A Week Of Immersion in The UK and Ireland: Part III

I was relaxing after the shows that night.  It had started raining when we left Holyhead…but the spiritual experience I had had radiated within me still.

As always…I started with connecting to the Internet and proceeding to open up all my tabs about my research.  I may or may not have been approaching the line of mania by this point.  Part of me was getting on my own nerves with this swath of camera lore.

I ran across something much akin to that gold pot at the end of the rainbow: a news story about the sudden, dramatic drop of the British pound.  Now of course, the summer of 2016 saw the infancy of Brexit, and that brought much economic fear to those parties invested in the UK in one way or another.  As such, the GBP went south real fast to slightly above the USD.  I did not see that fact. What my currency conversion app told me was the opposite; that the GBP went slightly below the USD. 

I felt a pang of opportunistic delight the likes of which I’d not felt since being hired.  I took my app’s results as fact.  All mental processes were then given to sums in my head, locating prices at stores, and putting their numbers into my app to satisfy the part of me that thought I could finally afford a new, pro-spec camera.  All of this took over an hour. 

At last the expectancy of the day to come hit me in earnest.  I had located stores in Liverpool, tomorrow’s port.  But even more important was that my good friend Rebecca would be taking a train to Liverpool to see me. We had been planning the meeting for a week or so.  She and I have shared much and more, and can connect like the last pieces of a puzzle.  To spend the day with her was going to be intense and wonderful all at once.  These thoughts quickly replaced my near-manic camera research and I drifted off to sleep. 

But I did wake up excited for both my friend and my to-be purchase.  I’d found a place worth stopping by.  After a hot shower and a decent breakfast I was ready to whisk myself away toward my heart’s desire.

Liverpool Parish Church against an old crow's nest
in the morning light.

The Royal Liver Building and the rest of
Pier Head silhouetted in the daylight.  

The morning was cold, pure, and beautiful.  This walkable city was a great, sprawling, regal monument to British history when I first weaved my way through its downtown roads.  None of that grandeur lost its power today. 

This man and his "peace" flag made a great impact on my morning,
that's for sure.  Because of my camera phone's irritating habit of taking the
shot a second or two after tapping the screen, I wasn't able to get very many shots worthwhile.
Of course, that handicap of my phone certainly drove my desire for a better camera,
a better tool.  

Thoughts of last summer in Liverpool hovered in my awareness as I made my way toward my to-be purchase.  Its hold on me grew.  As I neared the main road of the city centre this hold manifested into something more like certainty. 

And lo and behold…the camera store was closed.  My excitement was doused slightly, and then I felt quite light-headed.   

Rebecca, and the camera to-be….  I decided to look for Wi-Fi, to check on the GBP and also Rebecca’s whereabouts.

As luck would have it, I found free wi-fi in the open mall of Liverpool One nearby.  The sun continued to rise, as did my excitement. 

Several websites contradicted my conversion app’s calculations.

Wait.  What?  How?  Great, I was getting inconsistent information.  My rational mind was very much hidden by what I wanted to be true: that the GBP was lower than the USD was certain to me.  How could it not be?  My app was showing this!  But there were also these credible sources, showing the exact opposite….

Finally my rational mind emerged.  Slowly breaking that shell of my heart’s desire like some baby snake emerging into the world.  I did not like that snake.  You can’t trust a snake.  You can’t reason with a snake.  …damn; this was no snake.  This was reality.

My plans to move to New York City…they were based on my savings, and rooted in reality.  The conflict, however—as ever—was that my need for a camera with which to capture the world was rooted in reality, too.  My saxophone is the strongest extension of myself with which I express and create art, just as the camera I use is the strongest extension of myself with which I share what I’ve seen.

Thus my heart sank as my rational mind swooped in and rooted itself firmly.  I would still be spending more than what was shown to me through all those gold-pot-at-the-end-of-the-rainbow prices.  As much as I needed that great tool as an extension of myself—as a part of how I interact with the world, as a manifester of all that I see which is beyond words—I held back from the certainty of purchase.

Still, I walked into the camera store when it opened.  Chatted with the staff there.  Talked at length with a woman my age about our mutual favorite brand.  She told me about shooting a wedding with her mirrorless camera; I told her about shooting with my smartphone.  She reiterated to me about the fact that a good camera doesn’t make a good photographer; part of me didn’t want to hear that and wished to grab that camera to-be and make my way out into the proverbial sunset. 

Moments passed smoothly inside.  I almost missed the fact that it was time for me to meet Rebecca at the train station.  I gave my thanks for the information and connection…and I was on my way without a purchase. 

The part of me that needed my heart’s desire was ambivalent as I left.  It was numb, almost satisfied with not being riled up, relieved to be resting.  The other parts of me were resolved in the present: to meet my friend, to have a great day in Liverpool with her, and to make an incredible memory.  

St. George's Hall, across from Lime Street Station

The statue of Queen Victoria outside St. George's Hall.

I was beginning to realize that, perhaps, those other parts of me had been steering me toward something bigger than a need for a great camera.  What, then, was truly my heart’s desire?

Rebecca and I would not stop talking, and joking, and it was effortless to be ourselves, to just be as we walked all over Liverpool.  I experienced the city with her by my side, and sure enough it was a new place all over again. 

A series of pictures of the Metropolitan Cathedralof Christ The King, the latter of which is from within,
a gigantic and fascinating circular layout.  

A series of shots from our walk from the
Metropolitan Cathedral:

Liverpool Cathedral

A series of shots from the waterfront:

We eventually made it back to Pier Head,

and continued on past the 

Liverpool Parish Church:

The Radio City Tower in the distance.  At that time it was a marker for the
Lime Street Station as well as a marker for the end of the day.

When the afternoon began to finally wane, Rebecca and I made our way to the train station.  We sat at a coffee place, still chatting, still engaged, still natural.  Had the many hours really lasted for as long as we'd known?  Had we noticed the many hours swiftly, deftly moving by? Was time an issue?  Did it exist?  Why does time exist for people who connect like the last pieces of a puzzle?

So we were reluctant to part ways.  I finally got to my feet, as did she; we stood looking into each other for a moment, codifying all that had been done that day.  We embraced, and I wished her the very best.  I didn’t know when I would see her again.  But we joked and riffed about that as well, surely to lighten the load of our parting—but also because we were able to joke about goodbyes until we meet again.

I turned at the arched threshold to look her way.  Rebecca's deep blue eyes poured into me again, and she smiled.  Involuntarily I did, too.

And I made my way out to this scene with the memory of our day like rocket fuel propelling me upward.

Lime Street Station

And St. George's, once again.

My awareness expanded so much that I lost track of it.  Then I lost my whole self in the surroundings.  Everything around me was special, worthy of note and love.  Spread like a blanket over Liverpool, I was a kid taking his first steps again.  Pure joy.  Like my first contract four years ago, it was wonderfully overwhelming and I was almost painfully content. 

There was one piece of music that called out, roared out, to me. Of the ends of things, things drawing to a close.  A sound of resolution.  Of satisfaction.  Each step I took was a gradual connection to the Earth, with purpose and meaning.  Walking meditation is like this, but I went beyond that with the music of The Brian Blade Fellowship; this group always makes me go beyond even walking meditation.  

“Embers” is the last track off of Landmarks, the Fellowship’s most recent album.  The melody of “Embers” is so singable that it comes out of the body without effort, and echoes in the memory without thinking.  It is unforgettable in the best way.  It is in the deep breaths we take to calm ourselves and reflect.  At this time this truth was in my core.

“Embers” was like morning’s first light into my heightened awareness.  It made my being spread gently into that which was familiar but made new by the day’s blessings.  I went, fully, utterly aware of more than my senses were taking.  I went, fully, utterly aware of that which I had had today, and in Holyhead the day before, and in Dublin with my family.  I went, weaving through Liverpool’s astounding downtown center and with “Embers” as my angel.  

The gardens behind St. George's Hall.

St. John's Beacon, also known as the Radio City Tower

Once again, I understood greatly how a person’s presence in travel can do us so much good.  And of course, Rebecca is also British—following the wonderful pattern of locals with whom I’d interacted over the week.  She isn’t necessarily from Liverpool, but hey; the events of life can’t always be as balanced and satisfying as a movie.  And yet “Embers” was my soundtrack of the day’s closing, and of the week’s closing, and of my life at that point in time.

Thus I made my way from Liverpool Central, through the lavishly regal buildings, that semblance of history and age almost pulsing around me, like a slumbering diety who may awaken at any moment to give me the knowledge of centuries and millennia.

I had dug deep into my awareness in order to realize the present, and there it was; and me in the middle of it, unabashedly and intensely happy, because life’s magic happens from and of the depths of our hearts and minds. 

The ship, nestled in the background.

The Royal Liver Building and Edward VII.

And of course....  The Beatles' Story is nearby here in Pier Head.
It's worth the time to experience. 

And you can be sure that I wasn’t thinking about a camera at this point.  It was obvious to me now that my heart’s desire was so.ething else entirely.

More often than not, travel isn’t just the landmarks and the places...nor capturing them in pictures.  This day proved it, because most of all it was Rebecca’s presence that made the day.  She was more important than the place.  Our connection was a perfect example of that lesson.  Like a toddler taking his first steps, I had that newfound perspective which sparked my love of travel, discovery, and life into motion.  Thus I boarded the ship with an old chapter closing behind me and a new book in front of me. 

Disclaimer: 

I do not intend to speak on behalf of Azamara Club Cruises.  As an employee of Azamara Club Cruises, I hereby state that all views and expressions of opinion I hold are solely my own, and do not reflect or represent the views, values, beliefs, opinions, or company policies of ether Azamara Club Cruises or Royal Caribbean Cruises Ltd.
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