Chris McDonnell, UK
christymac733@gmail.com

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Feb 6, 2019

The Journey Man

Companionship on a journey gives rest and consolation when it is needed. It is what friendship is all about, a lift on the way, a helping hand when the going gets hard, an opportunity to share joy. It is the never-ending task of teachers and poets. They offer moisture to parched lips. In recent weeks we have lost both an Irish teacher and an American poet and we are poorer in the event.

The teacher, a priest of the Leeds diocese, well-known for his writing, a frequent contributor to the Tablet, a leader of many retreats both at home and abroad, was Fr Daniel O’Leary. He died in late January after illness.

I have known Donal over many years for he was the chaplain of St. Benedict’s Secondary school in Leeds where I taught in the late 60s. When I left to move to Merseyside, our paths diverged and for many years my only contact with him was through his articles and books. Then six years ago we met up again and renewed friendship with the frequent exchange of e-mails, poetry and articles. Always a man to encourage with joy and humour, he kept me going.

He was forever on the move, giving talks, inspiring retreats and other gatherings. In one email he invented a donkey called Owen - why he chose that name I will never know - but Owen was his transport and the butt of his grumbles when he had any. He appeared every so often in our exchanges.

But there was much more to him than that. Writing of his passing on the ACP website, a Dublin priest, Seamus Ahearne, gave this appreciation of the man.

“He wrote with the beauty of the Irish language enriching the English. The warmth and richness of his incarnate God was sprinkled everywhere. His God was smiling. His God danced and sang. His God was alive and teasing. His God was alerting us to views we hadn’t even thought of. He was wonderful.”

And he was. He touched many lives and we were the better for his company.

A few days before he died, an award-winning American poet, Mary Oliver concluded her journey. A poet of distinction with many published collections, she was essentially an outdoors person, living much of her life near Provincetown, Massachusetts. Her poems are uncomplicated and so often reflect her experience of long walks and perceptive observation. In one of her best-known poems, “When Death Comes” she wrote:

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.

I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder

if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,

or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world”.

Her words made a difference to many. Her poem ‘The Summer’s Day’ concludes with these few words,” Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

She showed us the world that is all about us and offered us a chance to share in its mystery. Her Selected Poems -‘Devotions’- were published in 2017 and is widely available.

So we return to our starting point. Donal’s home page on his website is entitled ‘Begin with the heart’. ‘Where then do we begin?’ Meister Eckhart was asked. ‘Begin with the heart’ was his response. And that is what both he and Mary Oliver share, an appreciation that life is the fullest expression of love and we have a responsibility to share it, one with another. On a journey help comes from our companions. The Emmaus story is the message of the Gospel in only a few words. These words of the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nath Hanh are also on Donal’s home page: “I have arrived, I’m here, the destination is every step”. One step at a time.

My own response to the conclusion of his journey was to write a few words of reflection for having passed the same way. May he rest in the peace of the Lord that he showed each one of us.

“You

journey-man, road-travelling companion

whose written word, crafted with care

woke so many mornings with a smile

whose faith was voiced with courage

lived from the humour of an Irish soul,

your destination firm-folded

within each stuttering step.

    Walk on.

Your dancing eyes and joy-filled laughter

remain beyond the pain of immediate loss.

We gather the gifts you gave us

wrapped in language, lived through example

touched with tenderness and the compassion

                                        of an open heart.

Gifts now ours to carry and to share,

each on our own Emmaus road,

this way we say goodbye to friends

  lost in the drift of countless stars”

END