Tuesday, November 28, 2006


As some of you know, I have an Irish clonmacnois cross tattoo on my back (incidentally, although inked myself I can't watch TLC's Miami Ink without wincing...ask Kate: as much as I wanted/planned for/dreamed of my tattoo, it HURT LIKE A MOTHER and her poor, consoling, hand was crushed when I had mine done).

I've had an affinity to the Celtic cross' symbolism for many years and just the other day a regular Starbucks patron gave me a quote that made me like it even more. Dennis (or "Dennecha" - his Gaelic name - which he prefers to be called), of Irish decent, who sports a golden claddagh ring (pointed outwards, to signify "single, and searching"), with two fiery, red-headed ex-wives to his name, who sports a turned-up corkscrew moustache, who orders his coffee in a deep, sultry voice ("I'll have a tall, dark, bold, fulllllllll-bodied..."), and who tells me I'm the most beautiful girl in city (liar...*blush*) handed me a photocopied piece of paper with "Celtic Cross of Journeys & Meetings" as its title. It read:

On the journey of life our paths cross a multitude of opportunities, the most challenging can be those encounters with other human beings. The meeting that may bring us fulfilment or even frustration depends on the most startling chance and circumstance. The cross, joining the vertical and the horizontal, is a symbol of the importance and pain of the encounter.

Once it is acheived there are so many obstacles in its path amid the prosaid and petty demands of life. Unions missed, unions broken, uncompleted unions, disasters, misunderstandings, estrangements. The journey from the very first meeting to true union and love, is long and arduous.

"People destined to meet will do so, at precisely the right moment."
(Ralph Waldo Emerson's Law of Spiritual Gravitation)

It makes me think of a previous post of mine where I mused about chance encounters. My life has been absolutely peppered with them. It's comforting to think they aren't haphazard.


Anonymous said...

Remember the YWAM Cambridge band that was called "Tatterdemalion" - thought they were so cool back then. Seriously, where does the time go? I know, it's like asking where butterflies go when it rains.

Heavy sigh.


Andrew G said...

**nervous laughter**

hope you're not having too many chance encounters with lusty Irishmen


Mimo said...

I like that Emerson quot. Comforting :-)

Sarah-Aubrey said...

Marilla, that's exactly why I named this post "Tatterdemalion". I love that you would know what that was in reference to...

Just one of the many reasons I love you.