The journey
I’ve recently been on an epic journey. And what an adventure it was, traversing 2000 kilometres over land and sea. It took nearly three days to get to our destination and quite a few more to recover.
It wasn’t exactly one for the faint-hearted either for it entailed a two-night ferry crossing across the notorious Bay of Biscay in winter.
And let me tell you, if anyone ever suggests doing that, then politely but firmly decline unless you enjoy being on a rollercoaster for 31 hours! With waves at times over 7m high, there were moments when I genuinely felt scared and wondered if we’d ever make it to port.
I can’t tell you how relieved I was when the alarm went off at 6am for disembarkation. Despite managing only two hours sleep, I jumped out of bed like never before at such an ungodly hour, and felt a huge wave of gratitude. We’d survived, and the dry, steady land of Spain awaited us!
For me the journey wasn’t just about the destination but what I saw, felt and experienced along the way. As a self-confessed map geek I enjoy looking at place names on the page and then imagining what they’re like in reality.
I guess that’s why I love travelling so much as it piques my natural curiosity about what’s round the next corner. There’s an anticipation in the unknown and what lies ahead - will it thrill or disappoint or be somewhere in between?
And then there’s the feeling of freedom of being on the open road seeing wide expanses of landscape in all directions. The undulations of the mountains of northern Spain didn’t disappoint in that respect, giving way to a windswept high plateau that led us towards our overnight stop. There was a sense of adventure kicking in with all my senses heightened by this unfamiliar landscape.
Our stop was the city of Salamanca - a name on the map that in three-dimensional reality delighted us with the beauty of its architecture, the ornateness of its many churches and its enormous Plaza Mayor teaming with students. Every precipice was home to a precarious stork’s nest where courting, mating and nest refurbishments were in full swing. And as with every adventure we also enjoyed elements of surprise around each corner, such as the amusing sign below.
Yet you have to keep moving forward, and so we were back in the car after a blissful night’s sleep, making our way to the border. There was a certain relief and rush of excitement as we crossed over the invisible line that delineated Spain from Portugal. We were almost there….just two more hours of driving through mountainous landscapes in the driving rain. A feeling of weary anticipation rising in us again as kilometre after kilometre flashed by. The final windy road to this mysterious place on the map held us in suspense - would be worth all the effort when we finally arrived?
Now we are here and settled in, it really does feel so. It’s good to be immersed in green and to embrace the peace this place brings (see the lead photo!)
Yet this epic journey isn’t over yet and I’m not even sure when it began. It’s a journey without a defined start or indeed a final destination. There’s no specific timeframe, boundary or even outcome. Despite this, so far its been one of the most profound and humbling of my life.
It has been all-encompassing and deeply personal - my own journey through bereavement and grief after the loss of both my parents last year. It’s been a journey that has taken me within - full of unchartered and choppy waters, curiosity and unknowns, as well as, at times, uncomfortable truths. Each step forward has often felt like being in an unfamiliar landscape without my trusted map to guide me across it. What I’ve come to realise in my own grief journey is to expect the unexpected, and to wholeheartedly embrace that.
Despite its challenges and detours, one of the most profound discoveries I’ve made is the realisation that I won’t ever be the same person I was before it started. For now that both my parents are gone my sense of who I am and my place in life has inevitably and irretrievably evolved.
I’m no longer a child or even a daughter any more - roles that for 54 years I’d comfortably embraced and identified with. Now bereft of them, I’m slowly adapting, and beginning to embark on a transition….I guess you could say that I’m finally becoming a fully-fledged adult (though there are still many times I resist this!) It’s taking a while to process what the impact of this will be now and in the future. Maybe that’s part of my journey I’ve not yet travelled.
What’s certain is that there’s no defined route through loss and grief - you really do have to take your own path and allow yourself the grace and patience go at your own pace.
I find that often it is two steps forward and one step back - especially when a ‘milestone’ comes around - be it a birthday, anniversary, Mother’s Day or when a random memory pops into your head. It’s a bit like being stuck on a ferry in the middle of the sea; you can go from calm to gale force in a flash. And once you’re in that storm fear overtakes you, leaving you afterwards disorientated and unsteady.
What’s important is to find your own compass throughout this journey - something that you can rely on to keep you on course when you feel lost or sad.
For me, my compass has been self compassion - I’ve learnt to be kind and non-judgemental when emotions bubble up and to give myself the time and grace to work through them. There’s not really a right way I’ve discovered, just your own way forward.
Even within this journey, life and work has had to carry on, often at its intense and demanding pace, so navigating other’s expectations and demands, while also attending to your own emotions, can, I believe, be one of the toughest parts of this journey.
What has helped me hugely though is knowing that I’m not alone. That this is a journey we’ll all take at some point in our lives. You may well be going through it now or have experienced it already. And as a midlife woman, you may find out that it’s not even related to the loss of your parents or a loved one.
It could be a sense of loss and grief for a past version of yourself (such as the woman you were before menopause), for the breakdown of your marriage, for a loss of confidence after being made redundant, for your children leaving home - there’s a myriad of reasons.
There are so many journeys through loss that midlife women take, and each one is uniquely individual.
So don’t be afraid to take the road less travelled and follow your own route. Get comfortable with not really knowing the destination or outcome, and trust that they will unfold. See this time as an opportunity to get curious about what’s around the next corner and have the courage to go off piste to explore.
What’s reassuring is that they’ll always be people to support you along the way be they friends, family or professionals. Don’t be afraid to say you’re lost and you need help in finding your way back. I’ve been lucky enough to receive bereavement counselling to guide me through and its been a life-saver for me. Being able to talk to someone who doesn’t know me about my emotions and being encouraged to process them has been such an enlightening experience.
So if you’re embarking on your own grief journey or midlife transition, know that however difficult it might seem at times, you’ll be enriched and transformed by it. Try to find meaning and momentum in each step forward and your own path towards healing.
As for me, my journey continues and I look forward to seeing how it unfolds and where it takes me. Though I think I’ll know when I’ve reached my final destination - that’ll be when I find my own place to thrive.
Thank you - and if you enjoyed reading this then please subscribe below (it’s currently free) and encourage other midlife women to do so too - I’m here to build community and share wisdom.
If you’re on a grief journey, then apart from seeking professional help if you need it, I suggest the following reading:
A short course in happiness after loss: https://www.mariasirois.com/books/
Grief Works: https://juliasamuel.co.uk/books/grief-works
I’m sure there are many other books and talks about loss and grief that I’ve not discovered yet, so if you can suggest any others in the comments below I’d really appreciate it. Also, I’d love to hear what you think of this piece and if it resonates with you.
Another great - and poignant - read Emma. Especially with recent family events. Along with acknowledging that my Aunt is the first of five sisters to pass on, her death has also made me think of my own mum's inevitable passing. At almost 91 years of age, I truly appreciate how precious it is and blessed I and my siblings are, to still have her in our lives. I applaud your courage and thank you so much for sharing a little of your journey with us.
Great post, great pictures, especially the "slow" road scattered with flower petals, and the fact that the coffee shop that is also a sex toys shop is on a road named Horno. Also as a fan of Breaking Bad it is nice to see the origin of the name Salamanca!