So 2014…that’s when it started for me. There’s a lot of history but let’s start here.

 I’m going to overshare so trigger warning here if you are grieving.

2014 : L and I were engaged after an exciting, intense relationship. All was going well as these things do but we’d had some major setbacks. We’d lost two first trimester babies in that time – but it was the second that brought us undone. The day of the twelve week ultrasound I was running late, and just got to the radiology place in time. L was already there and we were both nervous.

The radiologist was lovely – we were excited to see how big he or she had gotten since we’d last met six weeks before. The picture flickered onto the display and instantly I saw something odd. So did the radiologist and her eyes flicked to mine as she fuddled with the display and moved the paddle around. I saw her face go white and I just knew.

There was no flutter of movement. No heartbeat. Nothing.

Then Liz noticed the screen as well.

“I’m so sorry” the kind eyed lady said.

L disintegrated. I shut down. The radiologist didn’t know what to do so just handed L a box of tissues and excused herself . And that was that. 

The next few weeks were horrible, L went through Hell with the natural non-interventionist miscarriage, I worked away travelling and was never there. And so we drifted.

We decided to head to Nepal and India to seek solace and direction. Neither of us had been before and it seemed like a good place to start searching for answers. So we settled on Pokhara and an eco-village homestay high up in the Himalayan foothills of Astam with misty views of the Himalayas and complete solitude.

After being dropped off at the end of the paved road, the driver pointing to a thin dirt track winding up into the mountainside.  Took us four hours to hike up to where we were staying and it was beautiful and serene and everything we could have hoped for. So we grieved our loss, but very separately. Over the next few weeks we both realised that we were on different paths.

As our roads diverged, L went on to India to pursue a punchakarma cleanse in Varanassi  and I stayed on in Nepal for a Buddhist philosophy and meditation course. 

And then we were over.

It was relatively painless to say goodbye as we both knew it was right. When she caught a taxi for the airport to board her flight to Varanassi, we just hugged and said “seeya”. That was the last time I saw her. (Though I’ve heard she’s married now with a new baby so yay for you Liz) 

So I stayed on in Pokhara for the next month, as the rainy season passed, the Himalayan range uncloaked and the rains eased : studying, talking to my new friend Drolkar  the Buddhist nun at the meditation centre there. Thinking deep thoughts of family, life and meaning, meditating and walking walking walking. Always walking.

It was in on of my walks that I met a raven, or rather he met me. 

More on that tomorrow / my thumbs are cramping from typing on an iPhone.

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