Mabon - Part 1: Standoff

I went to a Mabon festival this weekend.  A pagan holiday that marks the Autumn Equinox, Mabon is a harvest festival. It is the time to acknowledge the transition into longer periods of dark vs light. From this point until the Winter Solstice, the days will grow shorter and the nights will grow longer. Despite the turn to longer darkness, it is a celebration of the fruits of our labors.

The Boys From That Band were the entertainment for the evening. They are a fun group of musicians that play alternative Celtic rock. They have a more steampunk themed song about a magical airship. "We never know where we'll go until we're finally there..." Take a listen to Professor James and feel the joy of freedom from expectation:

At the festival I tried a new Scotch, but I also had a chance to put Caol Ila to the test in my first side-by-side tasting. A friend of mine knew of my recent interest in Caol and offered to bring what remained of his bottle to the festival so I could meet him again - this time next to Talisker Storm.

 
We were camping, so we were using 8oz ball jars at a picnic table for the tasting. The small cooking fire crackled nearby, paying homage to one of one of my favorite flavors in a Scotch.

In color, there was an immediate difference. Caol Ila was much paler that Talisker. I noticed a harsher and more floral nose in the Caol than I did when I first met him. I didn't sense the usual strong smoke from Talisker, but I think it was partly the glass. After adding the water, Caol's nose seemed more fruity, and the taste was good, but there were flashes of flavors that I did not like. For a brief moment something reminded me of the smell of hospital plastic. Thankfully, that faded quickly.



Talisker...was as wonderful as I remembered him. Smoky, sweet, spicy, and alive.

Caol really didn't seem to be much competition after all...but how could I have thought them so close the other day, when it was just him that I was tasting?

There is something that happens when you become familiar with a flavor, or a circumstance, or probably even a person. I call it the pleasure of familiarity. It is said familiarity can breed contempt, but there is also comfort in it (at least for a time). It's the stuff of home court advantage, and the flip side to expectation.

When something is new and we are still learning about it, expectations can be "premeditated disappointments." But after we already know a thing, a different kind of expectation settles in. When we know something, we expect it to continue being as we know it, and that is the pleasure of familiarity. 

It's the satisfaction of an expectation - 

the expectation that a thing we enjoy remains as we know it to be.

The more familiar we are we something,

the stronger this effect can be. I think this is a big reason why, when placed side-by-side, Caol seemed much different than I remembered. While I'm sure he is a fine and fun fellow, I think at our first meeting I was only picking up on the aspects of him that reminded me of the one I am most familiar with - that being Talisker.  But when the original creator of the familiarity of those flavors was available for immediate comparison, the subtle differences became vast and undeniable. 

This begs the question though - do we enjoy something in and for itself, or do we enjoy it because it is familiar and therefore satisfying of expectation? And if the latter, how far can something stray from true enjoyment before we realize it through the rose-colored glasses of familiarity? Or am I putting an unfair twist on the pleasure of familiarity; does it matter why we feel enjoyment from something or only that we do?

I think the answer, as with most things, lies somewhere in the middle. As the length of the days and nights wax and wane through the year, so does the effect of the familiar on our enjoyment of something. I believe the effect is powerful and honest, but it can delay the awareness of a fading pleasure. Something like how even after the Winter Solstice, when the days begin to grow longer again, the weather will still get colder at first. It takes time for the shift to bring the days and nights into balance again and allow for the warmth to return.

The Solstice is still months away, though, so we have only just begun our journey into colder days. For now, we celebrate the seasons, the harvest, and all the joys of life, no matter how fleeting they may be.

When Fallen Angels Fly

I was on a group retreat of sorts this weekend. We each had our own things we were working on, and different issues we hoped to gain some clarity on. There were, however, some common themes that ran through many of our journeys. One of these was the idea of brokenness. More specifically, the opportunity that can be found in our trials and tragedies for a breaking open - making room for growth or the chance to become something greater. 

The japanese art of kintsukuroi does just this, and it is a beloved metaphor for the alchemy of the heart. We can take what was is broken and lost within us and mend it with gold - becoming greater in value and more beautiful than before.

Patty Loveless sings here of Fallen angels and mended wings; if you can relate, break open a bottle and pour yourself a glass of golden elixir as I tell you of the tasting of Caol Ila 12.

My housemate and I had gone salsa dancing, and upon returning home decided to have a snack and some whisky. I introduced him to Talisker Storm since they hadn't met. For myself, I opened the second single-dram sample from the gift set my friend bought me.

Bringing the small bottle to my nose upon opening, I found that strong bacon smell, just like Talisker Storm had when I first met him. After pouring into the glass, the nose was softer with perhaps some fruity tones. The first sip and my immediate thought was silky. Caol Ila was smooth and hot; I was impressed.



Adding the water opened him up a bit, and I found him sweet and smoky, with a bit of briny flavor, and still so smooth. While I don't remember Talisker being smooth like that, in so many ways Caol reminded me of him. "Gosh," I thought to myself,  "if someone told me this was Talisker I was drinking, I would believe them."

As my housemate and I conversed over whisky and fruity-tasting avocado, the idea of "faking it till you make it" came up. He offered this nugget of wisdom:

"No one really knows how to do anything; we're all just faking it. But if you know how to start something, you have an advantage over most."

Is that true? Is that the key to succeeding at anything - just jumping in and figuring it out as you go? It may very well be. Something I've learned in life is that you need to set goals, and start down a path to reach them. Another thing I've learned is that life will almost always make that road shift, and you better be ready to change your goals.


It's a fine, faded, and sinuous line between which is the better quality on this journey - determination or flexibility.  And it's that very elusive line that life challenges us to travel on.

Something can seem so sure and real and lasting, and then we come around a bend, and our entire perspective has shifted. What seemed entirely un-doubtable becomes suddenly that, and as the small cracks form in our faith, our confidence, and our resolve...we have a choice.

Do we leave the broken dreams there in the dust, or do we carry on with them, and fill the cracks with gold?

I'm not ready to move on from Talisker quite yet, but as I more frequently am finding Scotches that I want to explore further, I realize part of his mystique is being challenged. I at least need to taste these two side by side; the similarities to me are too close. Talisker was right there, and I could have done it then, but since this was my first meeting with Caol, it didn't feel right. I think Talisker has more of sarcastic bite to him - Caol is probably smoother, and Talisker may be a little deeper in complexity, but I'm not entirely sure which of the two I would prefer. 

 

It's been a while since I bought a bottle to take home with me, but this one is next in line for sure. One step at a time on this journey, and I'll see where it takes me.