Love & The Goddess (31 page)

But that’s where the problem lay. All my friends were elsewhere. Ella had gone to stay with her daughter in London and James had gotten back with his partner Alex and was driving
Alex’s band around the country doing various gigs. I obviously hadn’t achieved enlightenment. In fact, in my present state I felt as though I’d taken two steps backwards after
having taken one forward. I felt very alone, especially since I was acutely aware that Julie would soon be going on a week-long break to the Algarve with her father. I had plenty to do to keep me
occupied between catching up on laundry and planning classes for the college year ahead, and I should have been content with peace and quiet but for some reason I was discombobulated. A lovely word
that, and you really only know what it means if you feel that way, a bit like an old scarecrow with lots of stuffing hanging out and with a brain that doesn’t really work. Except I had no
Wizard of Oz to go to, and I had been to enough shamans to last me a lifetime.

I wondered was it the coca tea … Maybe it really had had an effect and I was suffering from withdrawal from that as well as the sleeping pills. I had been meditating twice daily but that
too seemed to space me out even more. In fact when I researched it by typing into a search engine “Can meditation space you out?” I got loads of hits confirming that yes, in certain
circumstances, too much meditation could make you feel spacey, if not balanced with other more active pursuits. Great! And here I was too woozy for active pursuits, so what was I to do in my
solitary state?

I found myself wondering about dating sites. Geoff had said he had moved to a different one and Ella had mentioned trying a selection of sites. Finally, I gave in to curiosity and found
Geoff’s site. He had a brand-new profile, this time calling himself “
Warholesqe”
. I liked him and was disappointed he hadn’t found me attractive. But then I had
looked like something the cat dragged in on the day we met, and I’m sure he had lots of women running after him.

I decided to put up a new profile under the name Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest; she was the closest any Goddess comes to Mother Earth, since her role as Persephone’s mother also meant
she was known as the Mother Goddess. In Peru, I’d loved the feeling that Pachamama could work through me. It would be interesting to see what would happen if I invoked her energy so I logged
on and started putting my profile together. To find that, damn it, the name was gone. Okay, I’d use a variation of the name. Demetra … no … Demetriana … that’s it,
the exotic sounding “
Demetriana
”.

Next, I uploaded some pictures of myself in Peru; one of me standing on a mountain on the way to Machu Picchu and another one in national costume on the floating island. I also uploaded a recent
photo James had taken of me wearing a navy dress with delicate art deco embroidery around the neckline and just for good measure another of me in a little black number.

It struck me that I looked a lot more confident and happy in these pictures than in the very poised photos I had used as Persephone. Odd, since the previous set had been taken while I was
married to Trevor. My shrink was seemingly correct when he said our marriage had been under strain long before we broke up and that I had been in denial. I had obviously been more like my mother
and Liz than I cared to admit. But not anymore. Now I believed in tackling issues head on before they spiralled out of control.

Cyber communication was so convenient yet it could be endlessly time consuming as blocks of days passed with me spending hours in front of my laptop. I kept in regular contact with my father
through Skype and was delighted to hear about Mam and Liz supporting him in getting therapy. Emails flew back and forth to Julie helping to banish my insecurity about her spending time with her
father. This was helped by the fact Martha had chosen not to join them in the Algarve. But the bulk of my time-wasting was spent on the dating site as the romantic in me still hankered after a
knight in shining armour. That I couldn’t fight this longing was further evidence that I had an addictive personality and found it difficult to break old habits. Living in the now was easier
on a mountain top and enlightenment was a slow process. I had however become shrewder in my use of the site, discarding the chancers and charlatans after brief correspondences, and I was no longer
interested in empty flattery or a quick fix ego boost.

One guy managed to provoke my interest all the same. His username was “
FordmodelT
”, which was a bit more interesting than “
drightone
” or
“
ilovecheese
”. I presumed it referred to an interest in vintage cars, until I saw his picture. Reclining against a wall, in an immaculately cut anthracite sports jacket over an
open-neck white shirt, his stance drew attention to a well-honed physique. The dark brown hairline formed an exaggerated widow’s peak above a tanned brow. Deep-set brown eyes smouldered at
the camera. On first impression I was convinced he had downloaded a photograph of the designer Tom Ford. The similarities were uncanny, right down to the designer stubble looking like a two or
three-day shadow. I wondered was the image a composite, perhaps a photo shopped version of Tom Ford superimposed over this guy’s photograph – the face shape was squarer and the nose
more aquiline. I looked at two other pictures he had posted on his profile and he looked a bit more normal. Less incredible, less like a movie star, less like Tom Ford, yet similar to the main
picture.

He sent me a message saying, “
Hi, your profile is really interesting and you look great in your pictures.”
No signature.

I read down through his profile. It seemed unassuming enough until I got to “profession”, which read “designer”. I fired a message straight back saying “
Thanks
for the compliments. Are you an interior designer?”
I had previously had emails from an interior designer living in Galway and found him full of affectation. To read his long introductory
message, you’d think he was saving lives, he’d banged on so much about his lofty career. As soon as I’d informed him that I lived in Galway I never heard from him again, so I
presumed he was married. Male interior designers had been added to my growing blacklist of professions to avoid on the internet. Anyway much to my surprise “
FordmodelT”
sent back
an immediate reply:

Hi Kate,

Good to hear from you. I’m actually a structural engineer specialising in sustainable home design. I encourage people to build homes which are virtually self sufficient in power and
water. I’ve just finished a huge project on an eco-friendly factory on Dublin’s north side. You may have heard about it on the news.

I’ve attached the url of my website.

Isaac

Hi Isaac,

Yes, I heard about it and was very impressed. You must be really proud to have been part of the team. I looked at your website and found it fascinating to think houses can now be so much more
efficient. Yet they looked stylish and comfortable.

Kate

Contrary to my initial prejudice, my curiosity was now aroused by both the good looks and the altruistic occupation. Isaac’s website was incredibly impressive and once again I found myself
putting a man on a pedestal as I wondered what on earth someone so talented was doing on a dating site. Was I setting another man up to be my imaginary Prince Charming? I didn’t hear back
from him but his picture would scroll across the top of my profile on a regular basis, indicating that he had been looking at my profile. I found myself hoping he would make contact, so three days
later I sent him a message telling him I could see he had looked at my profile on several occasions and I was wondering had I inadvertently insulted him.

A message came back telling me he was very shy and was intimidated by me because I dressed so well and sounded so accomplished. I was astounded and flattered. How could someone like him lack
confidence? I supposed you never knew. Eager to save his pride, I replied in a very reassuring manner that there was nothing to be concerned about as I didn’t always dress so well. “I
have bad hair days like everyone else,” I said.

Mails went to and fro and he seemed very gentle and normal, so we agreed to talk on the phone. He called me at nine o’clock one evening and we chatted as if we’d known each other all
our lives. It was not a problem that I was living in Galway and he lived in Cork as he worked here often and was currently overseeing a large project at one of the local factories. In fact, he told
me he would be in town in three days’ time and would love to bring me out for dinner. I liked his voice and he sounded like the perfect gentleman, although I reminded myself how I’d
fallen for that one before with “
Elmtree
”. After my spiritual journeys I was supposed to be watching how my monkey-mind worked hand in hand with my ego to construct false
beliefs, which would ultimately set me up for a fall. If I met him I’d need to rely on my gut but I wasn’t totally sure that would work.

In the meantime, I asked him about his photograph and he told me when he was getting pictures taken for his website, the photographer insisted on making him pose like Tom Ford. “So you get
the Tom Ford similarity all the time then?” I asked.

He laughed. “No, not all the time. That was just a bit of fun with the photographer. We had a laugh. You can only see the likeness if I haven’t shaved for a few days. I’m
generally clean-shaven. What about your photographs? When were they taken?”

“They were all taken in Peru, apart from the one in the black dress. I’m just back from holidays there.”

“Do you have any more?”

“Well, yes. But the pictures from Peru are the most recent.” I was aware that this line of conversation was all about human ego and what a woman looked like rather than who she was
inside.

“Send me any others you have. Would you mind texting back your email?”

“No problem.” Maybe I could test myself to find out had I changed since Peru or was I still intent on chasing rainbows. After the phone call, Isaac sent me several emails saying he
thought we would be very well suited and for that reason he had decided to deactivate his membership on the site. Since he would be working in Galway the following Tuesday on a new eco-friendly
home, he wished to meet me and show me the house afterwards.

I hadn’t known what to think since Isaac had bombarded me with emails and texts, ranting about his ex and increasingly suggesting he had high hopes of us having a relationship. I know
I’d been out of the dating loop a long time, but this certainly seemed like the height of Walter Mitty fantasy. I suppose I had started off like that too but I was fast becoming disillusioned
before I ever met up with him.

However, I was impressed and curious about the work he was doing. Hakalan had been very forceful in making his point about our need to care for the Earth. The Peru experience had raised my
awareness of environmental issues, as my time sitting in the mountains seemed to increase my relationship with the earth. I now saw her as Pachamama, a living breathing organism, rather than one
great big land mass under my feet. I was very excited about the prospect of seeing the eco-friendly home in west Galway – in fact, I was more interested in seeing the house than Isaac at this
stage.

As my interest in Isaac as a man began to diminish, I’d begun thinking about Geoff again. I was disappointed that he hadn’t contacted me since we met. I’d thought that perhaps
he’d make contact through this site, but no. Maybe it was up to me? But first I would have to look at his art. I took out his business card and typed in the url of his website.

His website appeared and I looked at it in disbelief. As I gazed at his paintings, I was so embarrassed I must have blushed seven shades of red through purple in the privacy of my own home.
Geoff had four separate galleries on his website devoted to “myths and legends of the old world”. There were stunning paintings in each section – Celtic mythology, Norse
mythology, Egyptian mythology and Greek mythology. He must have thought I was heartless not to have contacted him since I was so interested in myths. Hurriedly I set about composing a message:

Hi Geoff,

I hope you’re keeping well and happy. Excuse the delay in contacting you.

It was great to meet you. I love your website and can’t believe you never told me you were into mythology! The paintings are amazing, so rich and vibrant. I especially love
Pandora’s Box. The girl is so beautiful and appears so innocent as she lifts the lid to reveal such horrors. Truly you
capture the myth very well. I would love to call to see the
paintings next week when I visit Dublin. Will you be around?

Kind regards, Kate

Ten minutes later Geoff sent me a message saying he would be in Galway next Tuesday and would love to bring me out for dinner. My heart leapt in my chest with excitement.

Great. I’ll look forward to that.

Immediately I began day dreaming about what I would wear and where would be the best place to go… Or should I impress him with my cooking? Holy Moley! Suddenly I remembered Isaac had
postponed his visit until Tuesday so now I was officially double-booked. I contacted Isaac to tell him I would be able to meet him for lunch before taking a look at his eco house, but something
else had cropped up that evening.

Tuesday morning, I was woken by my phone bleeping. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I saw I had received a text from Isaac:

Excited to c u. Please cancel ur evening apt. Spend the day tgethr.

I hadn’t yet met him and I was already worn out from answering ridiculous texts and emails as though he were a needy child constantly looking for his mother’s attention. Maybe he
needed a mother figure and had been attracted to the energy of Demeter? The idea of squeezing two dates into one day was getting stressful, though Ella had told me she did three in one day –
morning coffee, lunch and dinner.