The pain was all too familiar now. It greeted Walter every day as he awoke from troubled dreams.
A sickness for which he knew no remedy. A burning pain in the pit of his stomach.
Each morning as he came round there was a tiny glimmer of hope. The hope that the pain belonged
only to the dreams and that his reality continued as beautifully as it once had. It was as if the
knife was being twisted anew each morning as the sunlight brought the real world harshly into full colour.
The pain was familiar but his surroundings were not. Slowly Walter began to remember that he had
left the comfort of his sofa home and was now across the sea in Ireland, the guest of his cousin
Seamus the leprechaun. His recollection of his arrival in Ireland the previous evening was decidedly shaky.
Like many inhabitants of his beautiful homeland, Seamus took the notion of celebrating life very literally
and had persuaded Walter to join with him in celebrating the passing of every half hour of the journey with
another Guinness. Walter vaguely recalled that once they arrived in the Emerald isle, there also seemed to
be a general air of celebration at their arrival, which had included live music and dancing on tables.
As the memories slowly returned to Walter, he realised that maybe at least some of the pain he was feeling
was the price of the night before. His attention shifted from his stomach to his mouth, which felt like he
had been eating loft insulation. He opened his eyes and the light caused the throbbing pain in his head to
sharply worsen. Like a stranded Foreign Legionnaire, all Walter could think of was water. Then a welcome
smell interrupted the torture. The smell of frying bacon so powerful that it caused his barren mouth to start
watering once more.
Seamus entered in an unnaturally buoyant mood, carrying a tray in one hand and a tin whistle in the other.
"Aaah, you've foinally come round! Oi thart you were gonna make us late fer de pub. Here, get dis down ye
and then we'll get going," said Seamus.
"What? The pub? What time is it?" Walter's stomach churned slightly at the thought of more drinking as
he took the tray from Seamus.
"It's 10 o'clock," answered Seamus.
"10 o'clock? We are going to the pub at ten o'clock in the morning?" Walter asked in astonishment.
"Well, you were still asleep earlier. But don't ye be worrying none. Oi don't tink we'll have missed much.
Oi want ye to meet Dara down there. He's our equivalent of your Magic Dave. He's a magic barman legend round
these parts. If anyone can sort out your head for ye, Dara's yer man."
"Ah, I don't know Seamus. I'm not sure more drinking's going to solve my problems. I'm not sure I want to
talk about Tallina any more. I came here to get away, to forget." As he mentioned her name, the anguish
was noticable in Walter's face and body, like he was flinching to avoid a fierce blow.
"Ha ha! Drinking's not gonna solve yer problems? Jaysus, you English are a strange lot. Oi sappose ye
tink dat foighting is 'just not cricket' too! Listen Walter, you're in Oireland now. We'll show you what
it means to be aloive. When oi've finished with ye, you won't even remember her name." Seamus placed his
tin whistle to his lips and started playing a tune which Walter didn't recognise, but which nonetheless seemed
to stir something inside him. The heady music from the previous night flooded back into his mind and for a
moment he was entranced. Then Seamus knew he had his man. Tin whistle magic never failed.
As they left Seamus' place, Walter was able to take in all that he had missed the night before. They were in a vast
underground network of caverns, one small part of which was Seamus' abode. They followed a tunnel for a short while
before emerging into a vast chamber which was criss-crossed with paths carved into the cavern floor by thousands of
passing feet. The paths led to many further openings in the cavern walls on all sides. Although there seemed to be
no signs to guide the way, Seamus strode confidently on, beckoning Walter. Eventually they reached a door which was
roughly opposite Seamus' quarters. A small picture of a tankard hung above the door with the words
'Dara Duff - Ales, Wines, Spirits and Sensational Advice' below it.
Walter looked at his watch, which read 10.45 am. He expected that they would be the first people to arrive at the pub.
But when Seamus opened the door, he was hit by a wall of noise. Walter could not believe his eyes.
The place was packed. In one corner a trio played fiddle, flute and bodhran. In front of them a flame-haired
beauty sang with a voice which sent shivers down Walter's spine. All around were animated faces. They were dancing,
singing along or trying to hold conversations above the music. A great cheer went up as Seamus entered.
From seemingly out of nowhere, another wonderfully natural looking raven-haired beauty rushed up to Seamus,
grabbing his waist and kissing him on the lips, before turning and walking away, pausing momentarily to look
over her shoulder at him once more with a dazzling glint in her eye.
Seamus pushed his way through the throng towards the bar with Walter following closely behind,
drawing interested looks from those close by. When they reached the bar, Seamus nodded at a
young looking fellow behind the bar who immediately whispered something to his colleague and then
strode over to opposite where Seamus and Walter stood.
"Is this him?" The barman asked Seamus. Walter noted that his accent was very mild. This he welcomed
as he often had to listen hard to understand Seamus, particularly when he was speaking with his fellow
country folk.
"Dis is him," Seamus confirmed. "Walter, meet Dara Duff - de greatest magic barman in all Oireland."
"Hi Dara," said Walter. He was somewhat surprised. He had been expecting someone much older. Dara
looked like he was barely old enough to serve alcohol. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"
"Don't let dat baby face fool ye," Seamus chipped in. "He's been around as long as de rest of us.
Only it seems he knows someting we don't."
"Ha ha!" Dara laughed. "I just got lucky with my parents! Anyway, Walter, Seamus tells me you might
need my help. Something about a woman is it?" As he spoke these words, Dara looked deep into Walter's
eyes. It seemed to Walter as if someone had suddenly turned the volume down in the rest of the room.
The sights around him blurred, leaving only Dara in sharp focus. "Tell me your story, Walter, and we'll
see what I can do for you. Here, get this down you." He handed Walter a glass of something that looked a
lot like whiskey. But when Walter drank it, the taste was surprisingly sweet. What remained of his hangover
instantly disappeared and a feeling of calm came over Walter as he began to relate his tale. He told Dara
of his transformation after meeting Tallina, his shock and devastation when she left him, and finally the
heartbreak of seeing her with another man on St Patrick's Day. Throughout the tale, Dara kept his eyes
fixed on Walter, saying nothing, only occasionally nodding. When Walter had finished, Dara rubbed his
chin and nodded some more. Eventually he spoke.
"Though you say that you do, you do not truly love this woman right now," Dara said.
"What?" Walter's anger rose swiftly at the suggestion. "How the hell do you know? Who are you to tell
me what I am or am not feeling? I do bloody love her. I cannot stop thinking of her. I cannot function
properly. What the hell would you know about it?"
"I tell you again that you do not!" Dara remained expressionless as he calmly repeated his assertion.
"Real love is unconditional." Dara continued. "The fact that you are feeling so much pain indicates that
you had some conditions. I suspect that one of your conditions was to be loved back. That is a selfish
condition. You wanted that for you. You feel you somehow deserve it in return for the 'love' that you gave
to her. Real love is never selfish or needy. You want her with you and you want something from her. If you
understood what love really is, you would not be feeling this pain. When you truly love, then loving is its
own reward. You do not love with the expectation of being loved back. You love because to love lifts you
to a higher level of being, regardless of whether you get something back or not.
"If you truly loved right now, then you would be feeling only feelings of love and compassion when you
thought of Tallina. You would be wishing her happiness whatever choices she makes. The pain comes from a
sense of disappointment and loss. You feel that you are missing out on something which you deserve.
You particularly think you deserve it more than this biker feller. You also feel that you have lost
something that you were once being given. But real love is given freely and asks for nothing in return.
Therefore there can be no feelings of disappointment or loss. It is in the giving that you are fulfilled."
"But I experienced such a deep level of happiness when I was with her. A happiness that I had never even
contemplated before." Tears began to well up in Walter's eyes as he spoke these words. "If that was not
love, then what the hell was it?"
"It is likely that during moments with her you caught a glimpse of what real love is. When you forgot
about the myriad of thoughts that normally compete to occupy your mind and became truly present in the
blissful moments you spent with her. When you temporarily brought out the beauty of your true self in
the presence of someone doing the same. Your mistake is thinking that it was she who brought you that
feeling, when the truth is that it is something that you both brought out of yourselves in those moments
when you remembered your true selves. When that happened, you were able to give freely to each other.
If you had both been able to sustain that, you would not need my help now."
"You can learn to do this all the time, whether you are with someone or not. Love is given freely from a
position of strength by people who already have it in abundance, because they have realised that the beauty
and value of their true selves can be accessed at will. Deeply fulfilling relationships can be created
when two such people decide to spend time together. If you want true love, first you need to learn this
for yourself, then you will be ready to seek another who has also learned it. Until then, speak not of love,
for you are deceiving yourself." As he finished the last sentence, Dara broke eye contact with Walter and
looked over his shoulder. Suddenly Walter could hear the intoxicating music once more and the room around
him came back into focus. He felt a soft hand grabbing his and gently pulling. It was the same dark haired
vision of beauty that had kissed Seamus on the way in. She beckoned Walter out onto the dance floor.
His head was swimming with thoughts stirred up by Dara's words. The rhythm of the music and the many voices
around him were hypnotising Walter as he allowed himself to be led. Eyes sparkling with joy looked deeply
into his as his body started to move in time with the band.
"Hoiya Walter," said his unexpected partner as she pressed her soft cheek against his to get close to his ear.
Her delicate feminine voice soothed Walter's mental turmoil. The accent which Walter thought sounded rough
when spoken by Seamus had suddenly become melodic and exotic. "Oi'm Saoirse. Dat's Freedom in English.
Seamus told me a lot about ye. But oi want to foind out some more."
Although each tale stands on it own, Elf Tales is a series of stories best read from the beginning so that you get to know the colourful characters. To read more in the series, click here.
The Happy Cow website and all articles on it are created entirely voluntarily and free of charge. However, if you feel that anything on the site has been of value to you, you may wish to make a voluntary contribution to the upkeep of the site. Click on the 'Donate' button below.
If you have an inspiring tale or some interesting philosophy to share with us, please feel free to e-mail your ideas to
contributions@happycow.org.uk.