acceptance

Wounded and Sickly Ego in the Safe Cave

| Mairead

1011a

(All the pictures are from Mount Usher Gardens in Ashford, Co. Wicklow)

I took a week off blogging and I have great excuses, but It’s the excuse that stops me going back to blogging that I want (well, really don’t want) to write about now. So… in general I share on this blog the stuff that’s difficult for me. Normally, the sharing makes me uncomfortable up to a value of 7-ish (that’s out of 10, 10 being death by shame – of my ego.) But this post pushes the discomfort way up to a 9 or 9.5, so I’m feeling (or my ego is feeling) very sick. Like, vomit-inducing sick, so maybe you need to stand back….

1011b

(Path with gate… open the gate)

I had a heart-to-heart conversation last week with someone who shall remain nameless and reads every post I publish. She told me I wrote some nice things but I wasn’t practicing what I preached. First blow to my ego armour. Although wounded (ego, not really) I did realise she meant this as a compliment. Unfortunately, I was too caught up in the shame I didn’t ask which particular nice thing was I not practicing. Instead, I buckled under said shame. The shame of being thought of as someone who preaches, someone who thinks they’re better than others and someone who is being dishonest. Second, third and fourth blow. At that stage I though I might be mortally wounded, so a good time to protect my shame.

1011c

(Path with steps… get ready)

Right so, I figured the best way to protect my shame was to hide. Yep, that feels good. And I have a brilliant hiding idea – I’ll stop the writing. Grand, I can do that. Well, I’d have to because it was beginning to dawn on me that there was probably more than one nice thing I was preaching about and not practicing. Since (I think) I am writing about all the things I find difficult, it’s probably accurate to say that I’m not too good at practicing them. Ok, I’ll stop the writing.

1011e

(Grassy path… soft landing)

So to summarise, I’m talking then, I’m wounded, then mortally wounded, then I go off to hide, I sit in my little cave, safe and sound and everyone lives happily ever after. Not really. There’s a leeetle problem….. sitting in my safe cave I come to realise that the writing (this now potentially dangerous – to ego – activity) is one of my precious things… the things that are really precious to me, the things I really need to share. Oops.

1011f

(Winding path with no end in sight… trust)

I can’t stop the writing… and really, I don’t want to. Instead, I’ll have to come out of my safe cave. I’ll have to find a way to realise that the wounds aren’t real and they aren’t serving me. I’ll have to go out on the ledge, again… on my own.

Just to be clear:

I am telling you how things are for me.

I am not saying I can do this.

I am not saying you should do this.

I am not promising I won’t go back to hiding.

I am saying that practicing this might be too hard for me.

I am saying I’m going to take the first step and only then consider taking another step.

And lastly, I like heart-to-heart talks (even if my ego doesn’t) so the me (when she’s not protecting her ego) thanks the someone who shall remain nameless for giving me this insight. Really, thank you.

I’m not saying I’ll like the next heart to heart though, Mairead.

Quiet – the book…

| Mairead

2910c

(Solitude)

I’m reading a really interesting book at the moment. It’s called Quiet by Susan Cain. There’s also a TED talk. She writes about extroverts and introverts and thinks the extrovert personality type has an unfair advantage. The extrovert is seen as the ideal type, which can mean those of us who favour the introvert way of being can seem odd. Cain suggests the world needs introverts to be introverts. Although the words introvert and extrovert are not new to me, it is new to hear that it’s perfectly acceptable, in fact necessary (for an introvert) to be an introvert. No one told me.

2910b

(Old weather-beaten wall)

Cain explains that extroverts are energised when they’re with large groups of people – they love parties, they dislike solitude. Wait a minute… they love parties? And they refuel their energy when surrounded by lots of people. I didn’t know that was even a possibility. While introverts prefer solitude and get energised in nature or alone and they like to chat with one person at a time. Turns out the introverts often push themselves to be more extrovert so that they can fit in or get things done….. like give dinner parties or talk to a committee or whatever. But it is a very tiring activity for introverts to behave in an extroverted way and they need to refuel with space and solitude.

2910a

(Old wood)

I used to be very shy as a child and I remember when I went to college at seventeen making a decision, from that day forward I would be outgoing. It was easy, no one knew me from my previous school and I was good at pretending. So I watched outgoing people and copied them. I enjoyed it and since there were only four girls in a class of eighty I got a lot of attention! I was rewarded well for my efforts, but it was very tiring. I often used to wonder why I didn’t like parties, I thought there was something wrong with me.

2910e

(Old hearts)

It’s okay to love solitude. Mairead.

Potato Soup Time

| Mairead

2410a

(The stained recipe page)

I’m making soup. I love making soup. I love how it tastes, how it smells and I even like looking at it. It’s potato soup (it’s always potato soup) well, there’s also thyme in it but the main ingredient is potato. I’ve been making it for about fifteen years. Well, no, I mean, I’ve been repeating the soup making procedure for the past fifteen years, not, it’s taking fifteen years to make some soup. But… also, I mean it’s taken fifteen years to make this soup.

2410c

(One of my second-hand French tea towels –  beautiful shadows! Into the soup too!)

When my little boy was in primary school sometimes I would make the potato soup early, just before driving down to collect him. When he got into the car he would know that I had made it. How? He’d smell it on my clothes!! Now I know this might not please everyone but I loved it. You see, he loved the soup and he was happy when I smelled of soup because he’d soon be having soup! And I loved that I could do something so simple and have that impact.

2410d

(Snow from 2010 – into the soup too! It started snowing in my sister’s town in Canada today – oops)

So that and everything else I’ve experienced in those fifteen years goes into the soup I’m making today. Even though I use the same (stained) recipe book (I can never keep a recipe in my head…) and stick to the same basic recipe, the soup is filled with much more than the list of ingredients. It’s filled with the stories, the lessons, the happy days, the sad days, the angry days, the embarrassing days that I’ve experienced, because all those things are part of me now and they’re here as I make the soup. They’re in my arms as I dice the onions. They’re in my hand, full of thyme –  bigger and nicer because now I grow it. There in my choice of real butter, for a time it was olive oil, before that it was coconut oil. They’re in my back as I wonder about the weight of the saucepan, because a few years ago I longed to feel what my grandmother must have felt using a giant saucepan on a solid fuel cooker to make soup for her six children.

2410e

(Love, love, love stitches, especially if they’re HUGE – into the soup too!)

The soup we’re going to have today for dinner owes its magnificence to the complete picture of the person who makes it, warts and all. Mairead.

I’m bursting to share this thing…..

| Mairead

2010a

(Lavender)

AAAAAh I was taking to someone over the weekend and they asked me what I was up to and I mentioned my Kickstart you Creativity course was starting in November. And as I mumbled and stuttered through some kind of an explanation I realised I couldn’t talk about it. I can’t talk about this thing I’m bursting to share…. It. Is. So. Frustrating. And of course my fallback for a solution to my inability to talk is to beat myself up. Today, I’m going to do something different for a few minutes, here….

2010b

(Love in the Mist)

Because I know most of you don’t live anywhere near the town on the east coast of Ireland and the west edge of Europe where I am going to run my course it makes it easier for me to tell you. I’ll write to you about my tiny little dream that I’m too afraid to speak about out loud… and I can hide behind my writing. This post is just for me (note to self: is it time to admit that this whole blog is just for you?) I don’t know what I’m going to write. Maybe by the end I’ll have a moment of acceptance or a moment of clarity or just a big meltdown. I do know I will stop at the bottom, post it and tomorrow I will write about something else.

2010c

(Mushrooms… bursting through the soil)

But today it’s about this: I’m bursting to share a thing that brings me peace and calm! But it’s too, too, too precious for me to bring it out into the light. It might get attacked by marauding bands of baddies….. Ok that sounds crazy. I know. I know it sounds crazy, but… Remember when you were little and you got this great present from your favourite uncle/aunt/mother’s best friend/rich shopkeeper? It was so great! And you wanted to show your friends, didn’t you? And you ran out to the green/road/school and you said in your little girl/boy voice “Look at this great thing Uncle John gave me!” And that moment when you stopped speaking was the happiest you were for the rest of the day because kids can be cruel and they didn’t share your enthusiasm or even your interest in your great thing or your wonderful Uncle John.

2010d

(Beauty underneath)

So you learned a clear lesson – keep the best stuff to yourself. Keep the stuff that means the most to you to yourself, hidden from the light in a safe place. Even if it means you can’t use it. Like the tiny china tea set that I got one year out of the blue from a friend of my Dad’s. It was fun sharing it with my dolls but it would have been so much more fun sharing it with my brother and my friends… but I couldn’t trust my best stuff, the things closest to my heart, with them so we all lost out. When I couldn’t share my china tea set no one got to experience how great it was – not even me. I was afraid it was going to break or my heart was going to break because they wouldn’t think it was as amazing as I did!

Aaaaaah and here I am again!

2010e

(Fence in Altamont)

When this thing began it was a tiny dream and a minuscule little thought. I wanted to uncover a process that would allow me to share what I found – peace, calm, and the fun of creation – with others. It grew when I was in France, when I went out to the garden each day and I felt myself connecting to peace as I began the process. And it worked. I started to think I could really do this. I could definitely share this process and maybe it could help other people connect to peace.

2010g

(Moss growing quietly on a rock)

Then I began to have doubts… Would it actually work? Is there a path through creativity to peace and calm in a human’s life? A sometimes difficult, challenging, even awful life? If there is would my little process find it for others? Who would want this, maybe I’m the only one who wants to connect to peace and calm? Now that I think of it, maybe getting basic physical needs met is more important. Needs like food, warmth, health, money….

2010i

(Hydrangea)

But the doubts (even if they are valid) are just a smokescreen… they are hiding my fear and my sadness. And I can’t blame the children who taught me the lesson. I can’t blame their parents. I have no one left to blame but myself… and that isn’t working too good…. so I’m going back to my precious things. The precious things, the china tea set or my course are so connected that I may be able to free one with the help of the other.

2010h

(Butterfly and Lavender)

I don’t need encouragement, I have lots of encouragement, I have to step out on this ledge on my own….

I don’t need anyone to tell me you big eejit just do it! I am telling myself that all the time…. and it isn’t working.

I don’t need anyone to tell me it’s easy…

I don’t need anyone to point out that I have been encouraging others to follow their dream and I can’t even do it myself… I know.

I don’t need encouragement not to do it…… I am bursting out of my skin to do this… and I am scared shirtless.

And that reminds me, I read a quote this morning: Fearlessly accept the reality; then fearlessly set about transforming what needs to change. — Elena Brower.

So while I’m revving up my fearlessness, maybe you could share your precious thing? Mairead.

Heavy Rain brings Cheerful Scones

| Mairead

1610a

(22 raindrops (or thereabouts) in a row… )

It was a very dark morning full of heavy rain when I woke up. So I lay there listening to the sound of water hitting the window, the roof and the cat. It was surprisingly pleasant (well not the cat bit but he stopped being unpleasant when I let him in.) My memory might be faulty but I think we haven’t had very many heavy rain storms this year. I was enjoyed this one.

1610b

(This flowering shrub has been cheering me all through the summer, looks like it’s happy continuing into the autumn)

It got me thinking about all the things I connect with heavy rain (I mean the nice things I connect with heavy rain.) Being in bed, nice and warm. Staying home, warm and dry. Darkness in the daytime reminding me of the tunnel of trees. Scones and butter. Raindrop sounds. Comfortable shoes. Scones. It was the scones that finally got me out of bed but I completely forgot about them.

1610c

(Pretty edges on the leaves)

By lunchtime it was still dark and raining and I was starting to feel tired and I don’t mind telling you, a bit grumpy. I was talking to myself in a less than kind or helpful way. Like I thought that would encourage me… I worked on my art journal and even began the process of painting one of my tea towels (it takes a few days.) But yet I continued to feel a bit heavy and very slow and not very accepting of this state.

1610g

(More raindrops)

Then I remembered the scones and I was all excited again. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of eating the last egg in the fridge at the time… Still… it is possible to make scones without eggs, which reminds me of the other nice thing about heavy rain – hens.

Heavy rain produces worms and sometimes scones, Mairead.