Here it is, my third day on Iona. It’s taken me a while to settle into the spirit of the place. Yesterday I felt foggy as I sat in the sunroom of the Argyll Hotel looking out toward the foggy Isle of Mull. Where is the ground? I’m not grounded. I have ideas for writing but I don’t want to work on them, at least not with any precision. My email communication and blog posting is sporadic, done at whim. The ferry comes and goes as it makes the five minute trip back and forth between Mull and Iona.
     Today the fog has lifted, the fog on Mull and the fog in my mind. I recall the adjustment period that slips into my life each time I go off on as a solitary traveler. I like that my time is my own, but that means it is up to me to fill it. Be present, my mantra for the trip, is a challenge, a challenge to remember and a challenge to attend to when I do remember.
     As soon as I post this, I’m head out for a walk, hoping to remember to be present. (Internet is weak and slow so I’m not posting many pictures.)

     What an easy travel day, or shall I say days. My flight was on schedule, as was the bus to Oban and the ferry-bus-ferry to Iona.
     It was sunny and hot, which suited me fine for my 24 hours in Oban and first afternoon on Iona. I was on a seafood diet: lunch of scallops along the quay and a dinner of fish and chips in Oban, and a smoked salmon sandwich to take on my travels here. Last night I went off the diet and had roast pork.
Each year on Iona I renew my practice to be present to the moment. I both succeed and fail, but it’s all quite random: I remember, or I don’t. This year feels different, however, because I’ve adopted a mantra for the trip: be present. On the bus ride across Mull I did nothing but look: the amazing scenery became the foreground of my existence.

     I’m gearing up for Wednesday’s flight to Glasgow. It’s a simple flight with a plane change in Dublin. I’ll arrive in Glasgow in time to enjoy a Scottish breakfast at the airport before catching the bus to Oban. Then a short walk along the quay to Maridon House, my go-to bed and breakfast on my way to Iona. I’ll enjoy an early supper of fish and chips at my favorite seafood restaurant before an early sleep. In the morning there will be plenty of time for another Scottish breakfast before the forty-five minute ferry ride to the Isle of Mull, the hour and a half bus ride across Mull, the three minute ferry to Iona, and the two minute walk to the Argyll Hotel.
     Next Tuesday I'll make the reverse trip by train to Glasgow, and then travel on for a week in Edinburgh. 
     A simple trip for one who has done it often; solitude since I’m traveling alone; silence inside my head.

     Silence, solitude and simplicity are hard to catch in this world, especially when the first offerings of the day come from technology, politics, and the lure of money, or when my morning starts through the lens of computer, newspaper and TV. Friends tell me they love to start their day with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. I get the coffee part, but the newspaper part—not a good idea, at least for me. I find it almost impossible to avoid reading the headlines as I walk up the driveway with the newspaper, or commenting on them as I hand the paper, along with coffee, to my husband, who, needless to say, he is a coffee/newspaper man. Our one reprieve is that we start the morning mentioning what we are grateful for—which is often coffee and newspaper.
     While my husband continues with coffee and newspaper, I go to the Angel Room and once again commit to meditating for twenty minutes before continuing my morning routine of silence, solitude, simplicity, and, coffee. Starting with meditation is a daily challenge, but when I give myself this time with the Holy, the lure of technology, politics and money fades into the background, with less chance of taking over during the day.
     This centering time is important to me, not just personally, but for the planet. I believe this fragile, negative world we live in can only be turned around when the majority of its inhabitants feel, think and act positively, the essential ingredients for sending out love. Love and coffee go together.

     Saturday’s Sing Sistah Sing concert at Memorial Congregational Church (Sudbury, MA) by Andrea Baker, renowned mezzo-soprano opera singer, was undoubtedly one of the best concerts ever. I mean ever. Andrea, who grew up at MCC, returned to her home church bringing love, her love and the love of everyone who came to hear her. We all experienced community at its best.
     Community and love. It can go together, but it doesn’t always happen. Why not? Maybe too often we come together in community to get some business done, such for a committee meetings to decide this or that. Positions are taken but not all can be adopted. Even when we come with the intention to get along and fill the room with love, we are in a binary mode; this or that, one is better than the other, but only one wins.
There was nothing binary about this concert evening. It was about love, which has no opposite such as hate or fear, or even ‘indifferences’ as Elie Wiesel suggests: “The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.”
     The love shown by, with and through Andrea was beyond definition, beyond the mind. If I have to locate it somewhere, it would choose the heart. But why analyze when we can sit in the mystery and listen to this exquisite demonstration of love manifested for a few brief moment at a little UCC church in a little New England town?

     I’m glad I am still writing this blog; it keeps me grounded; it reminds me that I want silence, solitude and simplicity and sometimes like to be alone. I began it in November 2009 when I started going to the cottage-by-the sea. My goodness, seven and a half years is a long time to keep something like this going day in and day out. I think there has only been one day when I missed posting a quote of the day.
     Lately, however, my commitment to silence, solitude and simplicity has felt like a throw-away comment, like saying ‘have a good day’ but not paying attention to the meaning. I’ve become involved in activities at church, specifically Andrea Baker’s Sing Sistah Sing tonight. It is going to be wonderful. I have no regrets but my mind feels out of balance—too active at the expense of contemplation.
Consequently, my trip to Scotland May 24 to June 7 feels just right. One night in Oban, four on Iona, and eight in Edinburgh. “How About A Writing Vacation in Edinburgh?”
    Next week, under the new blog heading A Solitary Traveler, I’ll post the article about a writing vacation in Florence.

Here is an update on my Goodreads 2017 Reading Challenge. I made the commitment to read 52 for the year, figuring a book a week. So far I’ve read 44. I figure I’ll read the remaining 8 by the end of May.
This hasn’t been an overpowering challenge for me. If nothing else, Goodreads is a great place to keep track of books. But I like the challenge enough to make a mental commitment to double the number and go for 100 for the year. As long as don’t watch the news, I’ll have plenty of time to do so.
Here the list for March and April and a slideshow of some of the books. The book I just finished, A Book of American Martyrs, had over 700 pages. Well worth the time.

March 2017
Eileen, by Ottessa Moshfegh
La Bella Lingua, by Dianne Hales
Do Not Say we have Nothing, by Madeleine Thien
Flight of the Sparrow, Amy Belding Brown
The Geography of Genius, by Eric Weiner
A Full Life: Reflections at Ninety, Jimmy Carter
Today Will Be Different, Maria Semple
A Tale for Time Being, Ruth Ozeki
Morning Glory, Sarah Jio
 
April 2017
The Jesus Style, Galye D. Erwin
Death in Florence: The Medici, Savonarola, and the Battle for the
Soul of a Renaissance City, Paul Strarthern
The Gentleman in Moscow, Amor Towles
In the Name of the Family, Sarah Dunant
The Lowells of Massachusetts, Nina Sankovitch
The Undoing Project, Michael Lewis
A Book of American Martyrs, Joyce Carol Oates