A long whispered message was how it delivered itself to me. My first novel inspired by a my first journey in Peru. I was so curious about the ending as I wrote. But as I wrote those last words I realised there the is no such thing as an ending. Sequels and prequels sprung up all around my heroines messy world.
The sense of purpose during writing was intense, creative and invigorating. It felt like justice was being offered, a voice being given to hidden hearts, female hearts, the kind that were destined to suffer in silence as the world carried on rejoicing in love and nurture.
The fact that the writing was inspired by the land of Pacha Mama in reverence to ‘Mother Earth’ added all the more to the sense of destiny.
I cannot help but wonder if our experience of an ‘un-balanced’ world is due to an obscured understanding of what it is to love and be loved. When our perception is distorted from the beginning we can be left floundering for a lifetime to restore harmony.
So, when my Kitty Clinch heroine failed once more in her attempt to restore that harmony I wondered what would it really take for such a woman to meet her fears head on?
As I returned to journey in Peru a second time, I set myself this challenge on behalf of Kitty and all those other women who keep their lonely tears to themselves. Commitment to another, demonstration of lovingness, kindness all those graceful attributes so desirous in romantic entanglements, they were all on offer to one who professed he was in need of same and ready to offer.
The words ‘I do not love you,’ followed by ‘my heart is closed,’ seemed cruel and incredulous after travelling such a long road of discovery. To women whose hearts are the most sensitive and wounded I can offer some advice. If you risk emotional break-down to finally believe in love, better to place yourself in an exotic location such as Peru, so as when you hear those devastating words as least you can look out the window momentarily and admire the Inca ruins on a gloriously sunny day.
In reality I was hurtling headlong into heartache. I could not stop myself. In the coming weeks I did all I could to reject the claims of this confused man. He was in pain, suffering from stress, he needed help. I would put my own desires to one side and help as a loyal friend. The Universe needed to see me doing this. It felt like I had to right a serious wrong, to lift a life-long curse.
And so I made a number of trips to Cuzco. While I hid much of my distress from my Peruvian friends I always kept family and friends (in Ireland and Peru) informed as to my movements.
At my new lodging in Ollantaytambo, my friendly host was more serious as I left that first morning for Cuzco. He gave me his mobile number and repeated in both English and Spanish, ‘we are family, remember.’ I nodded to show understanding. It was comforting and I understood his concern but I still had to go and see through the ending of this current saga which I had entertained for almost a year.
And so I left for Cuzco.
©Caroline Cunningham Author of Wild Star Landing (Blog)