Who let the hens out?

July 9, 2012July 9, 2012 | Mairead

(The girls)

I woke late this morning because I’d had a very disgruntled feline visitor during the night who needed to get outside urgently (at least that’s what I think he was saying) at 3.45am. It may take me a few more days to understand the routine. I’m out of sync with the hens too, I forgot that they won’t lay eggs unless I leave them in their pen until noon but I let them out at seven yesterday morning. When I arrived here on Monday there was a lovely warm brown egg waiting for me. I know I could have bought eggs in Tesco when I was gathering supplies but the thought that I could be eating my own (well.. not exactly my own..) produce was enough to stop me. Now I want to make pancakes so I’m going to need another egg. I have a feeling that the hens like getting out early so I’ll have to be strong and think of pancakes.

(Are these edible?)

When I did wake this morning the sun was shining – yea! I was beginning to think there would be non-stop rain for my entire visit. Last night I was cold enough to light the stove and grey enough to watch the TV. I’m glad to report that I have not been sucked back to TV-land (was there always so many ads?) in fact I think I might be frightened away from it altogether. Between the (bad) nine o clock news and half a scary story about a con man in America I was feeling very nervous climbing the stairs to bed.

(Is there a con man around that corner?)

Fortunately, I’ve been reading Stop Thinking and Start Living by Richard Carlson so I went to bed and slept. Actually that book is very interesting, it talks about how we are constantly thinking and we don’t even realise it. It’s like we’re listening to a radio station in our head. Unfortunately it’s a station full of bad news and cutting remarks… about me (or you – if it’s in your head!) It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t continue the thought and add to it, with more bad news or meanness towards ourselves. The solution? Notice the thought and let it go. For example, last night I might have had the thought, it’s very scary being here alone when there are so many con men around. So as soon as I realise I’m thinking this I pause and choose to think of something else, something useful to be thinking while I’m alone. Like, I’ll read my nice book about a woman reading her dead friend’s journal! (It’s called The Unfinished Work of Elizabeth D by Nichole Bernier and I’m really enjoying it.) Thinking is very useful but not when it scares and saddens us.

Think something nice about yourself, Mairead.

Walking in baby steps.

July 5, 2012July 5, 2012 | Mairead

(Which path?)

I’m navigating my surroundings today by walking. There are lots of pathways through the forest and I’ve been walking along them. Sometimes I come to a side junction and although it’s tempting to take it I’ve been sticking to the main paths. It seems I need to get the basic pattern of the forest into my system before I branch out. The other thing I’ve been doing is looking down. The path surface is quite rutted and uneven so I’ve been taking care not to miss my footing. I’ve been taking baby steps.

(Grassy path)

That got me thinking….. about creating new behaviours – like taking up healthy eating or even healthy thinking or getting more exercise. When I start something new, I always expect to get it right first time or else I’m really annoyed with myself. I always expect to be as proficient at doing the new thing as I am about thinking about doing it. It might be more useful to take baby steps.

(Uneven path)

So, for example, a possible new behaviour like get more exercise. Before I start I would have to get specific. So, what is the desired new behaviour? I want to walk. How much do you want to walk? Well, I’ve heard that twenty-minute walks are a good start so I want to walk twenty minutes, twice a day. Okay then I begin. The first day always goes well, I’m highly motivated. By day three I’m increasing the time to forty minutes and possibly the frequency to twice as often…. By day twelve I have a list of excuses why I’m not good at exercise and I haven’t been out in days. This is the time for the baby steps.

(Path ahead?)

Baby steps are kind and gentle. When the baby toddler stumbles while teetering from chair to chair and falls flat on his face, do you say, You big slob! You’ve been doing this toddler thing for days and you’re still falling! No, but you say it to yourself. You big slob, you haven’t been out for a walk for days, you’ll never get healthy! Baby steps are different. Baby steps say, Ah sweetie, did you find it hard to keep up the walking? Up you get now, go out the door and start again. Baby steps encourage you to do what you can when you can, no more no less and without the mean attitude!

Be nice to yourself, Mairead.

Report from the Wilderness.

July 4, 2012July 4, 2012 | Mairead

(River on one side)

I’m out in the wilderness for a while….. and I don’t mean metaphorically. I’m living in the middle of the forest with a lake on one side of the road and a river on the other. There are hens in the garden, cats in the house and goldfish in the bowl. Although I haven’t seen them yet there are also deer over the fence.

(Beautiful flora, foxglove I think)

I arrived about an hour ago and unpacked my life. It’s been interesting to see what my life consists of….. computer, phone, food, clothes, stuff to wash and soften (!) my skin and hair, books (even though there are hundreds of books here) and crafting materials. Apart from feeding myself and the animals I am free to follow my heart’s desire.

(Lake on the other)

When I choose to come here I did wonder to what purpose I would use this wonderful opportunity. Would I write a book? (Probably a bit optimistic it will only be two weeks!) Would I learn to paint? Would I go for long walks? Would I learn some new vegetarian recipes? Would I read a full book in one sitting? Would I go back to watching TV? Would I sleep? A lot? What would I love to do while I’m here?

(A path running through the middle)

Turns out I probably don’t have to answer those questions in advance (although I do have to bring the ingredients to do any of them.) I can just allow my choice to unfold… a little at a time. At this time my heart’s desire is to write.

What’s your heart’s desire, at this moment? Mairead.

PS Both my mother and mother-in-law’s heart’s desire is more words in the blog (well I think that’s what they meant, “..the pictures are alright but…”) Ask and you may well receive….

Be careful with the lettuce….

June 15, 2012June 15, 2012 | Mairead

Hands 2

(Perfect Hands… Granny and grandchild)

I will be giving a talk in Dublin on Tuesday night and one of the sections is about being unique. I was thinking… we’ve heard it all before…. each person is unique. From our finger prints to our retinas to our heartbeats, we’re all different. We even look different. Of course we know this already, it’s normal, ordinary… and so it’s lost. Uniqueness needs to be connected to our everyday life. When I look in the mirror I don’t think about my particular eyes being the only eyes exactly like them on the planet. I’m more interested in what I’m wearing (do my clothes fit in?) How I look? (do I look normal?) Is my hair brushed? (will people think I’m a homeless bum?) Is there lettuce in my teeth? When I look at my hands I don’t notice the intricate patterns that are mine alone.

Hands 3

(Perfect Hands… Aunt and Niece)

We watched a movie the other night about the guy who created the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover. He realised that fingerprints would be a great way to identify law breakers. Before that it was only possible to identify criminals or potential criminals from their photograph and if they were seen in the act of law breaking. But fingerprints are left behind after the person has gone and fingerprints are unique.

Hands 5

(Perfect Hands… artist)

Why would any of us worry about being as good as or as smart as or as pretty as or as successful as anyone else? Do we ever wonder if our fingerprints are “good” fingerprints. Are they smart fingerprints? Are they pretty? Are they successful as fingerprints? Yes, yes, yes, they are perfect fingerprints and only because they are ours. They would not be perfect glued onto anyone else…. they would be counterfeit. Fraud.

Hands

(Perfect Hands…. another artist)

So, as I look in the mirror this morning I will be brushing my hair and extracting lettuce but mainly I’ll be looking for what makes me different; what makes me unique; what makes me a perfect specimen of me. And it’s not just the stuff on the outside that’s unique, it’s a combination of everything about me. A combination of all the things I love, all the things I like, all the things I hate, the way I relax, the way I cry, the way I get mad, the stories that inspire me. Every little thing about me bundled all together is unique and is a perfect me.

Seriously, is there lettuce in my teeth? Mairead.

Fear and Hand Holding in Swansea…..

June 12, 2012June 12, 2012 | Mairead

(Butterfly enjoying the sun)

The last stop on our Round the United Kingdom, Short Motorbike Tour was Swansea. We went there to attend our daughter’s end of year exhibition. Twelve movies in one evening… don’t worry they were short, about five minutes each. Ciara wrote and directed her movie and she also had an acting role. She played a lesbian. The evening before one of her friends asked her if she was afraid that people would think she was gay. She said she had worried about that for the previous six months…. it was too late now. It was more important to get her message out there, afraid or not, other people’s judgements or not.

(Butterfly enjoying some lavender)

When you want to follow your dream, and live your life with purpose, there are sometimes scary things you’ll need to do. And you’ll wonder if this is a good idea…. this sharing of your dream, your wishes, your message, your contribution to healing the world. What will people think? What will they say? How will they treat you? Will they be different? Will they ever speak to you again? Will they understand? Will their judgement resonate with your own judgement of yourself… and make it impossible for you to continue….. when they think you’re not good enough?

(Mosaic butterfly in garden at Bloom)

I will include a link so you can watch Ciara’s movie, if you choose. If you do watch you may hear her message. You may understand her message. Or you may miss her message. You may think she is brave. You may think she’s foolhardy. You may get stuck in wondering if she’s gay or not. Whatever you get from the watching, one thing I have learned from my judgement of others is that my thoughts and words say more about me than they do about the one I judge. That’s what I got from watching movies on a warm Friday night in Swansea.

What are you saying about yourself? Mairead.

Love Letters, a movie by Ciara Hennessy.

Really, Moira, it was no trouble :)

June 10, 2012June 10, 2012 | Mairead

(View from the dart)

Friday was an odd day. I went to Dublin on the Dart. I didn’t bring an umbrella, probably just as well – gusting winds. I didn’t bring a hat, so hair a bit streely (old Tipperary word meaning… well, not good.) On the return journey something on the train line to Greystones broke and I had to get off at Bray, where there was more rain and windy gusts and also some inspiration…..

(Simple Daisies)

It’s the kind of day you should stay home and sit by a warm fire, but two weeks ago I promised my sister I’d deliver something and I hadn’t done it. Oh, it seemed like such a small thing when she asked and it was, I love going into Dublin. It’s just I never got around to doing it (does this remind anyone of the gardening?) I had even begun to get specific, promising that I would do it on Thursday… but I didn’t. So Friday was the day. The Met. Office had issued weather warnings but I’d have to start lying to my sister if I didn’t go now. I couldn’t do that…. could I? No, of course not.

Heart

(The delivery…. “Head over Heels” Alan Ardiff)

Anyway, I went, and on the way home as an announcement proclaimed the broken thing in Greystones I met a young woman. She had been on her way to Greystones too and heard me talking on the phone to Denis (isn’t he great, he offered to pick me up in Bray?) She asked if I could take her from the train into the station. She was blind and didn’t know this station well enough to navigate it on her own. I was inspired by her trust. Not just her trust in me but the bigger trust… her trust in a benevolent world, her trust that everything would be okay enough to go outside and navigate in the dark. Her trust that she would get to her destination. I was also inspired by her willingness to ask for help.

Trust and ask for help… simple. Mairead.

Horas non numero nisi serenas!

June 8, 2012June 8, 2012 | Mairead

(A bit of the sundial and fountain. Sorry, I chopped off the pretty parts…)

In the end we went to Powerscourt House and Gardens. The house for lunch and coffee, the gardens for flowers and graves. One of the other choices was Wexford and we picked well because they got an awful lot of rain in Wexford on Wednesday. We got the sun… and then some shade because it was too bright and then some breeze because it was a bit hot and then some sun because it got a little chilly. I suppose we got everything we needed except rain (which we didn’t need anyway).

(The Dolphin Pond)

We began our adventure in the gardens and the leaflet told us that this first section, called the Italian Gardens, was designed in the 1840’s by Daniel Robertson and that it took 100 men over twelve years to complete. Well then… seems like all the best gardens take more time than you might think sensible to complete….

(One of the gravestones in the pet’s graveyard)

I looked up Daniel Robertson and I read that he went bankrupt in England and afterwards moved his gardening business to Ireland. The gardens at Killruddery, where we went to the food market, were designed by him also. The latin inscription over the sundial in the Italian Garden, says “Horas non numero nisi serenas“, I do not count the hours unless they are tranquil. Because of his previous difficulties (with the bankruptcy) I thought Daniel’s choice of Latin quote might be significant, maybe an insight into how he coped, but for the life of me I couldn’t make sense of it…. if you were tranquil why would you bother counting the hours at all!

(The Pepperpot Tower – built for the children of the house. It was modelled on a pepper pot from Lord Powerscourt’s dining table.)

Turns out (thanks Google!) that this latin inscription is on a fountain in Venice also and the word count can be replaced with remember…I do not remember the non-peaceful hours. In other words I put my attention on the times that I have been at peace, when all was well, I carry the peace from my past with me. If Daniel hadn’t found a way to carry the peace with him we might have been walking through fields yesterday.

Nice work, Daniel. Mairead.

My garden is in the work phase.

June 6, 2012June 6, 2012 | Mairead

(Not my garden… another view of the Birds and Bees garden at Bloom)

The sun is shining and it was very easy to get out of bed, not least because I’m off on an adventure with Ashleigh and Megan today. I’m not too sure where we’re going (the location has changed three times since Monday:)) but I will bring my camera and if there’s any good shots you’ll see them tomorrow. This reminds me of how excited I was to get out of bed when I was pulling weeds in the garden. Since we got back from holidays I kinda forgot about the gardening. I did have a quick dig on bank holiday Monday but for some reason the excitement has gone out of it and all that remains is the work….

(Not my garden yet… also from Bloom)

I do know that I enjoy digging and pulling and planting and watering. I know that I like the colour that appears within days or weeks of sowing and watering a plant. I know there’s huge satisfaction when an area that was overgrown is cleared. It’s just that in this middle phase there’s no excitement and my garden is in the middle phase. The excitement was in the beginning when the possibilities were huge and the work was small. The excitement was in the impact I was making very quickly and….. could more be possible? The excitement was in the energy I had and the energy I was willing to expand.

(Not my garden either… also from Bloom)

Willing to expand energy is a different thing than expanding energy. One is a promise and the other is work. In the work phase the promise comes to haunt me. A promise I made to myself and to others. A promise I see in the before pictures. A promise that I really want to keep, really. In the work phase it’s only this promise that keeps me going. Not going in a light and happy way but in a heavy guilt and shame-filled way.

(Probably never my garden… that’s a rabbit hutch on the left under the raised bed and it leads to a rabbit hole in the middle of the lawn… very cute… from Bloom)

And then I look at my garden and I see no monster forcing me to keep my promise. I see no signs that I will be punished. The garden will carry on as before whether I do the work or not. The plants already sown will flower. The older ones will even search for water on their own. The weeds will thrive again and all will be well in the garden. It is not the garden that pushes me to fulfil my promise, it is myself. My dream, my hope, my intention to have something I want. Somehow I need to let this sustain me in the work phase, guilt and shame-free.

Working it, Mairead.