all is well

We’re going to the Zoo, Zoo, Zoo

| Mairead

Berlin Zoo today. Up early was the plan. Plan failed. After a breakfast of orange juice, coffee, custard Danish and currywurst (the boys only) we set off. By midday we had arrived. It’s a very old Zoo in the heart of the city, the trees and plants are as interesting as the animals. We saw the elephants first, followed closely by the giraffes and then the monkeys.

My favourite animal was a female gorilla who was born in 1957. Well I think that’s what it said on the sign…. it was in German. If you’re a regular reader you’ll remember my language ability leaves a lot to be desired. But German is different…. it’s easier to guess…. Anyway, she sat watching all the people watching her, in the manner of an old man sitting on the street corner watching the world go by.

(Two young Orang-Utans didn’t let a cage and a glass partition keep them apart. Right after this picture was taken the Mum of the one on the left swung over, picked up her baby and swung upside-down from the ceiling of the cage all the way to the other side of the huge space.)

Then we came to the nocturnal animals. They were underground, in a long winding corridor with glass fronted rooms on each side containing the animals. The lighting was very dim and the walls were painted black. When I walked in first I couldn’t see anything. I could only take very small steps, holding the wall and feeling uncomfortable. These animals normally only come out at night, but the zoo is closed at night, so…. day is turned into night down here in order that we get to see them. After a few minutes my eyes had stepped up to the challenge and it seemed like the lights had been turned up.

(Nice cobbles in Berlin Zoo)

When you really want something you may have to turn your world upside down and get a bit uncomfortable but soon everything will seem brighter!

Auf Wiedersehen, Mairead

Lazy and Selfish

| Mairead

(Kate and Liam’s unusual sunflowers)

For the first time in my life I went to a cafe with my laptop. It was last Saturday. I had a green tea and an egg sandwich (yes…) first. Then I wrote for thirty minutes, without even noticing the time pass. Now I’m imagining myself going to a cafe to write every day as being normal, and I feel quite excited. In fact I’m starting to talk to myself (I admit it, I talk to myself…). How great would it be to have a portion of every day assigned to sitting writing in a cafe? and I answer myself…. That would be really great!

So what’s stopping me? The thing that’s stopped me before were all those other voices in my head (yes, I also hear voices….) saying “what a waste of time”, or “you have nothing to write”, or “how incredibly lazy and selfish of you”.

(Wood for the fire)

Then I noticed a funny thing happening in the Success Teams…… I’ve been watching these people! They turn up each week, they share with the team what they want and then they go for it. In the beginning it was difficult for them to fit new things into their busy lives. But to get what they want, some stuff needs to be done….. So they started giving priority to the things that are part of their dream wishes. They began doing these things first (even if they might be considered unimportant or selfish) and letting the rest follow. And the funny thing? When they do that, everything (everything!) else is easier! And the important stuff gets done, too.

(Charlotte, Aidan and Rory’s new cat)

As I’m all for easier I’ll be adding cafe mornings to my weekly schedule from now on. If you see me, remind yourself you too can make your wishes a priority, but don’t talk to me!

Do not disturb, Mairead.

Perfect as you are…..

| Mairead

(The leaves and wine red shoots)

Ok I seem to be drawn to the perfect as you are theme again today, so bear with me…..

We have a plant in a tub in the back garden. Every year in June it sends up shoots and green leaves unfold from these shoots. The shoots are deep wine red and after a few weeks yellow flowers begin to open out from the tips. A few more weeks pass and the flowers die, the the leaves go brown, and eventually the shoots go brown and dry and break off easily. Then there’s nothing left to see in the tub. At this point I usually move it out of the way and forget about it.

(The tip of the shoot about to flower)

This year I haven’t been out in the garden much so it surprised me when I noticed the cycle had begun and the shoots were up and already producing leaves. So I moved the tub back to a place where I could see it unfold beautifully. And it is…. unfolding… beautifully.

(The yellow flowers)

So I was thinking….. is the plant perfect when it’s flowering? Or is it perfect when the shoots are shooting? Or is it perfect just before the flowers unfold? Or is it perfect when it’s dormant and out of the way? And the only answer that comes to me is…. it’s always perfect.

(The shoot with friend)

So….. could it also be true that no matter what stage in the cycle of our lives we are in, (on top of the world, down in the dumps, flowing along, crying our eyes out, laughing our heads off, making loads of money, spending too much, eating too much, having too little, doing too much, doing too little…….) that we are always perfect too?

How would you be if you knew you were perfect? Would you be unfolding as beautifully as the plant in our back garden? Probably!

You are perfect. Now, allow yourself to unfold… beautifully, Mairead.

PS anyone know what the plant is called?

Poor Fred

| Mairead

(Pink geraniums in an old seed box)

We’re all feeling the love for our cat, Fred, at the moment. He’s not well. We brought him to the vet. He has viral gingivitis, which means his mouth hurts…. a lot. When we got home we looked it up on google. He has lots of the symptoms – not eating, irritable, reclusive, drooling, not much fun really…. The vet gave him antibiotics and he’s sleeping peacefully in the armchair as I write.

(Purple flowers)

Our pets have a knack of bringing out the best in us. They are unconditional with their attention and so allow us to trust them. We trust that it’s unlikely they will look for someone prettier, happier, richer than us. They like us just the way we are, and they like our furniture too! So we open up and we love them back.

(Sun flower)

So if they like us just the way we are and they’re bringing out the best in us……. maybe that’s enough? Maybe it’s enough to know we are loveable, just the way we are.

We’ve been pet approved, Mairead.

Dublin Rocks

| Mairead

(Pasta (not shown) and salad for dinner)

We went to Dublin today. We have very nice visitors staying with us for a few days. They are so nice that while I’m writing this they are cooking our dinner. Today with them I got to see Dublin from the tourist point of view. As it happens one of the things I wanted to do when I came back from holidays was to go to Dublin and experience it like a tourist. But I put it off….

(Taking pictures in the chemist)

This is what I learned today…..

(Marble (a metamorphic rock) as seen in glass case at Natural History Museum)

It is possible to buy vintage dresses for €10 in a pub off Grafton Street. The slices of carrot cake they sell in Fred Hanna’s book shop are huge. Fred Hanna’s book shop doesn’t sell books, it’s a cafe. The enormous gold ball outside the modern library in Trinity College rotates when you push it.

(Books for sale in the chemist)

You can buy second hand books in the chemist where Leopold Bloom bought lemon soap. You can watch a movie in the National Art Gallery and after watching you will have a greater appreciation for Caravaggio’s The Taking of Christ. Metamorphic rock is any rock that undergoes transformation due to extreme pressure and heat.

(Natural History Museum Dublin)

And it was the rocks that got me thinking…  extreme pressure can sometimes produce a thing of beauty.

Rocks have feelings too, Mairead.

Awful Arabella

| Mairead

(Maybe it’s time to cut the grass)

Ok, assignment well on the way to being finished… so I’ll take a break to tell you a story. When our children were little I used to love reading to them. I think it was mainly because it involved sitting down! But also, the rhythm of a voice reading (even your own!) is hypnotic and I was probably glad of the effect it had on all of us.

(Nice looking hydrangeas)

One of my favourite books was Awful Arabella by Bill Gillham, illustrated by Margaret Chamberlain (looked this up on Amazon and it brought it all back). I read that book hundred’s of times, no exaggeration. It was very short with two lines and a picture per page, and I still love it. So the story goes, Arabella arrived to stay at the narrator’s home and she was awful. She mis-behaved all day and wouldn’t go to bed and then in the middle of the night she was sick – throwing up type sick. The next day she was much better behaved but in her efforts to be a good girl she made just as big a mess. In spite of all that, when she was leaving the whole family were very sad to see her go.

(Love blue)

The last picture in the book sees Arabella on her own waving from the front gate with a big suitcase in her hand and the family at the front door crying into their handkerchiefs.

(Yellow flowers that come back every year without any effort from me – and they’re not weeds)

Now that I think about it maybe I liked it because of it’s message. I must have been reading it for myself, because it’s a great message for any parent.

No matter how badly you’ve behaved you’re still loveable and forgivable and we’ll miss you when you’re gone!

Missing you already, Mairead.

Stuff Happens

| Mairead

(Dogs create stuff)

I have a deadline on Friday to finish an assignment. But I finished it today!  Yippee! Then I read the instructions…… it was the first time I’d read them. They would have been very useful, because they were very clear and detailed about how the assignment should be written. They bore little resemblance to how I had actually written the assignment… aaahhh!.

(Nice stuff)

So I’ve taken a little break, written a colourful synopsis of how that makes me feel, including expletives and gone to the supermarket to get chocolate biscuits. Tomorrow I will re-read the instructions and begin again.

(Birds produce stuff too)

Sometimes stuff happens. It’s not the stuff that’s important, it’s how we deal with it. I’m not exactly recommending expletives and chocolate, but they do help me.

Dealing with my stuff, Mairead.

Don’t sweat the meatballs!

| Mairead

(Damien and Nat are organising a Flamenco Festival in Dublin 23rd to 31st July www.dublinflamencofestival.com)

The de-clutter is continuing slowly, and today (Sunday) we went to Ikea. Not entirely sensible, because we might have been tempted to buy more clutter. Fortunately we were not tempted… and we came home with only what we went for… drinking glasses. But we were tempted by the restaurant.

(An Ikea glass?)

Well, Denis was tempted by the fifteen meatballs. Yes, exactly fifteen, there’s a choice, you can have ten, fifteen or twenty. He choose fifteen along with potatoes, gravy and some fruit sauce… Watching the woman speedily scoop the meatballs onto his plate, I couldn’t believe she had time to count them. She didn’t. When we sat down and he went off to get a knife and fork, I counted. Only fourteen…. Oh no, we would have to do something… what? Ask for an extra meatball? Would they need to check the cctv footage to make sure we hadn’t eaten it? As I contemplated our position Denis returned. I told him about the problem. He took out his fork to investigate further.

(Blue benches along the pier in Dun Laoghaire)

And he found the missing meatball… along with its friend. He had been given sixteen meatballs! Noooo, now we had a different problem. How would we return the extra meatball? And which one was it anyway? I seemed to be handling this problem on my own and expected some help from Denis. But he hadn’t let me down, he had formulated an inspired plan and had even executed it, while I was panicking.

He ate the extra meatball!

(Orange worms spotted near the pier….)

And it made me wonder…. is it possible that we sometimes make a mountain out of a meatball? Maybe it’s just a meatball? What if all our problems were just meatballs?

It’s just a meatball, Mairead.

The front of the Westport train goes to Galway

| Mairead

(Comfy throws at my Somatics class)

I was travelling on the 7.30am train from Dublin to Westport, last year. I had brought my crochet needle and wool, a magazine, bottle of filtered water, snacks, a pen and some paper. It’s a three and a half hour journey, I wanted to be prepared! Something you may not know about that Dublin to Westport train is that it goes to Galway too. Well, only the front bit of the train goes to Galway. It’s an efficiency thing, I think. The whole train goes as far as Athlone and then the front bit is unhooked and it goes onto Galway while the back bit goes to Westport. A bit worrisome the first time I travelled on it,  but once I realised which bit of the train I needed to be sitting in, it was fine.

(Rua the horse)

Anyway, this time I had spread my things out on the table and was settling into my crochet when the ticket collector came to check my ticket. He also checked the ticket of a male passenger (there was only two of us in the carriage) in a seat on the other side of the aisle from me. It seemed the man was going to Galway, but here he was sitting in the back bit of the train. The bit that was going to Westport! (Are you’re feeling my anxiety here?) Anyway, the ticket man explained that he needed to go to the front of the train and the man nodded. But… he didn’t move……

(Sally the angel and her stars)

The ticket man left to check the passenger’s tickets in the next carriage. I was doing my best to concentrate on my crochet and remain calm (why was I so worried?) when the man for Galway gets my attention by showing me his ticket and pointing to a station we are flying past.

I realise something….. he can’t talk.

I read his ticket, it said Galway (which I knew). I can talk so I assumed I could communicate. But I couldn’t. Not that I didn’t try. I did try…. (remember the problem with trying….?)

(Thierry’s cook books)

First, I spoke very clearly and concisely, saying, “No, you must move to the front of the train for Galway.” He nodded, and smiled, a lot, but he still didn’t move. So I had another idea, I wrote the same message on my notebook and handed it to him. He smiled and nodded again but still didn’t move. I began using hand gestures towards the front of the train. He had a lovely smile…. but he still didn’t move. My message was not being understood. I was starting to feel anxious again. There was still another hour until we arrived in Athlone, there was still time for him to get to the right part of the train. I had to come up with a plan. So I did. I decided I would take him by the arm and guide him to the front of the train just before we arrived in Athlone.

(Poker food….)

But I had a problem…. I had been up since 5am to get this train and I was now starting to feel drowsy. Usually I just doze off at some point but now I couldn’t possibly close my eyes in case I was asleep when we got to Athlone! While I’m contemplating this I look over and the man has fallen asleep! Now we are close to Athlone, I am a nervous wreck and I’ve ripped the crochet five times.

And then the ticket man returns.

(Poker chips)

He patiently wakes the man and tells him it’s time to move to the front of the train and communicates this somehow because the man gets up and follows him…. but not before giving me a big smile, a lovely smile.

And I thought….. there was nothing for me to worry about. I didn’t need to fix anything. All is well. It always was….

All is well, Mairead.