heard of a marmoset's insatiable curiosity to know what's on the inside of an object that has an inside?).

I did as the sign instructed and opened the door.

Well, whaddaya know?! There were literal cakes inside. Though I can tell you that the Scottish version of a cheesecake is not at all like American cheesecake. However, it is still very delicious and delightful in texture.

I’ve spent some time at several pet sits outside of Edinburgh, using an app called “Trusted Housesitters.” You can find a pet sitter or a place to sit internationally and I’ve had lovely experiences with it. You don’t get paid, and there is a membership fee, but you get a free place to stay in exchange for caring for the house and pets.

I captured this stunning rainbow at one of my sits.

I finally know what heather looks like! I've spent years reading descriptions in novels and other tales, I'm stoked to have firsthand experience of it now.

I climbed perhaps the only via ferrata route in the UK and got to explore a slate mine.

They had a via ferrata route INSIDE a mine - very cool.

The other highlight of the trip was Scotland’s Packraft Meetup. I spent a long weekend camping with this wonderful group of paddlers, and got to know some interesting new brands of packrafts. I hold the medal for first swim, and hope you get a laugh out of it, too.

We had just arrived at the campground and I hadn’t really met anyone yet, and we were all eager to get on the river. We learned there was a group launching in 20 minutes so we hurriedly kitted up. When my carpool buddy and I arrived, everyone had already shoved off. Wanting to catch up, we launched as quickly as we could into a class III rapid, directly followed by another one. Being a class III paddler and with someone to follow who knew the river intimately, I felt ok about it. Should I have insisted on scouting the rapids? Probably.

At the top of the second rapid, we could see our group at the bottom and went to greet them. As I followed my mother duck, I must have been about a foot off the proper line because all of a sudden, my boat was black side up (only the bottom of packrafts are black. You don’t want to see the bottom of someone’s boat!) and I was swimming. Resigned to my fate, I scanned for hazards, kept my feet up, and rode through the rest of the shallow rapid, getting dumped in the pool at the bottom with a flock of 8 clown boats eager to help rescue me.

Feeling highly embarrassed in front of this group of strangers, I joked that my favorite way to meet people is swimming. While I played it off pretty well on the outside, it was interesting to watch my head looping through all my insecurities on the inside, “They’ll think I’m an idiot. They’ll think I don’t know what I’m doing. No one will want to take me on any difficult runs, now!” etc.

I took a few minutes to get myself situated, soothing and reassuring myself as we pointed our bows downriver. I told myself, “I know you’re feeling really embarrassed and afraid that people won’t want to boat with you – that makes a lot of sense. And, people swim in packrafting all the time. Even experts swim. They’ll see your true colors as we continue downriver and you won’t be ousted from the more difficult outings. It’ll be ok.” This helped me settle in and I felt reassured.

The rest of the weekend was less eventful, but with plenty of adventure. We went through some gorge-ous terrain. I learned that any of the fisherman we saw on the side of the river were paying thousands of pounds to be fishing there. Unlike in the U.S., you can’t just go fishing in Scotland. Their fisheries have suffered major declines over the past decades and fishing is heavily regulated and restricted.

It was wonderful to be back in my packraft after so long, and especially back on the river, which I’ve missed dreadfully.

I visited Alnwick Castle, where parts of Harry Potter were filmed. I was lucky enough to participate in a "How to Ride a Broomstick" class, which was highly informative and entertaining.

My time in Scotland is nearing its end. I’ve explored castles, ancient forests, seaside villages, mountains, and rivers. There is still so much to be seen! I feel like I’ve not gotten to spend nearly enough time in the Highlands. My tourist visa expires in November, and it’ll be time to move on. I’m ready. But to where? I’m not sure yet. Poland is an option, maybe Italy, Spain…and eventually one of the Scandinavian countries once the ice sets in for some wild ice skating!