View from the Pier

Des Dempsey, 42, is from the West of Ireland, and well-traveled. I had the pleasure of meeting and spending some time with Des while on a trip to Ireland with my mom during the summer of 2007. At one point, we were in Northern Ireland, at a spectacular beach in Portrush, en route to the Giant’s Causeway, a mythical spot I was very keen to see. The weather had been cold and rainy (surprise, surprise!) and suddenly the sun burst through the clouds.

I got very agitated and said “We have got to boogie over to the Giant’s Causeway now to see it while the sun is out, let’s go, hurry!” Very calmly and kindly, in words I can’t remember, Des pointed out the futility of that kind of thinking, suggesting that instead I enjoy the sun where it was shining at that moment.

And so, at 48, on the beach in Portrush, in the sunlight, I had a little awakening about being in the moment.

Some of my photographs from that beach, and other locales along the trek that summer, accompany this interview. {For more Ireland pictures, see the Travel Photos on Home Page}

Meg: Tell me a little bit about your “journey,” the highlights.

Des: My life—it has been far more interesting than I ever imagined it would be as a boy. Without ever having quite planned it, I’ve managed to travel and see much of the world, learning so much in the process and have touched on more. There have had fierce highs and terrible lows, crazy extremes, much fun, love, laughter and tears of course. I have enjoyed it endlessly and I am only just getting started.

Meg: What interests would you say are the primary motivators for your lifestyle today?

Des: Would you believe—to express my being as fully as possible on the canvas that is this life.

The satisfaction is in expressing myself, the how of it isn’t that important. Anything that adequately does that, that challenges and engages me will do the trick. I enjoy writing and have been known to mess around with paint. Two recent projects that I am particularly proud of, that I was able to put a lot of myself into—designing and building a sauna and putting together a tour around the West of Ireland.

Meg: Have you always had those interests, or did they evolve, and can you describe how they came about?

Des: I have always had the drive to do and be. The how has changed and grown as I have. I have always had an interest in history, any history—what people did, the whys and the hows. When I studied it in school it was broadly portrayed and it all made sense. Reading around the subject over the years, combined with my own experience has changed that impression. Where once I saw broad outlines, I now see subtleties—the story of people living normal lives, much like our own.

Meg: What role does travel play in your life?

Des: Travel has introduced me to so many new things, facilitated my growth and understanding of the world and myself.

In my twenties I ended up working in Asia, on the Chinese periphery. Having grown up entirely in the West, it was such a shock to see how different people could perceive things—in fact: life, death, reality, individuality, consciousness, God, you name it—how they all work, their shape, the most basic of things. In the West we largely see things as linear, with clear lines drawn, in the East its circular, more fluid. It was quite an education.

Meg: What are a couple of the places you’ve been that were the most awe-inspiring for you, and why?

Des: The Redwood Groves of Northern California jump to mind. Their sense of grandeur, history and majesty leave me in awe.

There are so many places that inspire me. I am resisting naming names though. There are already far too many people doing that. Better to let people find their own places that speak to them.

Meg: Have there been any powerful “aha moments,” as far as discerning your purpose or direction?

Des: My sense of purpose and direction in life are things that have gradually come to consciousness over time. “Aha moments” for me tend to be like flashes of lighting on a darkened landscape, illuminating a particular direction I should take.

I have to say I am very suspicious of the term “aha moments.” It raises expectations so high—that understanding will be just handed out on a plate. To me it seems too much like something from a movie. For example, in a movie, love and relationships are portrayed as effortless, but those who have experienced serious relationships know just how much hard work needs to go into them. When a lover gives you a glimpse of their soul, it is a gift. It is not something that comes easily or lightly. “Aha moments” I think are mostly the same and I think they should be treated as the exception rather than the rule; something gifted after hard work, trust, much love and connection. Was it Rumi, the poet, who described the universe as you would a lover?

I am more a believer in Aha continuums––not nearly as catchy a name I know. If you were to graph a moment on a chart, it would be a point. A continuum would be a series of points, making a line—a much safer thing to bet on. For example, the crazy job I mentioned earlier. At the time I was at a loose end. I knew where I wanted and needed to go in the larger scheme of things and that it would take a lot of cash to get there, but on an immediate level, it was all flapping in the wind. Looking around me, everything seemed to point to my returning to a particular town that I knew and liked. I had no reason to go back there, but that place kept coming up in conversations and in the end someone all but grabbed me by the arm and demanded a lift there. So I went and was all but met at the gate of a friend’s house with news of a job going. It didn’t look promising, but having come that far I thought “what the hell” and took it when it was eventually offered and everything worked out. No aha moment in there exactly but it all added up. That’s how things generally works I think, if you let them.

Meg: What have been your biggest challenges, and how have you dealt with them?

Des: My biggest challenge has been to bridge the gap between where I am in myself and where I feel I should be. That kind of becoming is a matter of hard work, courage, perseverance and keeping faith with oneself.

Meg: What are the greatest joys?

Des: To be present in the moment, especially beautiful moments, like when I was digging garden the other day. After a long, dark, rainy wet winter, it was such a relief to be able to be comfortably outside. The sun was shining, it was warm, with not a cloud in the sky. The evening bright and stretching towards midnight, the air fresh, the birds singing and my local Robins, their breasts blazing, dancing from sod to sod in search of worms. The smell of soil and grass in the air.

Meg: Can you describe an experience where a stranger made a difference in your day?

Des: In the early 1990’s in Manhattan, New York, I was on Park Avenue shoveling snow in the middle of a heavy snowstorm. I was wearing a heavy coat, but had no hat. Someone stopped in front of me. Glancing up, there was an old black man standing there looking at me. I can still see his eyes. “Put your hat on son,” he said. In a big city like NY, amidst the violence and anger that dogged its streets at that time and on a day like that, the man’s kindness and obvious humanity was a thing of wonder.

Meg: Have you ever had an experience where you took a wrong turn, literally or figuratively, and found something that you wouldn’t have wanted to miss?

Des: As a teenager, I once went cycling to a friend’s house, but got completely lost along the way. A few months later I found myself in the same area and having been there before, could easily find my way this time. The experience taught me that I should be slow to judge, as the value of things and experiences are often not immediately apparent.

Meg: When and where was the first time you traveled alone and what were your biggest impressions of that experience?

Des: The first time I traveled alone was when I was 18, to a small island off France. The experience gave me great confidence in my ability to travel successfully.

No particular experience, but perhaps a combination of all of them gave me that confidence. Having done and chanced a lot of things over the years—some of them have come off and others haven’t, but they all taught me much regardless—how to deal with situations, people, myself, when to push things and when to back off. It’s all taught me much and given me confidence in my own abilities. Doing all that stuff, be it work, travel or whatever, has made me realized too that in the end I’ll get through things, successfully or otherwise, it’ll all pass and looking back to some of the failure, they taught me far more than any of my successes. It’s like {cycling to my friend’s as a teenager}, tomorrow’s success could hinge on today’s failure, so can that failure really be called a failure?

Meg: A lot of people question their “inner voice,” or intuition, fearing it is just wishful thinking. Has that been an issue for you, and, if so, how have you dealt with it?

Des: No, I’ve always trusted my intuition and generally regretted it when I haven’t. Experience has shown it to be generally right, though not necessarily immediately understandable. I treat it as I would the advice of an old friend.

Meg: Could you recommend three sites or locales that everyone should visit, and why?

Des: I think we each have to find our own places. The reward is in finding them. Travel certainly broadened my mind, and seeing things writ so large in Asia certainly got my attention, but just because a particular place and a time touched me doesn’t mean it can do the same for another. One time I was looking in awe at a towering, magnificent Redwood. Afterwards, listening to the guy beside me talk to his companion, it was clear that all he saw was a big tree. We each have to find our own.

Meg: Can you describe an instance or experience in which you felt self-doubt or fear, and, how you dealt with that?

Des: One time I pushed things so hard and had such a bad day that the first field I got to, I went and lay in the middle of it and cried out—Why, why? That night I had a dream that explained everything. When you put yourself in the hands of the universe, you will not be let down.

Meg: Is there an example—or two—that you can share of an experience that you considered an affirmation that you were ‘on the right path,’ so to speak?

Des: Another time, I took a crazy job because everything seemed to point to it being the thing to do. At a stopover at a small and very remote airport on the way there, I was wandering around, wondering if I had done the right thing. Casually turning over a book left on a table, I recognized it—just an ordinary novel, but with strong connotations for me. I took it as a sign that I was on the correct path.

Meg: What are some of your spiritual practices?

Des: Vipassana Meditation: it is very simple. You just focus on your breath to the exclusion of all else. It is easier said than done, but with practice is very calming.

Meg: How much of your decision-making is faith-based, and how much is based on ‘practical’ considerations?

Des: When you think about it, most decisions are faith-based to some extent. As a practical person I try to be practical in how I go about things, but other than that I think the sky is the limit.

Meg: Can you share anecdotes or illustrations about two or three of your biggest life lessons?

Des: If I was to offer someone advice about how to actively live one’s truth, even when they don’t know what it is, I would say to look around them and to act on what they see—every day. To get into the habit of it. If they see a piece of litter pick it up, if a child smiles at them, smile back.

The size of the action is not important, or even the rightness of it, especially at first. The fact that they do it is the most important thing. Everything else will come after that.

Meg: What do you consider your greatest responsibilities?

Des: To be true to myself.

Meg: What do you want your legacy to be?

Des: A few beautiful buildings and a smile and more in the hearts of those I’ve touched.