Learning to walk again
What if Tony & George had never invaded Iraq?
What if those young boys had not been so angry?
What if they had changed their minds at the last minute?
What if I had never got on that tube?
These questions are not new and they spiraled through my head in a never ending circle of negativity at the time. But now, 5 years later, they take on a different significance, I wonder 'what if' in a positive way.
What if I was still working in an office in London, never seeing the ocean, rarely glimpsing the sky?
What if I wasn't living the life I am living now?
That bomb on the tube woke me up. It was a long, slow, painful process but 5 years on I can safely say I am happier than I have ever been. I love my life, and that is what life is for; for loving. Loving yourself, loving others and loving life itself.
Those boys did not love; themselves, others or even their own lives. Ironically, though, the direct result of their actions of hate has been love. It started the second those bombs went off, the love, companionship and camaraderie between strangers. Those of us involved in the events of that day have a bond that will hold us together for ever. We helped each other out of that tunnel and we have been helping each other ever since. Gradually though we drifted apart. The bond, the friendships, the love is still there, but we all realized that eventually we were going to have to learn to walk on our own again.
This blog was incredible therapy and it also introduced me to the joys of writing. I realized I wasn't bad at it. People were actually reading it and newpapers started asking me to write for them. Gradually my interest and motivation in my job declined and I started to question where I was going with my life. I had worked hard, trained hard and was a successful Architect who had worked all over the world, but suddenly I didn't really care any more and all I wanted to do was write.
I had grown up sailing as a child and my parents have a boat in the Carribean. Several months after the bombings I joined them for a couple of weeks. I was still depressed, suffering from PTSD, and I remember swimming in the ocean one day towards the horizon and thinking 'what if' I just keep on going? Well I did keep on going; not with the swimming but with life. We cruised between the islands at the very south of the Caribbean chain. We spent a mere two days on one particular island which I will call Taino. Something on this remarkable little rock reached out to me and planted a seed, a seed which took a year to germinate and has now flowered into the life I live now. Taino is now the place I call home.
So I am still Holly Finch, I am still me. But I have a different life now, and hence a different blog. I hope you enjoy Blowing in the Wind