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![Refreshment for the Soul](RFTS_2.jpg)
© Dianne Davies 2000
For all of my life I have been Somebody : first Somebody's Daughter, then Somebody's Sister, followed by Somebody's Friend, Somebody's Wife and Somebody's Mother, and for most of the time, a combination of these. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, it is a role I am quite comfortable with - most of the time.
Ten years ago I added Somebody's Guide Leader to Somebody's Teacher, and if I didn't have my own children in tow I would always be seen with Somebody Else's. It was while I was once again in charge of Somebody Else's children that I discovered yet another Somebody : Me.
We - Somebody Else's children and I - were on a week's "Adventure holiday" many miles from home. My own family, now well grown, had been left behind, but I was still in my usual role. The day was glorious and we were due to go sailing. I didn't HAVE to go - that had been made clear, they would have quite understood if a lady of my "mature" years had wanted to sit and vegetate in the sun - but I WANTED to go sailing. The children were all kitted out and allocated to a boat and an instructor, and I found myself for once left on my own. I felt vaguely uneasy - I am not by nature a loner, and the situation was unfamiliar - and was wondering what to do next when I felt a hand on my shoulder and "Come on then," and I turned to see a broad grin and a gesture towards the last boat left on the jetty. Private tuition? No, not really - he had two small boys with him, but they were strangers to me and I had for once been separated from my own charges.
For two hours we sailed: he "taught us the ropes" - both literally and figuratively - and I discovered a whole new world. The wind freshened and some of the other boats turned back, but our young crew were game for anything so we sped on, splattered with spray and bathed in sunshine. The morning wore on and eventually we had to turn back: it took all four of us to sail our little boat on the return journey, tacking into the wind, and all the while we talked. Nothing profound, nothing earth-shaking - just very pleasant conversation between four people from different generations and different walks of life.
Whilst we were on-shore for a break and refreshments, the wind began to blow in earnest and dark clouds began to gather, and the instructor-in-charge declared that there would be no more sailing for the youngsters. The adults, however, were decreed to be "old enough and daft enough" to make up our own minds. My instructor just looked across at me, raised his eyebrows, grinned and gestured towards the boat with his head and an enquiring look. Would I? You bet - just try to stop me!
Only two of the little boats ventured back out from the shore again; we shortened the sails and set off. My morning's instruction had made me competent enough to crew the boat, although I was not confident enough to take the tiller - not that I was offered the chance in that wind! and we were soon well underway. Without the responsibility of the children we could really relax and fly with the wind - and fly we did.
Throughout that wonderful day we talked to each other (with just the two of us in the boat, it would have been difficult to do otherwise!) and he talked to me as a person and seemed genuinely interested in who and what I was.
As the day wore on, I began to see myself with new eyes. I was not just a collection of Somebodys but a person in my own right, and I began to feel a new sense of "self." It's hard to explain, but I came back from that day's sailing feeling tired, cold, wet and hungry, but completely and truly refreshed.
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To this day, I cannot remember that young man's name, and I'm sure that, were I to bump into him in the street, I would not recognise him, nor he me. But I will always remember him in that he gave me permission to be me. Just me. Every year since, I have tried to have just a little time to myself, my "me" time, away from all the Somebodys I have become. It does not have to be alone or in the wilds - I have found a long weekend in London with a good friend to be just as refreshing as sailing up the Scottish coast in the company of a wonderful group of Old Salts and dolphins. As long as I can get that period of refreshment I am ready for anything : it truly is refreshment for the soul.
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