"The best laid plans..." or To a Mouse

or 

To Robin.

A quote often quoted, by Robin, and others, and perhaps a fitting reminder on this day of tribute and remembrance. My plans to note the day today were meant to be grand, and yet I sit at home in reflection rather than traipsing across the Khumbu Valley paying homage in the Climbers’ Memorial. At this point I want to give a huge shout out to Jemma and Rich, great friends of Robin and I, who have made an epic tribute to Robin this past weekend. Both have "Everest-ed" in their households by climbing the height of Everest on the stairs. They have also been raising funds for charity during their feat. The links to their donation pages are below. Check them out! I'm super proud of both of them for creating and completing this challenge. 

Jemma's fundraising page

Rich's fundraising page

Instead I’ve chosen to share my reflections with you in this published way. 

The quote “the best laid plans” are in reference to the poem “To a Mouse” from the poet, Robert Burns. Here is the quote in English translation from the original Scottish version.

“The best-laid schemes of mice and men

Go often askew, 

And leave us nothing but grief and pain, 

For promised joy!”

Robert Burns, 1785

How fitting in tribute by adding the next two lines for consideration. With all the best intentions set out, many of us have been left with grief and pain, continuously flowing and ebbing, and eventually fading over the months. For some, it is likely that this grief and pain will never fully dissolve. For others, our lives rebuild, old relationships are strengthened and new  and fulfilling relationships are formed. Relationships with memories. Relationships with others. All built on our experience of loss. All built on our experience with you, Robin.

Robin, rest well. You are remembered; and not only on this anniversary. 

As what often happens with a poignant piece of prose I encounter, it takes me much later to understand the full and deeper significance of the piece of work. 

 “The best-laid schemes…” quote, often mis-quoted, and likely misinterpreted through nonchalance or whim.. Such as: “… best laid plans, and all that 🤷…” echoing a “meh” for recognizing that a change has had to occur due to some unforeseen circumstance. I am certainly guilty of this downplay; however, perhaps the sentiment remains the same from the deeper to the surface meaning of the quote.

To understand the deeper meaning, the next block of the poem is essential.

“Still you are blessed, and compared with me!

The present only touches you:

But oh! I backward cast my eye,

On prospects dreary!

And forward, though I cannot see,

I guess and fear!”

With the local event of the loss of Robin one year ago, and the global, ever evolving event of this epidemic we are all facing at the moment, I find this next block of the poem a fitting reminder to live in the present, rather than to re-live the past and fear the future. One is blessed when they can stop looking drearily on past events, as well as choosing to not be fearful of the future.

EVERYONE has experienced “the best-laid schemes” over the past year.

How we are choosing to face into these plans, ripped up and tossed in the wind, PLUS whichever shitty life events are also happening (cancer, job loss, isolation, separation, etc), I find this block of prose to be a reminder about grounding and taking control of what you can control- You. In this exact moment. That is it. That is all. You cannot even control the moment as a whole, rather only your reaction to the present in which you sit. 

Be equipped with the tool of grace to notice what you are experiencing and which door you choose to open next. Be flexible and challenge your natural modus operandi if progress is what you yearn for. 

Those of you who wish to plan, will naturally continue to do so. Plan and plan and plan and you will be prepared to seize the moment with the ever-sharpened tools within your tool box.

Those of you who wish to accept the moment as it comes, are well grounded and skilled in adaptation to allow yourselves to cope with the downward strikes that you encounter. 

In whichever camp you identify, you are united. Others are feeling the same way. Others have dealt with the same emotions… from times far before Burns’ creation of To a Mouse. 

Unite in your grief and share what you are experiencing.

As an individual, find solidarity. I continuously find life lessons to teach me that individualism is not as strong as the summation of support from willing others. 

Change is inevitable. Acceptance is your unlocking key. 

Okay, I’ve entirely oversimplified this last point, but maybe in another year I will be able to verbosely elaborate. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_a_Mouse

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43816/to-a-mouse-56d222ab36e33

Terrr-RAH... I’m off to activate my purpose.

After 9 years, 7 months, and almost three handfuls of days; two different companies, two sides of the channel, and 28 countries visited, I’m leaving my second home of Birmingham to return back to my first. 

I can also say that I probably have not consistently lived in Edmonton since 2002, which boosts those stats to 17 years minus 1 month and a total of 47 countries slept in during that period.  When did I get so old to be able to say “I did that almost 20 years ago!” 😱Especially when it still feels like I embarked on my travel journey only yesterday.  Oh wait, I seem to have forgotten the three years I went to University year circa 2006 - 2009. Well, "10 years ago" is certainly better.

I have been away almost as long as I have lived in my hometown, yet I’m inclined to still call Edmonton my home town. The concept of home to those who are nomadic is fascinating. I wrote about it several years ago, thinking that home is where your stuff is, and/ or, it is where your special someone resides, meaning that wherever you are in the world, you are “home” when you’re with those you love. I’ve been contemplating if I feel the need to revise that definition or not, especially with my stuff literally being shipped for an indefinite amount of time across the Atlantic. Even with the reunification of said stuff, I’ll likely be residing with family for a further indefinite amount of time, all surmounting to the feeling of constant nomadship for the foreseeable future. At least being in the proximity of my family, thus those who love me, allows me to feel at home in one sense of my definition. 

Nomadic in address and in life’s upcoming path, this is likely to be the first time in my life that I can’t say I know how I’m going to get to where I want to go. I have some pipe dreams I want to activate and a few concrete dates in the calendar, although I probably cannot reliably tell you what is on the agenda tomorrow. I will however, be releasing info on my adventure plans for you to follow and join as they arise. 

Axiom alert: For years and years I’ve lived the belief that details equal success, and that has served me to get me where I am today, yet having been shook to the core with the loss of Robin, I’m trying on the idea that doors will open so long as I remain so. Perhaps life is screaming at me to enjoy the journey and to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. I wonder if my basic need for certainty will override this program at some point in time?

Admitting to, by writing this (the uncertainty around my day to day and learning to be open to the journey) reminds me of my core ethics, which I have permanently etched on my being: to live a life of reason, full of purpose and self esteem. I guess that’s me looking for certainty already as a coping mechanism. I definitely have purpose in my life with my upcoming goals, and I’m full of the confidence that will be needed to execute them. It’s the reminder to be objective in the times I feel overwhelmed that I’m grasping as I write; as well, to use my senses and take in what is around me to be grateful and feed my sense purpose. 

In the meantime as I make my second attempt at a Kr-exit, I’d like to reflect and share a few things that I think makes England such a great and “interesting” (in the true, not “English” sense of the word) place to live. 

• It’s green! Not grey. Many lament about the dull sky, lacking in sunshine, however, without the moisture, the abundance of deep green, hedge-lined fields would not be so. You only need to drive a small way from the city to appreciate the vista of rolling hills; the vista that I regularly gaze out on to when sitting on one of the very many trains over the years. Any time I venture away, this green scene puts a smile on my face. Perhaps next time you’re feeling as grey as the sky, I’d invite you to shift your gaze a little and take a moment to appreciate the life you can actually see around you.

• The English. Here I mean the English who have been here for many, many generations. Those who on the surface live their unassuming daily lives, they get on with it, they don’t tend to rock the boat. But when given good reason (or excuse), do things with more gusto than the average alien passerby might expect. They go big! They are the Mums who have their bottle each of rosé on the dance floor when they have their annual night off a year; they are the Lads and Dads who swap their daily uniforms to don facepaint and fancy dress to support their teams; they are all the Folk who, when you give them a cause, will go to bat without question to support others, in charity, in community, in nation. I suppose what I love about the English is the element of a surprise factor leading to the extrapolated notion and reminder that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

• The People. Here I mean my people. My friends, colleagues, and special acquaintances I have met along the way. Some of you are English, others are people like me who have ventured to this island for some reasons of their own. People who have had and still have dreams and see the UK as a land of possibility. My friends, colleagues, and acquaintances who appreciate this land in which they live and use what it has to offer to move forward in life. Thank you my friends for enriching my life in ways that have helped to form who I am and the life I will create. Some of you I’ve know for almost 10 years, some less, and some who I will continue to value and connect with over the next 10 years because you have a special place in my life. 

With that I say “ta ra” (for now) to this green gem of a land. I’m not sure when I will be back, but I have a feeling that I will return, and in closing I’d like to leave you with a quote of what purpose means to me: 

“purpose serves to integrate all the other concerns of a man’s life. It establishes the hierarchy, the relative importance, of his values, it saves him from pointless inner conflicts, it permits him to enjoy life on a wide scale and to carry that enjoyment into any area open to his mind; whereas a man without a purpose is lost in chaos.” Ayn Rand

Well... that wasn't in the plan

Well… that wasn’t in the plan.

If you would have asked me just over a month ago, how the next two years of my life were going to pan out, I would have told you: 

• get my Boston Qualifying Time
• run Tokyo 2020
• run Boston 2020 (getting my 6-Star medal)
• celebrate by getting pregnant
• have a baby
• move home
• establish a new family near to the Rockies
• go out on a limb with a new do-it-myself job. 

Of course, all presupposing that was to happen with my best friend, partner, and soulmate, Robin. Also of course, fully recognizing that this plan might not exactly happen, I made a contingency baby plan in case I didn’t get my BQ until later in 2019, thus qualifying me for Boston 2021. Robin’s big plan for 2019 was to summit Mount Everest. His further plans were to support me on my marathon journey and next on the list for him was to swim the Channel whilst we were still on this Island.

I guess the universe had another idea. 

Sagarmatha was hungry this year and seemingly claimed a life on each day an aspiring climber made an attempt. On May 25th, 2019, Robin achieved his 2019 goal, unfortunately it was his turn to succumb to the “Goddess of the Sky” at “the Peak of Heaven” as Everest, or Sagarmatha is known to the Nepalese.

Queue a big, sad, heavy sigh.

What happened?! 

I do mean this literally, but not as much as I mean it figuratively in a questioning-the-universe sense. I’m not here to decode the former to you, as there are questions we will never be able to  factually answer. I can sit and create theories all day long, but that won’t serve me, nor fellow man. I am also not sweeping this event under the carpet, choosing to revisit Robin’s created shared-memories as they do offer support in a positive way. Oh, and with the passing of your partner when they were more than the average man, comes another Everest of paperwork to decode- I couldn’t responsibly run away if I tried.

Why am I writing/ sharing with you then?

A few reasons: writing is somewhat cathartic for me, I want to put my gratitude out to the world, and I want those of you who know me to know that I AM okay.

I want to start by being grateful for everyone in my life and saying the biggest, heartfelt thank you.

Thank you to my family who were there for me in a heartbeat- on the phone, and in person. Reasons why to save up all of your airline points- so you can get your sisters shipped out here- stat! In times of great adversity, it’s comforting to be with those who really know and get you. There are only 3 people in my life who do… Leanna, Nadia, and Robin. My sisters know… they know when I need a moment, they know when I need a glass of wine, they know when I need to go for a run, they know when I need the house tidied. They didn’t ask. They just did. They did everything I possibly needed, including bringing light when we were all hurting inside. Bringing light, just as Robin did, too.

Thank you to Robin's family, my extended family and close friends. You’ve been with me emotionally. You’ve spent time with me (in person and virtually), sending me your support and deep compassion. Thank you to those who have stopped by. Thank you to those who sent video messages. Thank you to those who have cooked for me, sent flowers, and offered up meaningful support in the form of running, climbing, or a good ol’ chat. I can’t even convey the gratitude I have towards those of you who took the extra moments to share their feelings with me; not only in the instant I became bereaved, but also continuously. 

Thank you to everyone else, literally in the world, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances of me AND of Robin who took the time to send their condolences, support, and kind memories. These moments that you shared with Robin, and have now shared with me and his family are so touching. For a man who self-declared as a hermit more often than you might think, you would never have guessed it from the outpouring of support we have received.

All of this support is as overwhelming to me as the event itself. Perhaps as I am usually an emotional robot that doesn’t quite feel as deeply as those around her; perhaps as I would be the one that doesn’t know what to say to someone like me and might refrain. To these last people in my life that I know, thank you- Thank you for thinking of me. Your support is still felt (this robot is a bit broken these days) and recognized.

…

How have I been doing? Processing?

Day-by-day, as cliche as that is. Wanting to, but being cognisant, of making major life decisions. I’ve been happy. I’ve been sad. Pensive, patient, impatient, longing, heartbroken, hopeful. I’ve been all of the emotions in the past month. In the moment that I found out, I felt pure disbelief. It was another set of words on a page that were similar to the words on a page I had been reading each day previously. Numb. As the day went on, and calls, messages, and requests for interviews came in, I remained numb. I heard others crying, but shed few tears myself. My brain went into it’s system-default logistician mode. I had practical matters consuming 80% of the CPU, 10% for basic living functions, and 10% for emotional processing mostly fuelled by clinging to a t-shirt that smelled of Robin. The person I wanted most to heal me with his hug was gone. The smell of his t-shirt was the closest I could get to feeling safe in his arms. One of the reasons why I valued Robin so much was because he always made me feel safe and looked-after. 

Days go by, as do the various stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance), and unlike the suggested cycle of this framework, I was (and am) experiencing aspects of these stages in all sorts of levels and orders. In time I might find that they are generally lived out in the theme of the framework; however, until now, I get bouts of each. Denial being the most amusing, mostly because it’s funny (as a rational being) where your brain goes ie:

• One week later: Maybe Robin will do a Beck Weathers and make his way down the mountain?
• Two weeks later: Maybe this was one of those jokes where Robin crosses the line and doesn’t know he has and he will show up at his memorial to make sure we did a good job?
• Three weeks later: Maybe David Blaine will bring Robin back from the dead?

Yeah- all completely irrational and somewhat amusing. I must say though, these feelings of denial have pretty much dried up, which painfully is opening room for depression. Depression feeling more like periods of heavy sadness. The sadness that I wasn’t feeling in the first two weeks, whilst many people warned me that the hard times were yet to come. Okay, they’re here, and it looks like I am living the general framework in the end. Acceptance. Lol!

Don’t be worried about me, though. If sadness is the strongest emotion I am currently feeling, it is not the most frequently expressed emotion, or state rather. 

I am okay. Genuinely.

And not in the: “i’m fine” keeping-up-appearances way.

Okay, I’m not ready to go back to my day-job as of yet (referring to the Everest mountain of paperwork I’ve inherited), but mostly because I am grateful to be alive! I am alive! I have a life to live! The thing I look forward to the most each day is how I am going to use my body. The milestones on my goal list don’t actually need to change (except for the baby goal, but even that I could buy if I really wanted to be a stickler). Those who preach that exercise is good for your mental wellbeing are right. As well, Robin would have abhorred me sitting on my butt getting into a downward spiral of inactivity and latency. Your spirit lives on, good Sir. It always will inside of me. That was a part of our kindred flame: we are Achievers! Thank you for enabling me to pursue my deep-rooted dreams and aspirations. 

In the meantime, I still wake each morning with a brief paralysation and recognition of the sadness that I hold with the loss of my partner-in-crime, get my ass out of bed, pass much time each day learning my new role as an executor of Robin’s wishes, shake my ass outside or in the gym (reference to Joseph McClendon III), pay respect to our memories created with Robin, work on my future, un-wine-d, and look at a very few special moments as I try to trigger dreams of Robin whilst I rest. 
See… I am okay. It doesn’t mean you should stop calling, though ;-)

He will always be on my shoulder.