MY STORY
THIS IS WHERE I LET YOU SEE BEHIND THE CURTAIN AND YOU REALISE THERE ISN'T MUCH GOING ON BACK THERE AFTER ALL. IT'S ALSO WHERE I FEEL MOST UNCOMFORTABLE. SO NOW YOU KNOW.
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LIFE IS SHORT
“Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.” – John Lennon I blinked once and 20 years had passed. Okay I’m obviously exaggerating to make a point but you can see where I’m headed. I remember thinking when I reached 50 that I had passed the point where I had lived for more years than I could reasonably expect to continue living (negotiations are still open on that one but high hopes indeed!). It was a negative thing but it was a bit of a wake-up call because for most if not all of that time I was planning what I would do with my life. There I was at half a century and still thinking about what I’d like to be when I grow up. You can, of course, take that either of…
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THE STONE
I recently wrote a post about a semi-conscious image that intrigued me enough to write a short “poem” posing an important question. The image was based on the notion of whether I believed I was best represented by a stone, a rock or a mountain. I wanted to use the imagery to make me think about how my current journey through life might be seen and therefore where this journey might lead me from here. The more I thought about the three elements of this image the more I realised each one had something to teach me and so I thought I’d see what lessons seeing myself as a stone, rock or mountain might open up to me. “The stone is a mountain that stays on the move At the mercy of weather and wind Facing no…
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THE STONE, THE ROCK AND THE MOUNTAIN
There’s a stone in the road just turning and tumbling A rock in the river fighting the flow And on the horizon there sits a mountain Ignoring the passage of time The stone is a mountain that stays on the move At the mercy of weather and wind Facing no set direction it goes with the flow Every turn is where it will begin The rock makes a stand Is resistant to change But is willing to be weathered and worn And the mountain so high With its head in the sky Is detached from the waters below The stone or the rock or the out of time mountain The question is which one are you Tumbling or fighting or just plain ignoring The tides of life passing through Just as I woke this morning, in that…
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OPERATION LUGHNASADH
Lughnasadh is the name given to the Irish harvest festival and in fact is the Irish word for August. Many years ago The Ban Chéile* and I decided to rename the cottage in the country Lughnasadh (pronounced loo-na-sa) for a number of reasons – 1) We didn’t like the name it came with “St. Jude’s”, 2) It was a major fixer upper and at times it seemed like “lunacy” to try (get it?) and 3) we planned to spend our Autumn years there when we retire. The name stuck, but only in our heads. The name on the gate stayed and a lot of work took place over the intervening years, but Lughnasadh remained the name for the final product rather than the current cottage. Operation Lughnasadh got underway for real at the start of last autumn…
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THE LEADER OF THE PACK (SOMETIMES!)
When I was born our family dog (Toby) immediately decided I was his responsibility and much to my parent’s horror anytime he got the chance he would squeeze his way into the carrycot or pram to protect me. When he got the message that getting into the pram with me could seriously affect his living arrangements he settled for tossing slippers and shoes into me. I reckon it was thanks to Toby that I have always felt most at home as part of a pack (preferably populated by animals rather than humans). I grew up and now I intend to grow old as a pack member. Over the years I’ve shared my life and my living space with a huge cast of animal pack mates and we always had a healthy respect for our individual positions…
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CHRISTMAS (CHALLENGE #5)
Christmas is all about tradition, but not really. I think Christmas as a concept may be traditional in itself but what Christmas means to people can be very different depending on the individual and will inevitably evolve as time goes by. There are elements that remain constant; the exchange of gifts, the religious aspect, the decorations and of course the increased awareness of the bond between family and friends. In my experience all of these change with time and even though on the surface these elements remain in one form or another, often the meaning of them alters to take account of the circumstances and the journey we’ve taken along life’s road. Now that I’m a Golden Boy (don’t get too excited I just meant I’m in my fifties) my take on Christmas presents has changed considerably. Mainly…
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THE SONG REMEMBERS WHEN (CHALLENGE #3)
My mother died on October 14th, 1997, two days after the singer John Denver (although we all thought he died on the 13th because 5.28pm in Monterey was 1.28 am the next day in Ireland). When I heard of Denver’s death I was distracted with concern for my friend who was a huge fan all his life and introduced me to the country singers serious back catalogue (I would later name my dog ‘Denver‘ in remembrance of the late singer). It was while I was caught up in worry for my friend that my mother finally passed away after a long illness. The weird juxtaposition between both of these deaths would have led me to latch onto a song that was rolling around in my head over those few days and I suppose it would have made sense to select that…
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DINNER WITH MY HERO (CHALLENGE #2)
It will come as no shock to anyone who knows me that my hero is HH The 14th Dalai Lama. My respect and even fondness for him doesn’t stem from idol worship of a reincarnated Buddha, but for a man who has endured serious hardship and still manages to promote compassion and mindfulness; while maintaining a curiosity as sharp as an infant’s and a sense of humour that is wildly contagious. He is a Nobel Peace Prize winner and has been commended far and wide as an environmentalist (before being Green meant anything more than changing colour or having a jealous streak). Thanks to a surprise gift from my Ban Chéile I had the great pleasure of sitting in the audience when the Dalai Lama visited Ireland in 2011 (see the pic above). All of the characteristics of…
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GETTING AROUND TO PROCRASTINATION
Now there’s procrastination and then there’s my brand of procrastination. Here’s what I mean: my Dad died almost two years ago and shortly after the funeral my two siblings and I spent a brief and miserable evening sorting out his ‘things’. He was monklike in his approach to possessions and so there was very little to distribute and dispose of really (a seriously large and diverse collection of rosary beads being the exception). After carefully selecting some ‘keepsakes’ to be distributed to his grandchildren (a decision made by parents whether said grandchildren want the keepsakes or not), most of what he carefully gathered and guarded over his 91 years on planet Earth was, not to put too fine a point on it, rubbish. So where’s the procrastionation in that? I hear you ask, although I didn’t mean…
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ESCAPE TO THE COUNTRY
We are very lucky to be working in education and therefore able to take quite a few weeks off during the summer months. All of our annual leave is greedily stored up and we divide our holiday (vacation) time between a trip abroad for a few weeks and a few weeks in our little country hideaway. This combination is perfect for us because we get to chase the sun to help us de-stress and wind down, and then I chill out in the country cottage while the Ban Chéile, completes a continuous pilgrimage catching up with family and friends. Today is the final day of a little over two weeks in Cork and amidst the packing and the squeezing in the final visits for this summer, the mixed emotions of seeing another summer wind down and the…
