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.

Honeymoon in Edinburgh.

May 23, 2012May 23, 2012 | Mairead

(The Scottish Flag)

We arrived in Edinburgh on Saturday afternoon. Twenty five years after we had planned to get there…. I wanted to go to Edinburgh for my honeymoon and Denis was happy to go too! But we never made it. At the time Denis was working on a cutting edge project. (Bear in mind it was 1985, cutting edge then looks boringly ordinary now.) It was also a secret project. Even from me. I had no idea what he did at work except he liked it. I soon found out.

1Edinburgh Castle

(Edinburgh Castle)

Unfortunately our honeymoon clashed with a very important work deadline. I was twenty four at the time and very set in my ways about the world, love came before deadlines and my honeymoon came before everything. Then his boss made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

1Kilt

(They wear knee socks under their kilts)

I was invited to a meeting in his office, where I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement before the secret project was revealed to me. I think he thought if I knew how amazing the project was I would happily give up my honeymoon. I must have been ahead of my time because I thought it was boringly ordinary then. But the boss had daughters and he must have had an inkling that I would need a different kind of motivation. His offer: instead of Edinburgh he would pay for a honeymoon in New York and even throw in a trip to Disney World in Florida, but it would be a month after the wedding and Denis would be in New York for that month.

1Quote

(“Work as if you live in the early days of a better nation.” Alasdair Gray.)

That did it, we went to New York for our honeymoon. So a month after our wedding I was sitting beside the boss’s wife on my way to New York on my honeymoon. Sometimes we think we know exactly what we want and then something even better comes along. Maybe the thing you can’t have now will be yours in twenty-five years time or not at all, but something even more amazing can be yours right now….. the perfect exam results for the magical relationship, the perfect partner for a relationship with yourself, the perfect honeymoon for the thrills of Dumbo.

Take a look at what’s on offer to you right now, Mairead.

We’re off…….

May 18, 2012May 18, 2012 | Mairead

Ready

(Almost ready to go…)

We’re off to Wales via Scotland and we’ve arrived in Belfast and are sitting on the ferry. It’s been almost twelve months since our last motorbike trip and I had forgotten how much I love it! We left Greystones at 8.30am and it was overcast and a little chilly… but the smells were amazing. Fresh air, soil and grass – yummy.

Big Bridge

(Big Bridge near Dundalk)

An hour later I was very cold and I remembered what I love about cars – the heater. Maybe it’s time to get the heated vest thingy. You wear it inside your jacket and plug it into the bike. Your very own heater. For now all is well, hot tea is warming me up and we have a window seat. There’s also free wi-fi so all is very well.

Here we go

(Here we go)

It’s funny what we get used to. Since I was little I’ve thought that travelling by plane to go on holidays was part of the holiday. The excitement of getting there. The nice person that checked our tickets and took our luggage. The walk to the plane, the smiling air hostess and the cute little meals – that were free! It’s still exciting to go on holidays but the new things they’ve added to the plane journey are not helpful. The plastic bag of liquids. The bins full of half empty water bottles and nail clippers. An odd sense that you might actually be a security risk. The waiting. Boots off. Queueing. Boots on. Fitting your bag into a metal cage or maybe not fitting your bag into the metal cage. More waiting. The cute little free meals are gone now and so are the smiles.

Cosy

(Cosy and dry)

The ferry experience today was very different. Although it was raining there were lots of smiles. We were stopped once to look at our tickets, no you don’t need your passports. Then we drove to lane 14 and waited until a smiling man sent us up the ramp behind a bus, to keep you dry! Another smiling man directed us to the bike section. A third smiling man tied the bike to the boat. The whole thing took ten minutes. And two hours later we’re here.

Welcome to Scotland! Mairead.

Birds and Toddlers do it.

March 23, 2012April 16, 2012 | Mairead

(A Robin)

The birds are singing outside the window again as I write and I continue to be amazed at how much their singing affects me. For the better. I’m cheered just listening to them do their thing. They have no idea I’m here enjoying them. They are definitely not doing it for me. In fact I don’t know why they sing. It makes me feel good to imagine that they sing because they enjoy singing.

(More birds)

They remind me of the daughter, when she was a toddler. She used to sing to herself as she played with her toys. The tune was never recognisable and the lyrics were a jumble of words and syllables. One day I told her I would write down the words so she could keep her song forever. She didn’t seem that interested but she let me write every word and syllable.

(Rory, a long, long time ago when he was a toddler)

To the little toddler forever is right now, this moment, because this moment never ends… now is always now. To the adult, now is just a passing blink as we head straight for tomorrow. The singing birds halt everything…… and bring my attention to now, here and now, exactly where I am… now.

Now, where are you? Mairead.

Believe it or not…..

August 31, 2011April 12, 2012 | Mairead

(There were lots of statues of bears like this around Berlin)

Unbelievably, four days later and I’m still at the coffee shop. Remember yesterday, I told you about my belief of being a failure? And the day before about how one situation can have many different ways of looking at it?

(TV tower with rotating restaurant, Alexanderplatz, Berlin)

There I was, finished with college at nineteen and no parchment to frame. Nothing to show for my time in the world of Electronic Engineering. Or had I? Well, with the benefit of hindsight and a different belief it turned out I was on a different course altogether…..

(Nice trees at the Palace)

I was on the “Find a Smart Husband Here” course! I got the (marriage) parchment (never did frame it). He was from Cork, I was from Tipperary, we met in Limerick, in the library. He had really interesting things to say, I was a good listener. There was no formal test. But it’s been more than thirty years now so I think I passed.

I like this story better than the failing one. All that I needed was to know that I had a story and then I could decide to pick one I liked better.

What story do you want to believe? Mairead.

The stories we believe…..

August 29, 2011April 12, 2012 | Mairead

(Beauty in the eye of the beholder)

So… I’m still here at the coffee shop and I’m thinking about the stories we believe about ourselves. When I was a new Mum, with a little baby that cried a lot, I believed I was a bad mother. It was an easy story to believe. Nothing I seemed to do would stop that crying. When I looked around at other mothers they seemed to know what they were doing, their baby wasn’t crying, that’s what makes a good mother……

(Room with a garden)

Unfortunately, when we believe a story, everything we see from then on fits into our story. We make it fit into our story. But the truth is, any situation we find ourselves in can be looked at in numerous ways. For the baby crying we can say…. bad mother, new mother, sick baby, bad food, painful allergy, high temperature, ill-health… which one is true? Who knows? Maybe all, maybe none.

(The east German walk man)

The “bad mother” can’t see the good things she’s doing, she has tied herself to a story. But a story is only something we believe about ourselves and a belief is only an opinion we think is true.

Maybe it’s time to pick up a new story, Mairead.