Alegria

Friday 13th is often said to be an unlucky day. For me it brought pure Alegria (happiness).

The day started early, I was in Motril by 9am. The fine grey material covering the inside of the roof of my 18 year old car had collapsed in places, so driving - when the window was open- had become like having a large sheet trampolining on and off my head .
There was a real possibility of being enshrouded at any moment, so, it had to be fixed.

There was a real possibility of being enshrouded at any moment, so, it had to be fixed.
 The repair job was going to take four hours. It would coast 100€.

I took a new book to read to bide my time.
It was too hot to go exploring the city.
The book had been waiting to be picked up for at least three months. Funny how the day, the hour, the minute have to be just right for each new read.
 Called 'An Irish Tale of a Modern Mystic' the author,Tantra Matt, was a friend of a friend.

The day promised to be a scorcher. To pass the four hours peacefully, I planned to move from cafe to cafe, reading, alternating between decaf coffees and glasses of ice cold water.

 During my first delicious decaf coffee con leche (with milk) - sitting on the terrace of the bar opposite the garage- my attention was taken by a filthy little dog shaking with fear. Completely confused, he seemed to be searching for his owner, or desperately, unsuccessfully, trying to come up with a plan B. Where to go, what to do?


Obviously abandoned some time ago, he was a picture of neglect, terror, and helplessness. His mangy long tail looked like a feather duster dipped in something sticky.

I tried to attract his attention. This is not a habit of mine. I am not a doggy person, yet. He smelt the food from the bar and came closer. Then he noticed me making odd faces and strange noises, and smiled. Well, something akin. It didn't take long for us both to fall deeply in love.

And when it happened, he transformed into a joyful little acrobat ,dancing around me leaping half cartwheels in the air, licking my toes, shivering with delight. Every few seconds he stopped to scratch. Finally he came to rest lying on my feet, tranquillo, safe, snug, and peaceful.

My heart felt like a large chocolate cake fresh out of the oven, or maybe a helium balloon, or maybe just zapped.

 I called him Alegria (Happiness).
 His transformation was awesome.


With the smallest bit of effort on my part laced with loving encouragement and the intention to calm his fear, the bright happy clown in him popped out, and I told him that if he was here when I came back for my car, I'd take him home and love him.

 Next cafe.
 The book was drawing me deeply into realms of the mysterious Celtic unknown, yet it was all strangely familiar. 


The noise of the traffic disappeared as I read about wild Ireland, my birth country, my lost heritage, the place of my primal wound. The country where my little life had been like this dogs , well kind of.
 I knew a few of the characters and places mentioned in the book, and was happily highlighting lines I wanted to remember,100% intrigued by the authors extraordinary psychic gifts and courage.

 Love.
Huge alegria.
 Motril. Spain.
High summer, 38 degrees at least.
More ice cold drinks.

 I felt connected to a stream, a flow of alegria in a simple street side cafe, on Friday the 13th of July, just six days after a not so joyful birthday. Well the evening was lovely, but the morning wasn't.
 Why had this little dog opened the door of my heart so wide ?


 'The power of a mystery is that you can never fully understand it. You only experience it. This is the joy of heaven on earth. I let myself be held by this energy' writes Tantra Matt.

 I certainly let myself be held by that energy of Love all morning, and many magical things started to happen every time I moved cafe !

 Every time I looked up from reading, I saw right in front of me a person with an extremely severe leg problem. Each leg problem was different. I watched how these brave people managed to move, with their  sticks or crutches, how they sat down, how they got up.

I began to have a sense that the solution to my own leg problem will be found in Ireland.

 Tantra Matt , the author, brings Americans, probably of ancient Irish origin, back to their roots on Vision Quests, so they can remember who there were, and what they've forgotten.

She writes:

 'I realize that we all long to be recognized for who we truly are. Why ? Without being seen as what we truly are, something fundamental is missing. We are run by fear. When we know who we are, we trust our choices. Risk is easier because what we are risking is based on the strength and clarity that comes form that deep self-knowledge.'

 I trusted my choice to adopt Alegria, if he was still at the cafe.

 He wasn't.

 Alegria found in any form is never lost. I believe friendship of any kind is an 'act of recognition.'

 I found the same recognition, the same alegira -different scenario- in a person in Bolivia seven weeks ago.
 And when I found it again in Motril on Friday 13th, I know now with hindsight, that nothing needs to happen.
The heart has been touched.
The Heart knows it's own destiny.
We don't.

 John O'Donohue said:
  'The mystery (Love) never leaves you alone...'

 Catherine Ann Jones said: 'Your job as an author is the find the story within the story.' 


Tantra Maat : www.metapoints.com.