Why is this blog called "Walking with a Shillelagh"? Well, on the surface, it is mostly about about our trip to Ireland. But, it is also about the inner journey I took while in Ireland. And about getting a shillelagh. Being in Ireland would give me the opportunity I have longed for, acquiring a real Irish shillelagh. Shillelaghs have been around for a long time and are peculiarly Irish. Seeing that I am rather peculiar, it was the number one item on my "To Get While In Ireland List". So, I was on the lookout for the right Irish piece to add to my walking stick collection.
I didn't find it, actually, it found me. I was selected on the second day of our trip. The first day was too hectic and tiring to find something of such importance. One must be quiet and unhurried. It was quite a "Potterian" experience. Just as J.K. Rowling suggested the "wand chooses the wizard", so it is with shillelaghs. I was chosen in a town called Recess.
We were on our way to the Kylemore area of Connemara when I missed a turn in the road. If you have read about my other "driving experiences" then you understand. We had just gone through a town that wasn't really a town. There was a gas station and a craft shop with a lake view. As we had to turn around, we thought we would stop and stretch our legs in Recess; seemed appropriate for the name.
There was a parking area in front of the store and a larger one across the road. This wonderful shop had everything a traveler would want. Whiskey infused caramels, an excellent selection of books, variety of woolen apparel, and, believe it or not, craft supplies of all sorts. While my wife was cruising the Connemara marble and jewelry sections I was wondering about.
In a room away from the main area, I was drawn to a wooden model of a sailing ship that sat in a window. I walked directly toward it as if I was going to climb over the table in front of me instead of going around. So, I literally ran into the display of shillelaghs, which I had not seen. They were all jostled about and only one remained in the corner directly before me. Its curved handle pointing straight at me. As I moved my arm forward, it shot out of the display into my waiting hand. Wrapping my fingers around it, I thrust it over my head, parallel to the floor as lightning came out of both ends. I was startled by the display of power but no one else seem to see it. Well, it wasn't actually like that, but it felt like it! I made up everything, except the lightning. No, really, lightning. Seriously!
It was very nearly perfect. Made of hawthorn, it had just the right number of "numbs" running down the length of the shaft. Coated with butter and placed in the chimney to cure, it had a shiny black finish. It was just the right height, so I didn't have to bend over to use it. The tip was weighted for stream crossing. The handle was smooth and bent at a comfortable angle for walking. The head had a larger diameter than the shaft which made it perfect for warding off Normans bent on conquest. It would also be useful in Dublin for fending off any "splashing" Vikings.
Holding my new found treasure with both hands, it was positioned vertically before my face. I walked slowly toward my wife, as if part of a coronation processional. As I drew nearer to her, my hands slowly raised to their full extension. "This is the one!" I shouted, forgetting about the other people in the store. "What 'one'?" my wife asked incredulously. "This is my shillelagh!", I stated, still gazing upward at my prize. "What are you going to do with another walking stick?" The mystical and magical air of the moment burst forth out of the store as if a large hatpin had pierced the entire building. This was not just "another walking stick".
Honestly, I needed this shillelagh. You see, I walk with a limp. If you saw me going down the street you wouldn't notice a thing. It's not a physical limp. It's an inner limp, something that I have had my whole life. Everyone has one. It comes in areas of our invisible life; mental, emotional, or spiritual. There is something about us as human beings. As wonderful and magnificently crafted as we are, we are not perfect. There are somethings about us that aren't quite up to speed with the rest of us. It's a weakness that has a hard time keeping up with our strengths. We try not to paid attention to it. But it has the uncanny ability at times to hinder our strengths from being as effective.
In other words, we are all flawed. So, we spend much our our time and money (usually in therapy) trying to be rid of this "weakness". Now please hear me on this. I am not talking about the pain that comes from the tragedies of life, or that comes from the intentional infliction by others. I am talking about what is there from the beginning of our lives. We can trace it back to our first remembrances. These unique idiosyncrasies seem to have always been there.
For years, I have tried to outrun them. It is tough running with a limp, unless you're Forrest Gump. Every time you look over your shoulder, they are always the exact same distance behind you. Trying to ignore them, trying to out run them is rather pointless. They are always there. So, recently, I just stopped running, turned around and embraced them as they caught up with me. I discovered they are a part of who I am, not a cancerous growth to be excised out of my body. If I consciously integrate them, I will start to live out the whole of my being and not just my supposed strengths.
Not every square inch of a painting is "perfect". The artist can see aberrant strokes, or un-blended colors. But for the rest of us, we see the whole, we take in the entirety of the painting; artist's flaws and all. The whole becomes a thing of beauty. The paintings uniqueness's add to the essence of the whole picture. So it is with us, I think.
That's why my shillelagh is so important. It reminds me I have a limp. My unique idiosyncrasies are a part of the whole me. My weakness contributes to me being me. That is why my shillelagh is so powerful. It reminds me this journey is for the whole of me, not just the parts of me I like. It tells me to be an integrated person, a whole being. I am a complete work of art, flaws and all. It's also great for whacking Vikings
Now tell me, what "walking stick" could do all that?
