Whispered….

Posted on October 25, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

You still can’t hear them. Even after all these years. You still can’t hear them. As of late, I have been distanced from them as well, safe from their whispers, the shifting water carrying their voices far away from me…

But things are different now. The world is different now.

And now, they are louder than before. Just on the edge of hearing, not even words, not even voices, just the sense of someone…there. Someone just behind your shoulder, just about to breathe in your ear.

Come away…

Come away…

Where we are is so much better than here. We can save you from all the sharp edges, all the wounds and breaks. Come away to where you belong. Come and play with us. No one will even know you’ve gone.

Arguments raging at the edges of hearing, calls from behind doors that aren’t there. A breath on the wind that you’re just a little too quick to explain away.

The sound of gravel under your feet when the road you walk on is smoothly paved.

The feeling that you are two places at once.

Which one is real? Which one is now?

But you can’t hear them. You don’t feel them. You still look at me like I’m crazy.

And once again I remind you, that I – who hurries home at night to curl up behind my locked doors – am not the one who is crazy.

I just hear them. For the first time in seasons…

Happy Halloween…

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Wet Pride – Victoria, BC – [10/18/2020]

Posted on October 18, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

Welcome to October! And fall is definitely upon us with a vengeance. The air is crisp and damp and our high season for Ghost Walks is in full swing, despite it being a very unusual high season.

Now, it has actually been a long time since I was home for high season. Last year I did exactly one night before jetting off to parts unknown. I think the last time I crammed my brain full of stories for a full Halloween season was…well, several years ago. So stepping back out onto the windswept rainy streets and braving the inevitable chaos has been a bit of a challenge. But it is one that – in the long run – I welcome. I love this job, and I have fantastic coworkers (though the team has been whittled down to half it’s normal numbers this season), who I work with pretty seamlessly after all these years.

My first night out? I was beyond nervous. I was carrying laminated crib notes in my pocket while sloshing my way through the pouring rain. Before I started I confided to my coworker just how nervous I actually was, and her response?

Shaughnessy, you got this. You don’t know a story, skip it, tell one you know better. I trust you.

I trust you…

I forget sometimes, that I have been a professional storyteller for almost seventeen years, and I’ve worked with the same core of people for almost that whole time. We know each other. So when I got out there into that pouring rainstorm that first night, I carried that trust with me like a blanket. And…I did just fine.

Since then, the crib notes have stayed in my carrybag.

It’s been…an interesting month so far. This is a strange time to be running tours, and as All Hallows ramps closer and closer, it’s been a very loud month. Downtown still has that strange vibe and I sometimes dizzily don’t know exactly what’s happening next. We have over half a dozen tours running in a night and there are times when we are so hard on each other’s heels that we’re practically in each other’s laps. But one of the benefits of having only senior team members working this season and the same people working together every night is that we can move smoothly around those encounters. We can cross paths between stops and “say” an entire route adjustment with a hand gesture and a tip of our hats.

And that? That feels good. That feels really good.

Now…if only it would just …stop…raining on us!

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Flying Blind into 38 – [10/04/2020]

Posted on October 5, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

She took the midnight train going
Anywhere…

Where to even begin about 37. Where does anyone begin about this particularly bizarre trip around the sun?

37 is in two distinct halves. The first was, fairly normal, fairly straight forward. The second?…has brought more craziness than nearly any year I have lived through. I suspect that most of the world feels that way about this year.

But what has 37 taught me? 37 has taught me that I am so very much stronger than I ever thought I could be. 37 has put me through the fire and left me scorched and fragile, but also tempered and ready for whatever the future is going to bring me. Because who knows what the future is going to bring me or anyone else? We don’t get to know where the railway tracks lead.

On this particular part of my journey, I have done some amazing things and met some amazing people. I have learned even more about the path I want to take in life, and I have come to accept that that path may not always be the one I expect. I have temporarily closed the door on some dreams and open the door on others. I have learned more than ever what it is to be part of a unit instead of just being alone in myself.

This morning, I woke up to balloons and perfectly made tea and laughter that seemed to come bubbling up out of nowhere. There was perfect pizza and sunshine filled bike rides and a family game night that was a long long time in coming. There was peace and quiet and contentment and a beautiful sense of…relief, that I have very much missed in my life as of late.

Truly? If 37 has taught me anything…it’s just how many friends I have, and who they really are.

I have no idea what 38 will bring. I have no idea where my path will lead. And that is a bit of a frightening thought, but at the same time it is an inspiring one. No year is the same as the next, and – like I said – we don’t get to predict where the train is going to take us.

So the best I can do right now? Is settle in, link arms with my companions…and enjoy the ride.

 

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Dragging Rollercoasters and Overcome Obstacles – Victoria, BC – [09/27/2020]

Posted on September 27, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

Growing up, my Mum used to tell me a story about an investment banker who found herself up at 3am every night baking cookies, because baking was the only thing that genuinely made her happy and helped her relax. Ultimately, she realized that was what she should be doing all along…and promptly quit her job at the bank and became a full time professional baker.

The moral of the story being: take the time to do what makes you happy, and it will ultimately be a huge stride to putting yourself on the right path for you…

Do what makes you happy…

Well, I’m still sort of figuring that one out…it’s been a bit difficult lately. But I have landed on a few things.

Surprisingly, cooking seems to be one of them. Thing one? The pasties turned out *amazingly*. I actually squealed with delight when I took them out of the oven! The first batch was a little tough (I over kneaded the dough) but the second was pretty much perfect. Now I can just play with seasoning and fillings and things. I make a batch at the beginning of the week and that’s lunches mostly sorted until the following weekend. Very hand, and I’m surprisingly proud of myself. I never ever thought I would be picking up the knack of cooking…

Let alone that I would figure out that I really, actually, seem to enjoy it…

But really, it’s about time isn’t it?

I will admit that things have not been precisely the…easiest…for me since we returned home. At first we were just so glad to be home that we really didn’t think of anything else, and time felt like it was in some strange kind of holding pattern. Then when time finally felt like it had started to move again, it decided to thunder forward with the speed of an oncoming locomotive. And suddenly, my 39th birthday is around the corner, and December is looming behind that and I’m at the end of my “6 month emergency plan”. I’m more than a little bit…terrified. And doing my best not to be terrified which is usually good for at least one meltdown a month…but hey, no one is perfect right?

Because honestly, who in the whole world really actually thought that this was going to last this long? I mean if I’m truly straight up with myself, I’ll admit that I was harbouring the thought that it would be – if not over – at least on its way to resolution by September. It never really occurred to me that the entire world – let alone just my comparatively small industry – would be shut down for this long. And I’m not really 100% sure I was ready to deal with the unavoidable reality that this is…what normal looks like for the foreseeable future. I have no real clue what’s going to happen after Christmas, and if I stare that in the face for too long, it grows fangs and snaps my head off – which in turn makes me a pretty spikey person to be around. I’ve issued multiple apologies to pretty much everyone around me: Amras, my parents, Silver, my coworkers…my only real excuse is I’ve gone from a life that did not require a great deal of hands on responsibility to a life that requires a massive amount of responsibility in a very short period of time, and I have medium-length bouts of not dealing with the emotional whiplash very well at all.

So…there’s that…

But as the people around me who care about me deeply keep reminding me: depression can either control you or you can control it. So, to the best of my ability I’m at least trying to keep the Dragons down to a dull roar…

Feeding other people does seem to help with that!

As does gardening…and bike riding, and finally – after several years of saying “I really do want to do that some day” – starting my handicrafts business. The idea of creating something that can bring someone else joy, really really helps…and I need to remember to make more time for that. For multiple reasons, not the least of which is that the motion of a needle and thread still go a long way to calming down my rather overly active brainwaves…

Life right now is a rollercaster…or …a rollercoaster combined with some kind of bizarre drag race where we can’t even see the white checkered flag. But at the very least, there seem to be a decent amount of pit stops along the way…

And, as always, I say please – be kind. Always be kind. Most especially now and most especially to yourself.

 

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New Adventures in Unusual Nostalgia – Victoria, BC – [09/17/2020]

Posted on September 17, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

It is probably fairly well known that I…don’t really cook. I bake fairly well, and I am *learning* to cook, but a star-rated chef? Nope, definitely not. Not like my Mum, whom I dearly wish I had paid more attention to when she tried to teach me when I was small…

But I digress..

Like so many others in the world right now, my little family is on an ever changing situation, and – also like everyone else – our bank account has been hit sideways by the cuts and changes and craziness that is a worldwide pandemic. I wasn’t home for the “great worldwide bread bake-off” that apparently happened in March (Mum says you couldn’t find yeast for love nor money), and I am a little to nervous to take part in the canning craze that seems to be going on right now (seriously, the store where I work is basically out of canning supplies, that *never* happens)…but dammit , I can stretch my comfort zone enough to figure out how to cook on a budget. So I’ve been poking about, trying to find recipes that are healthy but substantial and easy to freeze, and going homemade as opposed to store bought wherever possible.

This is one of the reasons we are now the proud owners of a yogurt maker; because the amount of milk and starter used to make yogurt at home? Is about half the cost of buying the store bought stuff every couple of weeks. I currently have a pot of mixed berry compote simmering on the stove to finish off my first batch of homemade “fruit on the bottom” yogurt. I am pleased.

But yogurt was only going to get us so far. So I needed something else, anything else, that would be an actual meal that fit into the borders of what I’m trying to work with.

I was sitting browsing recipes trying to put together a grocery list when I was suddenly hit by a moment of nostalgic inspiration. When I was living in the UK, I developed a love for Cornish Pasties. These little yummy hot pockets were originally created for miners and field workers so that they could take a complete hot meal with them to the fields or the depths. Supposedly the ‘true’ version had savoury at one end and dessert at the other! (I’ve since found out these are called “Bedforshire Clangers).

Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

Small, cheap to make, apparently *easy* to make and freezable? And you can fill them with anything?

This is ideal. This is…potentially perfect!

So this evening I tied on my apron and took a very deep breath. I had never attempted anything even close to this; and I didn’t even have the skirt steak that most of the recipes called for, so I pretty much got to make the filling up on my own…it’s a long recipe, especially since the dough has to chill for at least two hours…

Side note about me and anything that requires homemade dough: I am rather short and kneading dough takes a certain amount of leverage. No matter how hard I try, I find that I have the same difficulty as other women in my family – I can’t get the right angle to the counter. Yup, I have to stand on a stool to kneed bread.

You may now laugh if you really must.

but I powered through, and the first batch is now in the oven.

It smells right…

I certainly hope it tastes right!

It will…be a little while before I tackle trying to make Bedfordshire Clangers…

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Choices of Unsung Heroes – Victoria, BC – [09/11/2020]

Posted on September 11, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

This artwork by Donna Grethen relates to the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.

When he left for work that morning
he was just another guy going to work
He’d have to fly out to a meeting in LA
So she had kissed him twice goodbye

Little did she know she’d kissed a hero
Though he’d always been one in her eyes

~ She’d Kissed a Hero

You will never forget where you were.

This morning I woke up to smoke choking the air of my little island, coming in on the wind all the way from Washington…and I mentally checked my calender…and suddenly…it all came back.

I remember so many moments of that day in flashes. How long it took to sink in, how much my brain spiraled when it did. How terribly deeply angry I was for a while, because things like this weren’t supposed to happen anymore. The crackling of a battery operated radio in the university lobby, the shell-shocked expression of my classmates. The thought of “oh my god, this is it…I’m going to live through a world war”…bouncing around in my head. I have a soft fluttering not-sure-if-it’s-real memory of wishing I could talk to my Gran. I’m pretty sure I prayed…and I’m not a praying person.

That feeling never really goes away over the years. And it doesn’t feel like 19 years. Just like it didn’t feel like 18, and it will not feel like 20. It will always feel…in some way…like yesterday.

This morning, Amras and I went through a totally normal morning that was – at the same time – not normal. I looked at him over the breakfast table

19 years ago…I was just heading to university and I was crying. Where were you?

I was calling my boss, someone had to tell him what was happening.

I sat there for a moment, and I thought – as I so often do on this day – that all those people, they just woke up and went about their daily routine. They went to work, they bought lunch, they hugged their loved ones. There was absolutely no indication that anything was ever going to be different about this day to any other. There was no way of knowing that anything was going to change, none of them could tell that – in only a few short moments – our entire world was going to be rocked to the foundations.

And I thought, sitting there, just how very lucky I am. How lucky so many of us are.

The world is going through another 9/11 moment, granted an extended one, and we are once again faced with a choice. We can become bitter and jaded and seek revenge and targets for our pain and confusion; or we can unite, as we once did ever so briefly, for the sake of kindness and humanity. We can take our inspiration from the helpers, from the healers and the welcomers. We can bring light to this dark and bitter time in history.

We can make the right choice. As we did for a few months back in 2001, when the world – in the midst of its grief – found hope in one another.

We can remember those moments and learn from them.

And, we can take that moment at the breakfast table, to smile at the people we love, and hug them at a little extra and a little harder. Because you never ever know…when you’re kissing a hero.

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New Growth – Victoria, BC – [09/06/2020]

Posted on September 6, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

I have never cultivated the art of having a green thumb. One of the many many areas where I didn’t follow in my parents’ footsteps (mostly because all the times they wanted to teach me about gardening, I was more interested in reading almost anything I could get my hands on).

In fact, whenever anyone asks me for help in the gardening department at work, I send for someone else; because I fear that my complete and total lack of knowledge would lead to utterly disastrous results. It’s embarrassing really, because I truly adore flowers but have never developed the passion and the knack for cultivating them.

So, since Amras and I have been married, our little garden outside our patio has sat shamefully untended and woe-begon, under the very weak excuse that we were never home to enjoy it anyway. Well, that excuse is gone now, and – with not an undue amount of hesitation – I finally decided that it really was time to do something about it. I purchased a box of mixed ‘pollinator garden’ bulbs from the previous mentioned garden section, and today we actually set about getting them into the dirt.

I remember a long time ago my Mum told me that when it was my garden I would understand. I’m not going to say it was a lightbulb moment and that I’ve suddenly turned into some kind of a plant charmer – I have no idea if the bulbs will even take root (no way to know that until next spring), but I will say, that when I was out there pulling out the last of the weeds and getting my hands dirty putting hopeful life into the ground…I started to get it. And I started to think…just how symbolic that act really was. Roots. Putting down roots.

Amras and my life has changed tremendously in the last few months. It may be that we never completely recover from what happened to us, there may always be little lingering shadows around the edges of our memory…but just like flowers slumber all winter only to persistently bloom again…we can work through that.

We can…at long…long last…put down our roots.

I think I’ll plant tulips next…

And maybe start a tomato plant.

Yes. I think I’ll do that.

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This is….? – [08/31/2020]

Posted on August 31, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

Everything here is harsh and bright and violent
~ Buffy

or

So you’ll kill them, and then someone else will kill you […] and so on and so on until everyone is bathed in blood and no one even remembers who [they] were. That’s how blood fueds work Pol. Congratulations, you’re an Arend to your fingertips now

~ Polgara the Sorceress.

Fair warning: I don’t think this is going to be an easy read, I don’t even know that it’s going to make any sense. But something happened recently that I find myself needing to work through and this is the best way I know how to do that…

I haven’t talked much about touring since I’ve been back, but the tours are running. Online ticket sales only, limited numbers, masks where possible, and we’ve all been assigned our own microphones that travel back and forth with us now…but yes…I am back in black and will be for the foreseeable future. For as long as the restrictions allow us to keep running.

It’s a different world out there. I’ve pretty much accepted that. I’ve gotten fairly used to the masks and the distancing and the bubbles. I do my bit as best I can and try not to think about the fact that the situation is probably going to get worse before it gets better.

The new normal. That’s all fine. I get that.

But there’s something else…something that I’ve felt more since I’ve stepped back into working in the downtown core.

Downtown has never felt…great. When I first started the job town was fairly quiet unless you were around the louder bars in the evening, there were a handful of transient people, most of whom our team actually somewhat knew. Several of them knew us by name. There was little turmoil and I was never afraid ever. Except for a teeny tiny lingering fear of the dark when I was on my way home.

But now?

The world is a different place now. Those sadly familiar faces are gone, I haven’t seen any of them in seasons – I hope that…wherever they are…they’re all right, and that they found their way to a better place in life (or a better place in the next life, if it came to that for any of them). In their place is…I don’t know. A world I don’t recognize. The “new” residents of the downtown streets and the temporary shelters are sometimes frightening in their aggression and tours are – apparently, it hasn’t happened to me – being frequently interrupted by a heightened level of harassment by everything from drunks to protests. Some of our tours have had to be re-routed to avoid problematic areas.

Town feels…strange now. Unfamiliar. I walk streets I’ve known my whole life, tell stories I’ve been telling for over fifteen years, but I sometimes don’t recognize the city I’m telling them in! A few nights ago my early evening tour was interrupted by a protest following around a supposedly (I say supposedly because I couldn’t make out much of what was being said) hate-fueled street preacher. A hate preacher? In my city? And as I watched them pass…it was actually hard to tell which group was more hateful.

And that frightened me more than a little…

I remember when protesting against such things took the form of massive silent angel wings blocking them from view at funerals…how did we go from that to…this?

And it’s not just here. It’s not just this beautiful city of mine that I love so much, it seems to be…everywhere. There are days since I was released from my shipboard “imprisonment” when I don’t even seem to recognize the entire world. And this is since…January? Since March?

What is happening to the world out there? I don’t understand it.

I know and understand that a lot of the problems that are currently and violently raising their heads have been a long long time coming. I am fully aware that I myself am privileged in many many ways, not the least of which is where I was born and the colour of my skin. I am not contesting the issues at hand. I am not standing against anything or even for anything…I am merely frightened.

And confused…so very confused…

Because I don’t remember any of it being like this…and I am afraid of where it will end.

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La-La How the Life Goes On – Victoria, BC – [08/24/2020]

Posted on August 24, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

Ob-la-dee-ob-la-da
Life goes on…
La la how the life goes on

Let’s see, what is new in the world of Shaughnessy. Not much I’m afraid. I’ve gone from world traveler to homebody, with a normal 9-5 life like so many others. And honestly, I’m pretty okay with that. I will admit though, that it doesn’t make for very entertaining reading, that’s why I’ve been so quiet since we got home. For the first while we were recovering, and now we’re just living a nice quiet existence.

It feels like a bit of a reprieve from the world really.

Well, not entirely. I am still highly aware of what’s going on out there. Cases on my little island are up, people are starting to be foolish and getting cracked down on for it (seriously, don’t have a party of 40 people), and signs that the plague is still upon us are everywhere. Ghost Tours are still up and running but held to groups of ten rather than our usual 30, and masks continue to be the newest fashion statement (I have 10 now, with my eye on a few others specifically for work)…this is our new reality, and we have adjusted to it as best we can.

Except when we don’t want to.

With all the insanity going on in the world right now, it is often necessary to escape into…something. Anything. For me? That’s usually one of three things: my embroidery (the little side business I’m trying to start up actually has a surprising amount of commissions coming in!), reading (currently delving into a magical revolution) and….wandering around the world of Skyrim.

Playing this game is like falling into a giant interactive novel. I have never played a game like this. It allows you to totally lose track of where you are and just…step into somewhere else for a while. And there is a tremendous sense of accomplishment when you learn a new skill in-game. I can’t really describe the surge of pride when I hit 100 proficiency in archery. I may or may not have done a little happy dance in my chair. It’s not much, but it’s one of those little things that makes things feel a little less crazy.

I mean hey, I’ve never claimed not to be a nerd. So when you give me a game that is completely open world and lets me choose whichever branch of the story I want to run after in any order, or just make up my own story then….yup, I’m going to jump into that head first.

And hey, right now? It certainly beats reality.

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Life is Made of Moments – Victoria, BC – [10/08/2020]

Posted on August 10, 2020 by GypsyShaughnessy

Just a moment
One peculiar passing moment
Must it all be either “less or more”
either “plain or grand”
Is it always or? Is it never and?
That’s what woods are for
For those moments in the woods

It’s difficult to really know where to begin these days. There’s so much to say, and yet at the same time there’s so little.

Every day people ask us questions, usually the same ones, always with our best interests at heart, but the truth is we simply don’t have the answers yet. It’s too soon to say whether or not there will even be an industry to go back to let alone whether we will have jobs in it or if we would welcome them back. Just one foot in front of the other, just like everyone else.

I do miss my job. Sometimes. In little odd flashes that I don’t always expect. A song on the radio, a memory flashing through my mind. But I’m also aware that I’ve been away from it a few months now, and that’s enough to start separating myself from the parts I know I don’t miss: the petty politics and the sense of separation, the loneliness and the long hours. But I miss my friends and my shipboard family and the whirlwind seeing of the world.

But that said, I’m not at all unhappy. Not anymore (I was, for a while, but I prefer not to focus on it). Life always takes bizarre turns, and it’s impossible to see what’s around the next corner. True, I’m a little sad that we’re not in Denmark where we were originally supposed to be this month. But…the flips side of that coin is that I have a comfortable routine and people who care about me, I have a roof over my head and someone to come home to who knows how I take my tea and sits across the table from me while I ramble on about my day. I have more energy at the end of the day now than I ever really remember having before.

Shockingly, I seem to have found my feet.

It’s in times like these that I’ve learned to take joy in the little day to day things that are all too easy to miss. The sunshine filtering through the rose bush outside my window. A perfectly formed embroidery pattern. The taste of tea and coffee first thing in the morning. The way my Dad teases me at work. The smile on a little kid’s face when I tell them a ghost story. Throwing a recipe together at the last minute and having it – mostly – turn out. Saturday afternoons with my mother. Watching my Dad fix Amras’ bike pedal. Being home to wish people a happy birthday. Being able to have a lunch date with my best friend and know that I will be there for it. Being able to say yes to dinner invitations. Walks by the water in the evening. Fresh picked, sun-warmed blackberries. Jokes about Canadian geese. Even a perfectly aimed archery shot in my current video game obsession.

These are all things that…I missed while I was away. And having them around, tangible and present, even the bad ones, even the ones that sting – makes everything feel better…more…alive somehow. Those little, day to day things that no one really thinks about because they’re so seemingly unimportant.

Right now? With the world we live in? Everything that brings even a moment of joy seems so very important.

Find those moments.

And when in doubt? Keep being kind.

Posted in Reflections, Sadie, Vacations/Shore-Side | Leave a comment