Epilogue
An epilogue is usually a finish. And whereas it might be a finish to this blog, its certainly not a finish to the message that IT OK NOT TO FEEL OK, AND ITS ABSOLUTELY OK TO ASK FOR HELP.
Today as I settled back to what has been my reality. I can reflect on the last 10 days. What is real, and what is not. What is the real stuff and what is the reality of life as I know it. I seem to have spent a lot of my second half life coming off inspirational courses and seminars to know that when reality sets in after the euphoria, things return to normal. Whatever normal is. Cycle Against Suicide is probably the same. Ill drift back to normal life in time.
But things can't be the same. I have met some wonderful people, stayed in amazing homes, looked after really well by strangers, as was. Met and re-met great people in the cycle. Saw dedication to this message and commitment to press it home time and time again
There are two distinct parts to these last 10 days as I see it from this remove.
One is the bike ride. Where we cycle along, having conversations with our friends and our new friends we have just met. Having the craic, banter with ourselves and the marshals as they pass or as they cycle along with us shoulder to shoulder. Sometimes stuff is unearthed and struggles are apparent. Sometimes histories are revealed and hopefully healing comes in time. Then its into schools were we see the vulnerabilities of some young people and the bravado of others. We leap around to our music and we mesmerise those who wonder are we really for real. And we don't care. We are carrying a message that hopefully all will hear and if only one retains it, then that's ok.
Sometimes when school is out and we stop in a local GAA hall of a community hall, we talk to each other. Because we have to be reminded too that's Its OK not to feel OK. And asking for help is not something that comes easy to us. And sometimes we hit the gold when someone who we have been around for ages with, suddenly feels the time is right to ask. To see that bounce in their step afterwards is precious.
The other side of our event is the homestay.
What a wonderful time they always give us. The 10 seconds after I get into my homestay's car and I close the door. The release. The tension changes to relaxation and the chat begins. Feeling of, Im home now! And I am welcomed in along with my friend or more than one, who I may have just met for the first time. An adventure begins that lasts over the dinner table as we are all fed, over maybe a glass, or/and an hour in front of the telly. A good nights sleep and all begins again at breakfast next morning, before being taken back to the start line. In that short time, friendships are made that may last forever or a memory only is what remains. But its always a good memory.
Sometimes you are in a four-poster and sometimes you are in a bunk. Sometimes you are in luxurious surroundings and sometimes you are in a country cottage. But always I am in a place, with people who really want me there. And if I can repay that honour with my time and my ears then that's good enough for me.
As we go around Ireland hopefully we are like those jets in the sky that leave a trail that lingers long after the jet has gone. I think we are like that. The orange trail.
Thank you to all my friends on the cycle, those I gelled back with and those I couldn't Gell with. Those from previous years that weren't there this year and those new friends I met and will again next year, hopefully.
Excuse me now while I slip seamlessly back to my other reality.
Today as I settled back to what has been my reality. I can reflect on the last 10 days. What is real, and what is not. What is the real stuff and what is the reality of life as I know it. I seem to have spent a lot of my second half life coming off inspirational courses and seminars to know that when reality sets in after the euphoria, things return to normal. Whatever normal is. Cycle Against Suicide is probably the same. Ill drift back to normal life in time.
But things can't be the same. I have met some wonderful people, stayed in amazing homes, looked after really well by strangers, as was. Met and re-met great people in the cycle. Saw dedication to this message and commitment to press it home time and time again
There are two distinct parts to these last 10 days as I see it from this remove.
One is the bike ride. Where we cycle along, having conversations with our friends and our new friends we have just met. Having the craic, banter with ourselves and the marshals as they pass or as they cycle along with us shoulder to shoulder. Sometimes stuff is unearthed and struggles are apparent. Sometimes histories are revealed and hopefully healing comes in time. Then its into schools were we see the vulnerabilities of some young people and the bravado of others. We leap around to our music and we mesmerise those who wonder are we really for real. And we don't care. We are carrying a message that hopefully all will hear and if only one retains it, then that's ok.
Sometimes when school is out and we stop in a local GAA hall of a community hall, we talk to each other. Because we have to be reminded too that's Its OK not to feel OK. And asking for help is not something that comes easy to us. And sometimes we hit the gold when someone who we have been around for ages with, suddenly feels the time is right to ask. To see that bounce in their step afterwards is precious.
The other side of our event is the homestay.
What a wonderful time they always give us. The 10 seconds after I get into my homestay's car and I close the door. The release. The tension changes to relaxation and the chat begins. Feeling of, Im home now! And I am welcomed in along with my friend or more than one, who I may have just met for the first time. An adventure begins that lasts over the dinner table as we are all fed, over maybe a glass, or/and an hour in front of the telly. A good nights sleep and all begins again at breakfast next morning, before being taken back to the start line. In that short time, friendships are made that may last forever or a memory only is what remains. But its always a good memory.
Sometimes you are in a four-poster and sometimes you are in a bunk. Sometimes you are in luxurious surroundings and sometimes you are in a country cottage. But always I am in a place, with people who really want me there. And if I can repay that honour with my time and my ears then that's good enough for me.
As we go around Ireland hopefully we are like those jets in the sky that leave a trail that lingers long after the jet has gone. I think we are like that. The orange trail.
Thank you to all my friends on the cycle, those I gelled back with and those I couldn't Gell with. Those from previous years that weren't there this year and those new friends I met and will again next year, hopefully.
Excuse me now while I slip seamlessly back to my other reality.
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