(Remembering Canada)
I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it. – Pablo Picasso
What do you want to learn to do today? Mairead.
inspire
Leonard and Leonardo…….
(Botanic Gardens, succulents)
We were looking at a very good documentary about Leonard Cohen on Saturday night. It was called I’m your Man and had other people singing his songs from a concert tour, while he chatted to the interviewer (and to us.). One of the songs I hadn’t heard before was called The Traitor. While Leonard explained the song to us I was reminded of Leonardo da Vinci. (Yes, interestingly similar names….)
(Fly catcher)
Each week in Art History we get an assignment, this week it’s about the High Renaissance, we have to choose one of the artists of the time and write about them. There are (as far as I can tell) only three artists in that time – Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and Raphael. I was wondering which one to go for when our lecturer told us a small detail about Leonardo….. he didn’t finish everything he started! Not really surprising when you think of all the things he did. He was a painter, sculptor, architect, musician, scientist, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, cartographer, botanist, and writer. Not really surprising and yet I was surprised, I thought finishing was really, really important and have felt guilty many times for the things I didn’t finish.
(Are they seeds?)
So getting back to Leonard Cohen who was explaining the song. He was saying that it was about a feeling that you had messed up some important mission, some important thing you were supposed to do. But you come to understand that the bigger mission was not to complete it. The real mission was whatever happened…. the deepest courage was to stand guiltless as “people called me traitor to my face“.
All is well, Mairead.
Watch La Luna by Pixar!
(Butterfly on lavender at Powerscourt Estate)
I watched a beautiful short movie on Sunday… here’s the blurb about it. There’s a little boy, his father and his grandfather and they are out in their boat. In the beginning of the movie the father gives his son a hat, the same kind of hat as the father’s, the same kind of hat as the grandfather’s. The father places this hat on the son, in a particular way – just like his own hat is placed on his head. The grandfather huffs and puffs, grabs the hat and then places it on his grandson’s head in a different particular way – just like his own hat is placed on his head.
(Gothic doorway)
There’s a bit of a scuffle and the father’s way of placing the hat on the little boy’s head finally wins and the story continues.
(Raindrops on flowers… requested by Grahame…..;-/)
By the end of the story the little boy places his hat in a completely different particular way on his own head as he teaches his father and grandfather something new. Our children learn all they can from us and then there comes a time for us to learn from our children. Probably sooner than we think…..
What’s the lesson for today? Mairead.
Friday Quote – There are many types of slavery.
(Flowers from the National Stud in Kildare)
“The moment the slave resolves that he will no longer be a slave, his fetters fall. Freedom and slavery are mental states.” – Mahatma Gandhi
A slave… to fashion, to social standing, to money, to work, to family, to friends. Mairead.
The rainy season has arrived…. time for a story change!
(Lovely day in Cashel, Co. Tipperary on Saturday)
It rained all day yesterday and it looks like it’s ready to do the same today. As always it’s funny how I get used to the weather and think it’ll never be any other way…. then it changes. At the weekend it was dry a little cold and sunny, I thought that was going to last, in fact I can’t remember where I put my rain coat and I don’t remember when I last needed it. It’s like the story of our lives…..
(Livestock in the grounds of Cashel Palace enjoying the sunshine)
When we’ve got past childhood and we’re making our way in the world we take with us lots of goodies. We’ve got skills like cooking, organising, speaking French, etc. We’ve got lots of baddies too, like nail-biting, eating with our mouth open, etc. And we’ve got our story. The story that defines us, tells us and the world who we are. Trouble is we are not completely aware of our own story. We’re not completely aware of the story of others either but at least we see their behaviours.
(Evening walk beside the Rock of Cashel)
When someone’s behaviour includes repeatedly putting themselves down, you can be sure their story includes a reason to be put down. When someone repeatedly allows others to bully them you can be sure their story includes them as the victim. When someone repeatedly makes fun of themselves, you can be sure their story includes the fool. But there’s good news, we can rewrite the parts of the story we don’t like, the parts that we notice when we notice our behaviour.
(Fence post perspective)
We don’t change it by putting ourselves down – that’s just more of the old story. We change the story when we are inspired. When something lights you up, lifts your heart, or just plain interests you – wallow in it! Play with it. Allow it to inspire a different story.
What lights you up? Mairead.
Helen Kearney’s welcome home.
(Picture of Helen Kearney in London. Source: Scott Heavey/Getty Images Europe)
I have more photos and things to say about Canada but first I want to tell you where I was on Saturday afternoon. I went to join hundreds of others in Dunlavin, Co. Wicklow, to welcome Helen Kearney home from the Paralympics. She won three medals – two bronze and one silver – in Equestrian Dressage and she got to meet Ryan Tubridy on the Late Late show!
(Some of the supporters. When she was younger Helen was in the Newcastle Lyons Pony Club)
Helen has a progressive degenerative disorder called Friedreich’s Ataxia and when she was diagnosed at the age of twelve her parents did something amazing – they bought her a horse. I’ve known Helen’s mum, Mary, since I was little – she’s my cousin – so it doesn’t surprise me but it does inspire me.
(Supporters came from Hollywood… Co.Wicklow)
I arrived early on Saturday as the groups of supporters were getting ready. There was great excitement and pride and everyone was smiling. Bunting had been stretched across the street and between the houses and almost every window displayed a picture of Helen. I had forgotten to bring my camera but had my phone – the pictures are a bit fuzzy.
(At the GAA club, speeches and clapping… lots of clapping)
The celebration began with a parade of horses and ponies and vintage cars and local groups, and it seemed like the whole town had turned out. We followed the parade to the GAA club and there were speeches and presentations and even poetry. The community of Dunlavin had organised the event and had baked cakes and buns so after the speeches we retired to the club house to drink tea and eat the cakes.
(One of the cakes, yum)
It was lovely meeting up with my cousins and my aunt Brigid (Helen’s granny) to celebrate a brilliant achievement and an inspiring young woman. Oh and I nearly forgot while she was in London competing Helen also graduated in absentia from University College Dublin with a Bachelor of Commerce!
Thank you Helen, for following your dream, Mairead.
Friday Quote – You can do it!
(You see that dot on the picture? That’s a man walking a tightrope between two (very tall) buildings in Niagara….)
“People become really quite remarkable when they start thinking that they can do things.”—Norman Vincent Peale
Our last day on holidays, we’re flying home tomorrow with lots of memories and tons of photos. Thank you Canada – you’ve been great! Mairead.
Walking in Delgany Graveyard.
(One of the oldest gravestones with the sunburst motif)
On Friday morning when I should have been packing (more about that later…) I was in a graveyard listening to a woman with a passion. It was Delgany graveyard and the woman was Lally de Buitlear. I want to be Lally when I grow up… For those of you who haven’t wandered as a child among old gravestones, it’s never too late to start.
(Formerly a spade… )
Last week was heritage week and there were lots of talks around Ireland. Lally introduced a group of thirty of us (including five very attentive children) to gravestones. We learned about the apprenticeship of a gravestone mason, the fashion for the sunburst design up to the 1700’s when it was replaced by the letters IHS. The fact that all the stones face the rising sun. The oldest ones are made of layers of slate, the old church (in ruins) was also made of slate, shipped over from Wales.Then there were the stories. About the odd-looking modern stone – the woman decided well before she died to get rid of her family gravestone and put up a “nice” new one…. About an old bicycle half hidden under the trees. About the power of a Buddleia tree to slowly topple a huge granite gravestone.
(Gravestone with IHS motif, notice the layers of slate)
But my favourite story was about Lally herself. When she was younger she decided to go on a photography course and one of her assignments was to visit a graveyard and capture the gravestones. She went to Delgany graveyard and filled her portfolio. Years later when she was committed to the restoration of this graveyard she took out her portfolio and used the photographs to apply for a grant to help with the work. What’s more there was some ruling that said you could only raise fallen gravestones if you had proof that they had been standing. Lally had the proof in her portfolio and her team were able to raise those who had fallen!
(Frost damage to the outer layer of slate)
It reminds me that nothing in our lifetime is without value. We may have started ten different jobs and finished none, we may have dropped out of college, we may have stayed in a job we hated, we may have taken time off to raise a child, we may have indulged in baking cakes, in learning karate, in playing board games. It all counts and it all adds up and it’s all valuable. It never too late to indulge your passions. Do the courses you are drawn to and fill your life with the things that make your heart sing. It may even lengthen your life! Thank you Lally de Buitlear, you are an inspiration and a mine of information. (By the way the team of volunteers at Delgany graveyard are always looking for more helpers.)
(The little church is in ruins but this floor tile survived)
Right.. the packing… we’re in Toronto! More about that tomorrow, Mairead.
Japanese Gardens Co. Kildare
(The Bridge of Life)
Yesterday we went to the Japanese Gardens. Our admission included a tour of the National Stud (horses) but we just went for the garden and the food. We arrived around midday and it was busy, tour buses and families. Ok everyone with the tour stand by the wall. As luck would have it there was a torrential rain shower as we got our tickets so we had an early lunch. Back in the garden it as a bit too busy for photographs, each time I lifted the camera to point at something picturesque a little one ran up to it. Look Gran-Mam, look at the stone! But I got a few.
(Couple of swans preening at the lakeside)
The garden symbolises the Life of Man. At the entrance you have the choice between the Easy Path and the Rugged Path. Of course we took the rugged path and before long were slipping and sliding on slick wet stones. Maybe the easy path would have been just fine….. We struggled on through the Cave of Birth – tight fit, the Tunnel of Ignorance – dark and wet, the Hill of Learning – more slipping and arrived at the Engagement Bridge. There’s a gap in the bridge and you have to leap (very small leap) across. On the Honeymoon Path there’s a Difference of Opinion and the path separates… We bravely climbed the Hill of Ambition and arrived at the Chair of Old age.
(Entrance to Fiachra’s Garden)
As the sun was still shining we decide to have a look at the Stud or at least the paddocks with the mares and foals, but it was not to be… another shower had us sheltering in the Beehive Monastic Cells. These are modelled on a monastic site found at Skellig Mhichil, off the west coast. A bit dark but very dry we sheltered with a few of the families. This was Fiachra’s Garden. Fiachra was a 6th century Irish monk who left Ireland and founded a hermitage in France. He encouraged manual labour, gardening and giving to the poor and is the French patron saint of gardeners. His garden here was designed to make us think of this man (and many more like him) who followed a path of adventure inspired by their passion.
Paths can be slippery – be aware! Mairead.
Travel stories 