To really dive head first into experiencing Not-Knowing I recommend driving in a foreign country. There is nothing like it. To really cement the true feeling of NOT KNOWING it is best to drive really fast in a country where few speed limits are posted and your car has both miles and kilometers marked and you can’t actually tell what speed you are driving anyway.
To further enrich the moment it is best if you can’t tell your right from your left and when you are turning onto the motorway you can’t quite remember which side of the road you are supposed to be on. Now, do this with your wife sitting next to you shrieking “LEFT SIDE!!!!!!” every so often or “TOO CLOSE!!!” when all you did was brush the hedgerow with the side mirror or run over a scant bit of curb and you get just a teensy taste of the experience of Not-Knowing my husband experienced yesterday driving from Bath to Holsworthy in Devon. For an even richer experience of Not-Knowing It is best to be the passenger in the car driving in a foreign country. In the passenger’s seat in a right hand drive car when you are used to a left-hand drive car you get the full feeling of the utter uselessness of fear, worry and jamming your foot into the floorboard hoping to slow the car down while careening around narrow country lanes.
Lily & her owner stop to say Hello!
My husband did a brilliant job of driving on the opposite side of the road to what we are now used to. And he did this without the benefit of an automatic clutch. I do believe it brought out his inner James Bond as in about two minutes flat we were flying around country roads on the proper side of the road without a by your leave. I wouldn’t go so far to say I was terrified because there was something totally familiar with being on this side of the road after so many years in Australia but I am a lousy passenger at the best of times, I gasp, I clutch the door and roll my eyes being absolutely certain death is around the next corner (ask anyone that rides with me).
It seemed entirely appropriate to a day of Not-Knowing that we lunched in the medieval town of Glastonbury where King Arthur and his Guinevere are purported to have been buried in the Abbey. The Abbey ruins brush away all sense of current time in a glance. To be standing in the presence of the Presence of the chiseled stone arches and know that these same arches held a roof long ago that monks in 1130 walked is enough to melt all semblance of certainty to what time one is currently in. It was the pot of gold at the end of the shocking driving partner rainbow for my husband to get to cross the Abbey at Glastonbury off his bucket list. When we arrived the sky hung heavy with saturated clouds, aching to burst forth. But while we had lunch a breeze whipped up and blew holes in the clouds where watery sunshine poured through and acres of blue sky opened up. My beloved and I were able to capture in stunning photos this incredible place.
A taste of history in the Abbey Kitchen…
At this moment, snug in my beautiful flat (gift of my precious father) in Milton Damerol I can barely believe I had a moment’s pause yesterday in our big day down from London in a train to Bath then a rented car from there to here. It is truly wonderful what a good night’s sleep, a walk in the day’s breezy sunshine and a Sunday roast lunch combined with a lovely little bottle of Pinot Grigio can do to restore a person. Can I just say God’s grace is infinitely precious and fully present at all times. I was ready to abandon my daily posts yesterday due to exhaustion, displacement and no internet connection but thankfully my husband’s gentle assurance and my heart’s affirmative answer brought me to the point of restoration to grace once again.
Whheeee! What a ride!