“If self is location, so is love.”
- Seamus Heaney
“Fate goes ever as fate must.”
- Seamus Heaney
“Once you meet your soulmate, there’s no point pretending.”
- Sally Rooney
I can still see the bird resting in the middle of the lilac bush that grew against the fence in our small Chicago yard. It is one of my earliest memories.
As a child, I had what my mother called an “active imagination.” My yard was a rain forest where zinnias grew sky-high along the chain linked fence; and towering fronds of dill swept the fetid air of the alley with fresh herbal scents.
I was always quite content with both my space and imagination. My world felt safe, until the bird perched in a bush, almost hidden by the lilac blooms.
The day was warm and gentle rain tempted me to sniff the heady fragrance of the lilacs. I breathed in deeply, stepped back, and found myself face to face with a mysterious bird.
Its beak was large, exotic. It certainly didn’t look like the city pigeon, sparrow, or crow that resided in our urban neighborhood. This was not the stuff of my imagination.
Running as fast as my red sneakers could carry me, I called for my mother. At first, she thought I was telling tales, as I was prone to do; but she looked out of the window and saw the strange bird with her own eyes.
My mother phoned the Brookfield Zoo and described our unexpected guest. The zookeeper explained that it was probably a bird who lost its way on the spring migratory path and would continue on its way in due time.
Although I was barely five years old, I still remember that day and that bird. I have often thought how curious it is that no matter how solid our path, we cannot predict the outcome of our journey. The winds of fate blow upon us most unexpectedly.
This past spring I traveled to Amsterdam with my daughter. We walked the path of the tulips in Keukenhof with thousands of visitors from all over the world, each of us ticking off a space on our bucket lists.
In the late mornings, we would dodge the many bikers who wheeled through the crowded canal-lined cobbled streets. Beautiful women wearing long, cashmere coats and smart trousers; tall men in tweed suits bearing soft leather shoulder satchels, all rode gracefully through the streets on their way to work or to market.
Everywhere you looked, the old narrow paths were filled with bicycles and baskets; basket upon bicycle basket bearing small dogs and bouquets of spring flowers, loaves of bread and groceries. Young lovers rode with their partners sitting side-saddle on the inside bars of the bikes. At stop signs they leaned into one another for a kiss. This was the stuff of dreams.
While the citizens and tourists passed me by, I couldn’t help but reflect on how amazing the world is that we all live a parallel reality. On any given day, I might be having a coffee at my kitchen table with my spaniel lying atop my feet, while someone else across the globe is also enjoying a coffee with a friend or a good book while their cat lies curled at their feet.
Travel opens the mind and the imagination. We really are just people with dreams and desires all walking on different roads until our paths cross in remarkable, fate-fueled ways.
The weekend before my daughter and I flew to Amsterdam, we attended a family wedding in Meath, Ireland. Our cousin was marrying a lovely girl from Norway.
Peter and Helene’s romance speaks of the irony of life and the wonderful twists of fate that bring people together. Like many young lads, Peter grew up in a busy suburb outside of Dublin.
He worked hard at his academics, had a keen interest in sports, and played Gaelic football. He spent quality time with family in rural Ireland and appreciated open skies and fresh air.
At the Dublin Institute of Technology, Peter studied Mechanical Engineering and went on to complete graduate studies. It is here that his path took an interesting turn.
Peter moved to Budapest, Hungary where he became friends with a group of Irish veterinarian students. One evening he and his friends planned a night out, meeting first at someone’s flat for drinks and conversation.
Unexpectedly, two Norwegian girls joined the veterinary party. The girls had planned a quiet evening of veterinary studies but were forced to evacuate their flat because World War II explosives were found in a nearby park.
Without any plan, the girls decided to join their veterinary colleagues for drinks. It was there that Peter and Helene met.
Anam Cara
From Ireland to Budapest to Norway, Peter and Helene walked through life on parallel paths: enjoying school, sports, the peace of wide-open spaces in their homelands, until fate and historic explosives brought them together in Budapest. During their wedding ceremony, Peter and Helene pledged their love and bound their fates together during a traditional Handfasting ceremony.
In keeping with the ancient Celtic ritual, ribbons are placed atop the hands of the bride and groom. In one graceful move, they each reach for the opposing cords and tie their hands together for eternity.
Anam Cara. My soul friend. My soul mate.
When paths are meant to cross, whether it is the meeting of a twin flame or the person who completes your heart, Anam Cara, you cannot help but join that person in a new journey. As Helene said about Peter during their wedding toasts, “He felt like home.”
Home is that place at the end of the road where lilacs offer refuge and memory, where birdsong ushers in the close of day, and a path of satin ribbon leads you to your heart’s desire.
