choices

The eBook is out!

| Mairead

Well it’s finally happened…The eBook is live on Amazon! You might remember I mentioned it last September on this blog post in Creative Calm. So I wrote, edited, got scared, edited some more, went into a small decline, edited some more and finally figured out how to put it up on Amazon. Then there was another round of getting scared, editing, curling up in a dark corner and editing some more. Finally, I told my little sister, Moira, that it was ready. Telling her was kinda accidental, kinda on purpose. You see, she thinks I’m great. It’s best to pick someone like that when you want help breaking out of a fear cycle.

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(The eBook is here!)

My little sister has always thought I was great, ever since she first recognised me pushing her pram, carrying her in my arms or letting her play with my friends. So whenever I tell her about something scary I’m about to do or that I’ve already done she says something like “Get over yourself, that’s a great idea!” (that’s an actual quote, I never said she was easy on me.) And somehow I get over myself and I come out of the small decline or the dark corner and get on with doing my thing. Anyway, I told her and she went off and bought the book and then she started telling and selling and I woke up this morning to her overnight messages (she lives in Canada) about who had been responding to her methods and I realised I had to Get Over Myself. So this is me getting over myself and telling you about my first eBook. Yes, first because there will be more and yes I may be going into a small decline about that in the future but that’ll mean I’m doing my thing and sure isn’t that the point of life?

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(She hates photographs but I had to show you her Get Over Yourself! face)

So, here’s the link for you to click: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-Graiguenamanagh-Mairead-Hennessy-ebook/dp/B014V4EPXS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441479315&sr=8-1

It’s called Finding Graiguenamanagh (yes I know the title should be easy to spell…. next time…) and it’s about ten days we spent in Graiguenamanagh, Co. Kilkenny, a beautifully special place in Ireland. There are pictures and words and it’s very short. When you click on the link (all going well) you’ll be brought to Amazon.co.uk where you can read the first chapter and where you can buy it… if you want. While I’d love you to buy it, I am working on not caring whether you buy it or not because that’s not my thing – writing the next one is my thing! Despite the anguish and dark places I have mostly LOVED this process and I will keep going and keep learning how to allow myself do my thing without fear.

Look Moira! I think I’m getting over myself! Mairead.

This Beautiful Country

| Mairead

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(Adorable little cottage with pretty china cups and tasty maple syrup pancakes)

We’ve arrived in Cashel… Not the Cashel in Tipperary. With the Rock. Where I grew up. The Cashel on the west coast of Ireland, looking out onto the Atlantic Ocean… with lots of rocks… and lots of sea view beauty. But before we left Ballaghaderreen we got to visit the award-winning cafe. It’s called Meet you Here and it was well worth going back. Even though we arrived before opening time the nice lady saw our hopeful faces and unlocked the door. As well as a cafe there was a little gift shop and an art gallery in a tiny gate lodge. It was a bit like being in an adult-size doll’s house. I liked it a lot.

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(Peeling paint on a farm building… I’ve been attracted to all the beautiful old farm barns we pass and finally yesterday I got up close and personal with one – want to make this in mixed media!)

Sitting for lunch in the pub on Monday it was easy to see there is a community here in Ballaghaderreen, the tables were full and everyone seemed to know each other. A lady (of a similar age to myself) came in for a cup of tea and sat by herself at a table. As the GAA conversation at the bar became heated regarding whether a foul was real or faked, she looked up and joined in. She had been sitting on her own, reading a book, I thought she was alone. Instead her membership of this community made her part of every conversation, always included. During our stay in the town I had begun to imagine the Irish small towns of the past. I imagined the now boarded up shops on the main street bustling. I imagined a retiring shop keeper having a chat with his daughter about passing the business onto her. I imagined a new arrival deciding to buy a business and hoping it would succeed.

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(View from the bike on the road inland from Leenane towards Cashel)

As we left Ballaghaderreen it had started to rain again and maybe it was the lack of brightness that made me notice the housing estate with windows and doors boarded up, one of the outward signs of the recent recession. The journey to Cashel, Co. Galway took only a couple of hours and the scenery on route was very rugged. I spent most of the time imagining how it might be possible for towns with such a strong sense of community to recover their economy. Although it was overcast and there were some showers it was still possible to remember we live in a beautiful country.

Is it possible for us to live in a beautiful economy as well? Mairead.

Somewhere Between Krakow and Budapest

| Mairead

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(Time to go…)

Right so, we’re in Budapest. It was very late (well, 8.30pm) when our train arrived into Budapest Kel station. But in spite of the lateness, the ten-hour train journey and our tiredness we managed the transfer from diesel train to underground metro to city tram very efficiently. Our new host met us at the door (just around the corner from a McDonalds… so if the wi-fi doesn’t work we’ll know where to go… of course we won’t) and when we understood the door code and the previously mentioned wi-fi code we set off to eat. We took the first easy to understand restaurant… we had pizza.

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(Part of Market Square, Krakow)

All that means we didn’t see Budapest yet, but I’ve been scanning the multiple guidebooks left for us on the coffee table and if the photos are anything to go by Budapest is beautiful. We’ll get a chance to confirm that as we’re planning to go on another walking tour later.

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(They do like their meat)

Meanwhile, I feel like I’m in a travelling zone between one country and the next where I’m the same as I was yesterday but the place has changed. When we get to a new place we immerse ourselves as completely as possible in that place. You can’t help but eat the food, use the money, try the language, connect (even superficially) with the tour guides, the ticket sellers, the waiters and waitresses. But added to that you hear the history, the history of the living. There are people living here who have lived during a terrible war, through a communist take over, through communist ruling, through the fall of communist rule. And they continue to live through the emigration of their children. So I’m still emotionally still in Krakow (even though the history is probably very similar in the Czech Republic and in Hungary.)

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(Shade and a coffee, sigh)

As we walked around Krakow we often saw little groups of school children walking in twos after their teacher. They usually had matching peaked caps, bright yellow and orange are popular. The first time I saw them I was struck by the thought that they may grow up and move to Ireland and I felt really sad. Even as I write it makes me feel sad again. Not because I don’t want them to come… I don’t want them to leave…

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(Not the hammer of safety this time… probably the electricity of death)

And I don’t want to leave Krakow either, Mairead.

 

 

So Long, Farewell!

| Mairead

27 05b

(Last night’s storm ( and our drain pipe) on the balcony)

Another Tuesday, another train journey. We’re off to Budapest today and we’re sad to leave Krakow. It’s really beautiful. It’s also friendly and easy-going, and they have great food. And great weather, well it was this week. We got caught in a spectacular thunder and lightning storm last night. Very beautiful and only a little damp. But still great.

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(Last night’s storm in the Market Square)

Before we got here we noticed a ring of green on the map of Krakow and wondered what it was. It’s a park where once there were walls and a moat and now there are trees and paths. It’s shady in the sun and provides some cover in the rain. There are always people here, walking or running or skateboarding or cycling or sitting or sleeping. It’s an easy route to find your way around the old town and it’s the route we’ll be taking to the train this morning. It passes churches, restaurants, the university. Through the trees you can see and hear the blue trams and when you get to the street intersections you can see all the way to the huge main square.

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(A small section of the park around Krakow before the storm)

Speaking of street intersections, when you get to a pedestrian crossing point the traffic stops to let you cross the road. Everywhere we’ve been in Krakow crossing the road has been a joy. It’s almost like the pedestrian is king not the car (or bus or tram) We stand at a zebra crossing and a car, which up to that point is moving, just stops. We’re crossing a road and there’s no zebra stripes, the cars stop. Sometimes we’re about to cross but think the car is too close to stop, the car stops. It’s good to be the king.

Goodbye beautiful Krakow, Mairead.

 

Free Tea! Free Coffee!

| Mairead

25 05a

(Art on the old city wall)

Before we got here I was researching Krakow (with help, thank you Magda!) and one of the things I found was a free cafe, called Cafe Fińska. Well, almost free… in return for a cup of coffee or tea you add some art work to the paper tablecloth. I was very interested. Imagine having a place where people could get together, share a tea or coffee and do some art…. it’s probably not surprising I was interested. So I searched for more information about this place and as it wasn’t too far from our apartment, I thought it might be nice to go visit.

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(The old (city gate)… and the new (McDonald’s arches)…)

I wasn’t sure what to expect and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to communicate with only one word of Polish. But nothing ventured… so on Friday with a map and google directions (really miss data) scribbled on top we started walking in the direction of the (former) Jewish Ghetto. It took nearly an hour and the weather was very warm so we were a little flushed when we arrived. Denis made sure I went in first…

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(A sign…)

The cafe is on the ground floor of a triangular-shaped building at the junction of two streets and it is tiny inside. The walls are covered in art, as is the (paper) table-cloth. There are mugs and a tea-making area in one corner (do you call it a corner if it’s a triangle?) There’s a six seater table down one side and a two person sofa on the other. When we walked in there were two men playing chess at a small table in the middle and one man on his iPad on the sofa.

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(Low flying helicopter)

Not knowing the etiquette for this situation I decided to go ahead and announce myself. I spoke as slowly as my nervousness would allow, hi I’m from Ireland and I heard about your cafe, would you be able to tell me something about it, please? Silence. Oh, do you speak English? The older of the men at the chess board pointed to the two others and they laughed sheepishly and said yes. In the end the older man explained the history of the cafe while the younger one translated. The third man made our tea.

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(See the bugle peeping out the top window of St Mary’s Church? Every hour on the hour, 24 hours a day (yes someone gets up in the middle of the night to do this) the bugle sounds over Krakow. To commemorate the bugler who was shot with an arrow to the throat as he warned the town of invaders)

It started last year when there was an art festival in Krakow. A guy called Michał Mioduszewski, an artist all the way from Warsaw created it as an art installation in the Grolsch ArtBoom Festival, June 2013. His working title: Revolutions happen in cafes. It was a great success and then the art festival was over and it was time to close everything down. But it didn’t close. The locals loved the cafe so much that they decided they wanted to keep it. They have been paying the rent ever since. They are also donating their time, their tea, their coffee and sometimes their baked goods. It opens six days a week from 4.30pm and sometimes they have concerts and classes. Everything is run on a voluntary basis with donations going towards the rent. No one makes any money out of this venture, except maybe the landlord!

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(The foot bridge over the river covered in locks declaring love)

We left after our tea and I thanked the men (in Polish – thank you, Kinga!) All the way back to town I wondered…. is this only possible in Krakow or in Poland?

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(Tram tracks through the park)

Maybe… maybe not… Mairead.

P.S. A link to more information about Cafe Fińska.

Pictures in a Museum

| Mairead

20 05a

(The Jewish Cemetery is outside and photography is allowed here)

We went to the Jewish Museum yesterday. It was a beautiful sunny day and the streets were packed. The museum was also packed. It’s not an ordinary museum, it’s a synagogue, the Pinkas Synagogue with small rooms and winding staircases. You have to get up close and personal with the other visitors. On entering you see the walls are covered in writing, very neat letters, names and dates of births and deaths, every space on every wall covered. There are 80,000 names. They are people who lived in the area that is now the Czech Republic during the second World War, but because they were Jewish they were killed. There are so many names it’s hard to take it in and anyway you don’t want to take it in, so you keep walking. It goes in on its own. Photography is not allowed in this part of the museum.

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(These are old graves)

I had heard there was an exhibition of children’s art upstairs in the museum and we went to see that. In 1941 the German occupying army started deporting Jewish people to a transit camp called Terezin, north of Prague. The church leaders deterred in the camp at the time considered it imperative to take care of the children, in a particular way. They wanted them to know about their heritage and they wanted to help them cope with their life in the camp. So there were lessons. Including art lessons.

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(It’s very crowded but a seed has managed to take root and is growing into a strong tree)

A lady called Friedl Dicker-Brandeis had studied art at the Bauhaus (one of her teachers was Paul Klee.) She was a painter and she took on the role of art teacher to the children. She was very clear in what she wanted the children to gain: understanding, communication, self-expression and a channel for their imagination and emotions. By the time she was transported to Auschwitz in 1944, she had hidden two suitcases full of children’s drawings (4,500). These were found after the war and given to the Jewish community. Photography is not allowed in this part of the museum either. The art in the glass cases show dormitories, guards, gates of the camp, and ordinary things like the sun, friends, flowers. Most of the pictures have an exhibit card that records the artist’s name, date of birth, of death and title of picture.

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“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” Viktor E. Frankl, an Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist as well as a Holocaust survivor.

We’re leaving Prague today and travelling to Krakow, Mairead.

Head Space – there’s an app for that!

| Mairead

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(Sign from bridge in Mount Usher Gardens… don’t jump, leap)

I’ve started doing meditation. I’ve started many times before but this time I might keep going. So far I’ve completed twenty days. I’m doing it with an app. It’s on my phone and every morning it reminds me that it’s time to get some head space. So I sit down, tap the app and a guy talks me through fifteen minutes of calming words and paying attention to my breathing.

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(They have funny signs…)

Last Friday was about noticing my emotions and then noticing my breathing. He says it’s not that I’m supposed to change anything, just notice. Funny enough when I begin noticing my breathing something changes with my emotions. Not the emotion but the power behind it, it seems to shift back to me. The week before was about noticing discomfort in my body (like pain or irritation or just an itch). When I noticed discomfort there was no need to change it just notice it. I had a slight pain in my shoulder but I figured it was enough to use for the noticing exercise. I think the idea is that we normally resist the discomfort and this makes the discomfort even more uncomfortable. But when we notice or pay attention to the discomfort it comes to the surface of our consciousness and can be released.

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(and a sad sign…)

So I tried it and it was a very different sensation to “feeling” the pain in my shoulder. Noticing the pain in my shoulder doesn’t make my mind wander to Is there something wrong with my shoulder? So, no worry, just curiosity, about that discomfort thing in my shoulder. The pain in my shoulder didn’t go away but the next day when I was noticing for discomfort in my body, my shoulder had less pain than the previous day.

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(and a strong sense of history and the details)

I might just keep doing this kind of meditating, Mairead.

PS The app is called Headspace, the first ten days are free and you can pay by the month or the year after that. I signed up for one month’s worth. Oh and Denis didn’t write it! And they’re not paying me (or him) I just like it and I paid for it… myself… This is getting way too long-winded.

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.

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(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.

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(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.

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(Old hearts)

It’s okay to love solitude. Mairead.

Fearlessness in Baby Steps

| Mairead

2310f

(French window)

Ok….. so, I’m supposed to be practicing (from the dictionary: the actual application or use of an idea, belief, or method as opposed to theories about such application or use) my fearlessness this week. I was figuring that might include some standing up on a soapbox or knocking on people’s doors or listening to a lot of criticism. It turned out to be a lot simpler than that. (Thankfully.)

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(French gate)

But before fearlessness there came little drops of sunshine. I have no idea who reads my words, unless they tell me. So I don’t know if the person who sent me this beautiful Ted talk about creativity read my last post. Or the person who met me for coffee…. Or the two people who gave me massages… Or the person who listened without asking me anything… Or the person who sent me a text to tell me she was doing lots more creative things since talking to me… Or the person who told me she was thinking of me… Or the person who sent me a link to hens (yes hens)… Maybe their kindness was a coincidence, but this week I got a heap of kindness. And the best bit? No one encouraged me. No one told me it was easy. No one told me to just do it. No one told me not to do it. No one pointed out that I didn’t know how to follow my dream… The silence was beautiful, thank you 🙂

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(French garage doors)

And in the silence there was the first fearlessness – listening to myself. You might be surprised to learn that the one who thinks I should be doing things better… is me. Funny that. (Well, no not that funny, really.) Yep, there’s no group of protestors with banners outside my door calling TRY HARDER IN THERE! The protest is inside. This might be a good time to silence the protest inside my head.

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(French church door)

And in that (at least partial) silence there was the second fearlessness. Anytime I’ve encouraged others to practice fearlessness (or any other new behaviour) I’ve known it needs to be done in baby steps. And it needs to include gentleness as you would towards a baby taking their first steps. Loudly shouting at the baby to GET UP OFF THAT FLOOR AND WALK, NOW! rarely brings success. This was a good time to practice the baby-step theory.

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(French hiding door)

So, my itsy, bitsy, baby step happened quietly, gently at a small table in a pretty little coffee shop. I sat with an old friend (she’s not old, she’s… ah, you know what I mean) who definitely didn’t read my post and I haltingly (at first) began to tell her about my hopes and dreams for getting other people to connect to their creativity and to their peace… and no one died… and she understood… and then we talked about something else.

Brene Browne

(And my favourite sister sent me this photo-quote… It’s Brené Brown who is also running a creativity course… with Oprah! Creativity is very in…..)

I’m grand, how are you? Mairead.