awareness

Look! It’s the break light!

| Mairead

3

(Graffiti in cafe toilet – I didn’t write it)

I’ve uncovered another of my patterns and this one is big (for me). I’ve been working away for the past month on productivity. I’ve read the book, Getting Things Done by David Allen. I’ve had sessions with my friend Ashleigh. I’ve started using the PomodoroPro. I’ve devised a schedule with thirty minute time slots. My diary was full of next thing to do’s. I had three weeks of amazing productivity.

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(Rowing on the Liffey in Dublin, with the Ha’penny Bridge in the background)

And then I crashed. I’ve been tired and motivation-less since last Thursday. I know this is a pattern… it was pointed out to me that I do this regularly. What do I do? I drive myself forward, paying no attention to the vehicle I am driving. I run out of fuel. The vehicle stops. For the duration of my life the vehicle is my body. I do feed my body and lately I feed it well, but I have not been paying attention. A light on the dashboard was flashing and I ignored it. It was the “break” light. When I pay no attention, I don’t know it’s time to rest. To take a break, a siestas, some free time, do some day dreaming, be at ease.

2

(Scary but true)

There are probably lots of reasons why this is my pattern. As with all patterns, it starts because it’s necessary and it works. There is a clue as to why it continues. It’s part of my normal thinking, something I didn’t realise….. I think taking a break is unfair, unless you work exceedingly hard and I experience extreme shame when I take a break unless I am exhausted. The good news is that it’s like my “I have to eat meat every day” belief – crazy but normal for me. And as we saw with the meat belief once you become aware of your normal thinking it’s possible to let it go.

I’ll be taking baby steps with this one, step, rest, step, sit down, up we get , step, Mairead.

Birds and Toddlers do it.

| Mairead

1

(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.

3

(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.

2

(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.

Coffee shop writing…..

| Mairead

(Coffee Time)

Since I’ve been sitting on the sofa resting for the past four days, I’m a bit stir-crazy. So today Denis dropped me to the door of a coffee shop in Dublin and I can get back to my “coffee-shop writing”. He was going to Maplins, his craft shop, so I’m nearby on Abbey Street at 3fe. Strange name for a coffee shop? It stands for third floor espresso. There’s a story….

(Big lizard outside Berlin aquarium)

This guy, Steve, used to work in banking or the stock market or something and he gave it all up to become a world-class barista. True story… He set up a training room in his  apartment (on third floor) and within a year he had entered the world barrister finals in the US and had come in a respectable fourth. Now he sells coffee in different ways using very geeky gadgets. He and his team also sell very nice sandwiches and very yummy muffins.

But it was the story that got me to have coffee here. Well of course it did, he gave up everything to do the thing he wanted to do? I’m in. Now that I’m here I’m ready to notice what’s different about this coffee shop? And it is different. It’s not squeaky clean, the colours are very bright, the shelves are like granny’s kitchen, not completely square, not exactly fitting and not plastic.

(Close-up of zebra stripes)

So that means it’s not exactly perfect either. Surprise, surprise. If it didn’t have a story I wouldn’t be here. Stories are really attractive to us and they are also really useful. The stories that lulled us to sleep as children. The stories we watched at the cinema or on the TV. The stories we believe about ourselves.

What do you believe about you? Mairead.

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

Little Chick’s Story

| Mairead

(A perfect seed ball)

Once upon a time there was a little chick who went in search of adventure. She travelled to the sea shore and found a beautiful turtle shell. She put it on and wore it everyday for months. Everyone she met said how lovely she looked and little chick was delighted with the attention.

(I’m heading for…)

But deep inside little chick was tired and weary and fed-up. The shell was heavy and it was hard to see where she was going so she often bumped into things. One day she decided to take it off….. but as soon as she did she felt naked and put it right back on again. Then she sat down to cry, “now what’ll I do?”

(At the Natural History Museum, a pearl from Galway)

As she was crying an old hen who was passing came over to little chick and asked “What’s wrong little chick?” Little chick explained that she didn’t want to be in a shell anymore, but when she took it off she felt naked. “Oh that’s not a problem, let’s go down to the lake and sort this out.”

(Happy orange juice)

So the two birds waddled down to the lake, said a quick “Hi!” to the other animals and found a quiet spot. Then the old hen said “Ok, little chick, look into the water, what do you see?” Little chick looked in and said, “A beautiful turtle shell.”

“Great, now take off the turtle shell and look into the water again.”

(Sailboats off Greystones… rocks)

“No, no I can’t look, I’m naked.” squeaked the little chick. But the old hen insisted and when the little chick looked into the water she couldn’t believe her eyes. In the water she could see a beautiful yellow fluffy chick, powerful in her chickness! She twisted and turned to see herself from every angle and smiling she asked old hen, “How can this be, I’m beautiful?”

(I have no idea what these are?)

Old hen said “You’ve been wearing that old turtle shell for so long it felt like home but it wasn’t. It was covering up a beautiful you. Just because you feel naked doesn’t mean you are naked! Now, off you go and live the life of a beautiful, proud, powerful, smiling little chick!”

And little chick did just that.

Happy Bank Holiday Monday (Ireland), 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?

You are Here

| Mairead

(Where are we?)

In the cathedral building on the Rock of Cashel, there’s a map of all the buildings on the site. This map is on a stone plinth in the centre of the cathedral. Somewhere on that map there’s a label that says You Are Here. But of course we  all know that’s not exactly true…….. As a child playing in these buildings I used to walk my fingers around the map as if I was walking around the buildings.  But the real me wasn’t in the map, the real me was in the cathedral.

(Do birds have maps?)

There’s a map in my head too. It’s a map of the world around me. I’ve been drawing this map ever since I was born. It helps me find my way around relationships, around work, around society. It’s very useful. It’s also a bit misleading. Especially if I assume everyone else has the same map as mine in their head. The don’t. It also causes me a few problems if I think it’s real.

(Sometimes circumstances make the map incorrect…)

Like the map in the cathedral, the map in my head is just a picture, a representation of the real world. I’m not really in the map in my head, I’m here.

Get out of your head, you’re here, Mairead.

Yarn and Patterns

| Mairead

(sigh…)

I love making scones. In fact I’m finding it a little difficult to write because my mouth is watering in anticipation. And since I’m not actually making them, just writing about making them there is nothing to anticipate….. Usually when I think about making scones, I go ahead and make them. So my mouth has learned the pattern and is responding. Pavlov did an experiment with dogs and food and salivating, not that I’m comparing myself to a dog… but it is a similar concept.

(One of the Yarn Room people made these crochet flowers)

I love going to craft shops. I went to The Yarn Room in Ashford yesterday. They sell yarn….. and books and fabric paint and needles and weaving looms and thread and buttons and…. And they give classes and they have a Knit Night every Thursday, where people turn up and knit!  Everyone who works there does crafty things, yesterday Stephanie was following a pattern in one of their books to make a crochet waistcoat in a beautiful multicoloured yarn. When I go there I feel good. I don’t have to try to feel good, my whole body has learned the pattern and is happy to oblige.

(sigh…)

I hate, well, really dislike, cheese. The texture is yucky. The smell is awful. A food that is applauded for going mouldy can’t be good. My nose is wrinkling just imagining it. My stomach is churning a bit too. I didn’t have to move my nose it was way ahead of me and my stomach remembers a night in the 80’s when I thought cheese fondu was a good idea…… it wasn’t.

(sigh, sigh…)

I have lots of patterns set up in my mind and my body, that go back even further than the 1980’s. Some of them limit me and some of them lift me. My job is to notice and choose the ones I want.

Who’s for scones and jam? 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.