Would life be destressed if we fought lions?

Charlie Adley
Charlie Adley

Double Vision with Charlie Adley

In case you were wondering, I only squeezed another 24 hours out of my manic upswing, beyond the writing of last week’s colyoom. As predicted, a comedown arrived, accompanied by a collapse of mood and energy, but nothing too extreme; nothing a couple of solitary hours on a beach wouldn’t solve.

Off I head, back to my old stomping grounds. The cliffs are dark and defiant; the sand white, strewn with felled forests of diverse seaweeds.

I walk up to the distant headland, with the cold wet wind behind me, and sit on a rock. Then I choose another rock out there, at the water’s edge, and watch and marvel at how quickly the tide is pulling in.

This is my meditation, my mindfulness if you must: I just call it ‘sitting on a rock’.

Waves gradually encircle my staring rock, offering the illusion that it’s drifting out into the ocean. Once the water has risen enough to completely cover it I stand, stretch and realise I’m bloomin’ freezing.

Time to head to a nearby town for a cuppa and a toastie.

Into a pub I’ve visited for over 25 years, a place where sentimental memories abound, but today the lass behind the bar tells me she can’t do a toasted sandwich ’til 12:30.

There’s a couple eating soup and brown bread to my left, and over there a fella is tucking into his Full Irish, so I ask her if she is serving food.

Sticking her chin up and out towards me, she charmlessly states:

“Breakfast.”

At which point I put on my coat and leave, frosted with sadness.

Off down the road to another pub where far more locals are found: always a good sign. Loads of young smiley staff are whizzing around and when I thank her for bringing my tea she says:

“You’re very welcome!”

To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.