Going out into the world, my late father always said, so long as you have a pound in your pocket and a tongue in your head, you will be fine. I am not sure he realised to what extent that would be true.
A few years ago, I accepted a job at an international company, but naively I didn’t think I would have to travel. At the time, being a mother to a 2½-year-old, jet-setting was the furthest thing from my mind. But I went with it, and my job has taken me to some of the most beautiful places in the world.
Being reared by the wild coast of Belmullet, Co Mayo, had set a pretty high bar on the scenic front. Summers were spent playing with cousins and friends long into the evening. Those days seemed to go on for years. We didn’t need to see the world through holidays abroad.
However I was always aware there was something much bigger to explore. Was it an underlying travel bug or maybe my inquisitive Irish nature?
It wasn’t that I actually had to go anywhere, I had enough books and music to keep the bug at bay for a while. At university, I loved getting to know the foreign students, many are still my good friends. But I wanted to see the world, and once I got going, there was no stopping me.
I often couldn’t believe my luck. Sitting at a tea ceremony in Kyoto, while trying to be present and appreciate the ritual of making matcha, I couldn’t switch my mind off from the fact that I was actually in Japan.
I was with a little group from all over the world. All sitting there finding peace in ritual and while we were at it, accepting each other. Take everyone as they come, was a mantra reiterated by my parents regularly. This advice has helped me to work with people from many countries. I approach each situation with an open mind and a sprinkle of empathy.
Growing up in Ireland, I learned very early on that this is a life of duality. You can be at a wedding one day and a wake the next. This gave me an inherent knowing that nothing lasts for ever. I learned to take the rough with the smooth, and if something doesn’t work out, life goes on.
When I visited Zambia, I never felt as insignificant as standing along towering Victoria Falls known locally as Mosi-oa-Tunya – the “Smoke that Thunders”. The ferocity of the falls not only showed me the power of nature but how powerless we are. Coming from Belmullet, the sea has always had an impact on me. The sound, the smell, the stillness on a summer’s day, hiding the fury that was often unleashed. The duality of life.
Victoria Falls
Our history of emigration has given us a great reputation worldwide. It was always a part of life where I grew up. My grandmother would always have some story of someone who left Belmullet, often barely a teenager, with nothing and managed to make it big in the world.
Over the years while watching TV together, she would often ask me, “Why don’t you do that, aren’t you as good as them?” I was no where near at the time, but it certainly gave me the permission to try.
Which is what I did for a long time. I first moved from the west to Dublin, studying at DCU and DIT, and interning after graduation in Dublin and London.
It took me years of random jobs and empty promises and most of all, resilience, before I landed my first proper job.
While in Shanghai, a dynamic city which in many ways feels like it is already in the future, I attended a t’ai chi class. During the graceful, deliberate movements of this centuries-old practice, we were reminded that progress isn’t about speed, it’s about balance, awareness, and respect for where we’ve come from.
I have been lucky to have travelled so many places for work with my family in tow. Seeing the world through my son’s eyes is such a blessing. I can see it has made a strong impact on him – and has left him accepting of people and situations.
Erris Head, Mullet Peninsula, Co Mayo. Photograph: Genevieve Carbery
However, no destination brings me greater joy than returning home to Belmullet. My mother’s care, concern and delicious cooking, road trips with my sisters, the unbeatable craic on a night out and the Erris Head walk which still takes my breath away.
But it is those chats over cup after cup of tea about everything and nothing with family and friends, which serve as the ultimate cleanse for the soul.
Last summer in the vibrant Mexico city, I visited artist Frida Kahlo’s house. Here I saw the bed where she spent a lot of her time recovering from illness. On her last painting days before she died, she scribed, Viva La Vida, which translates to long live life.
These words have stayed with me since. Life presents many unexpected opportunities, but not always at the most convenient time. And for me, taking one these random chances, has shaped my life in wonderful ways I could never have predicted.
Rita Burke (Carolan) is Head of Member Experience for HLB International, a top eight global network of independent advisory and accounting firms headquartered in London. She studied Communications at DCU and an MA in PR from DIT.