Tealight

As far as life ambitions go, climbing a volcano has never been on my list.

Yet a couple of weeks ago on holiday,  I found myself uphill on one of the most active volcanoes on earth. A five hour trek (three hours up, two hours down) and the same view of the person in front of me pretty much the whole time. We were promised spectacular views. We went in the afternoon so we could watch the sun set. Our group had left an hour later than expected. Oh, and it was cloudy.

It was outrageously cloudy.

1.5 hours in, and I was pretty bored. Confusingly so, as we'd endured a lot of stress in the days before - featuring one cancelled bus (bank holiday problems), one missed ferry, one delayed, stressful journey towards another ferry, and arrival on an island so beautiful that the best thing to do is to sit on a beach, except that it was raining (the worst weather all winter, apparently). Adventuring at last was surely a reason for excitement, yet boredom ensued. The cloud got thicker. Our hair got wetter. We reached the top.

Except it was cloudy, so it was a bit difficult to see the crater. It looked a little like this:

Not one of my finest photography moments.

We laughed on the way down. Actually, we couldn't see our feet so there was a possibility that we would crash to a cloudy, ashy death. But we laughed, and we sang, and we thought of titles for this very blog post. And on the way I learnt about an analogy involving a tealight. 

Tealights omit very little light - they only show us what's immediately in front of us. Quite like climbing down a volcano in cloud, or later when we only had a head torch to illuminate our way. But the best thing to do with a tealight is to appreciate its purpose, rather than trying to see more than you can. You'll only be disappointed if you try. 

Our holiday was a bit like following a path of tealights - we had no idea what public transport would mean for our plans (which afterwards involved a cancelled ferry and running frantically for a train), but the best thing to do was to simply embrace it. 

Everyone should holiday in Sicily; I fell in love with its landscape, culture and excellent gelato. But as usual, I do love the metaphor, and my explorations reminded me that embracing the tealight in your hand is the best way to do life. Living in the present, excited for what's ahead, but not trying to see more than you need to. 

Tealight: "a small, squat candle in a metal case, used for decoration or within a stand to keep food or drink warm".