inspire

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.

Oranges and Sunshine

| Mairead

(Does that look safe to you?)

We’re going to the movies tonight. To the Mermaid Theatre. Every Monday night it turns into a cinema. The movie is called Oranges and Sunshine. I’ve read the book and couldn’t put it down. It’s about a woman who discovered by accident that little children from Britain were sent to Australian orphanages in the 1940’s, after the second world war. Their parents thought their children had been adopted by families in Britain. The children had been told their parents were dead. She found it difficult to get information but little by little she discovered the details were far worse than anyone realised. It’s a true story.

(More patterns)

Just in case you want to see it, I’ll say no more…. Except, the bit that was by accident is very interesting. She was working as a social worker and she had clients who were adopted and had found or were in the process of finding, or beginning the process of finding, their birth parents. She felt they needed a support group, so she set one up. And it hadn’t been running long when a series of events led to her uncovering the story that’s in the movie.

(Liam brought us a very nice cake box and there was cake in it!)

Anyway, what I find interesting is, this woman didn’t plan to do some great big thing. She was doing her own little thing. Not that setting up a support group is little, it was very helpful to the people in the group. But she ended up being helpful to far greater numbers of people. And if she hadn’t done that first thing……

(No pictures please! How do I convince people they really DO want their picture taken?)

So I was thinking…. there’s probably some small thing calling out to all of us. Some little thing that we’d like to do but we haven’t got the time. Or maybe we think it might be selfish to do it. Or it could be considered a bit silly. But what if doing that little thing could accidentally lead us to uncovering an amazing story…. our story? That’s a nice idea.

Just one small thing, Mairead.

Start at the end…

| Mairead

(Like a bird on the wire……)

I was reading the book Do the Work by Steven Pressfield while we were on holidays and I’ve been thinking about it again today. The part I’m remembering is the bit about Start with the End. We do something similar in Success Teams.

(Big stones turn into little ones….)

The idea is, you ask yourself what you want to be true at the end of a project. So let’s say the project was… the printing I was doing yesterday. What do I want to be true at the end? At the end I want a hand printed piece of material that could be hung on the wall. That’s the external reason. But there’s also an internal reason.

(The stream flows to the sea…..)

So I ask the question –  what’s it all about? What is it about this finished project that grabs me? What is it that makes me glow, or sparkle or shine or sing! That’s when the internal reason appears. For my printing project…… I wanted to create repeating patterns. I wanted to use paint because I love the way it starts like a blob and then flows. I love the way you can roll it onto a piece of wood and the wood becomes wet with the paint. I love that pressing the painted block onto the cotton material leaves an impression……. And then repeating it makes a pattern and I sigh…. that’s it.

(And the waves roll in and out… )

Going into this much detail with the ending makes a lasting impression on your unconscious, so that it’s almost as if the project was already done….. and it was… in the future! And that draws you towards it… compels you towards it. Imagine if the thing you wanted was drawing you towards it? It would become possible. The thing you want is possible….. how cool is that? Then, you can take the first step…..

The end,  Mairead.

Making an Impression

| Mairead

(Melting blue ice cream paint)

The rain is bucket-ing down outside but I’m a happy bunny. I’ve been spending time making material. Well… not exactly making material, printing onto material is a more accurate description. It involves plain white cotton and fabric paint and a little paint roller and wooden blocks. The blocks have a pattern etched onto them. First I pour the paint onto a plastic receptacle, (a Chinese takeaway lid!) then roll the roller in the paint. Next I apply the roller to the wooden block and then press the block onto the cotton material.

(Rolling the roller in the paint)

So… sounds harmless enough doesn’t it? Not really that engrossing? But to me it is completely engrossing. Let me explain it…. more slowly this time.

(Rolling the paint onto the wooden block)

I have a lot of crafting books. Books about patchwork, card-making, knitting, crochet, book-binding (yes, really!), sewing projects and hand printing…. are all sitting on my book shelves. So, from time to time I pick one up and start to turn the pages. Very soon something shifts in me and a kind of glow begins to flow. I become inspired. It could be anything, a colour, a shape, a pattern… sigh, patterns. A few months ago when I was looking through a book called Hand Printing by Lena Corwin, the glow began to flow and I wanted to print on fabric. In this case it was the patterns, repeating across the page that got me.

(Making an impression)

This week I began the doing part. The cotton material was washed and ironed. I’m ready. I pour the blue paint onto the plastic lid. I love this bit, it looks like melted ice cream. I lift an edge so that the paint flows slowly down the plastic. Then I slowly roll the roller in the paint, until it is completely blue. Then I pick up the wooden block and slowly (important bit) slowly roll the paint covered roller over the block. I see the paint sticking to the wood and when I’ve rolled over and back and sideways, slowly, I put the roller down. Then slowly, I move over to the fabric and holding the wooden block, now blue, I use both hands and press it firmly onto the material. Then slowly, I lift the block away from the material, this feels a bit like lifting your wellington booted foot out of the mud, squelch! And then I look at what I’ve done, and I sigh. I am engrossed.

(Finished)

My friend Ashleigh sent me a quote today, “A wise woman is someone who can find time for herself every day.” I think this probably applies to men too…

Become engrossed, slowly, today, Mairead.

Thank you Aunty Phil!

| Mairead

(Butterfly in Powerscourt Gardens)

The Happy Pear cafe/restaurant/vegetable shop in Greystones has come up with another healthy idea. They are asking people to donate their old bicycles, no matter what condition. They will fix them up and then make them available free-to-ride around the town, just like the blue bicycles in Dublin and other cities. Then you can leave your car on the edge of town and borrow a bike and ride around to get your groceries or to just meet friends.

(No pictures of The Happy Pear – a happy cabbage instead?)

That got me thinking about when I first came to live in the big city (Dublin) when I was nineteen. My mother organised that I would live with my aunt, who was (and still is!) just three years older than me. I had just got into a computer course with a small software house and she was at university in Trinity. She travelled in each day on her bicycle. At home in Cashel, I used my bike once in a while and usually only rode it on the footpaths…. nevertheless, it was decided I would need my bicycle. As my course was on her way and I didn’t know (for a while…) how to get there, we rode together most mornings.

(Old stone wall on the Aran Islands)

It would probably have been the bravest thing I ever did, if I thought it was dangerous. But I didn’t. My aunt taught me how to weave in and out through the traffic – there were no cycle lanes then. She taught me that it was essential to be at the front of the traffic when the lights went from red to green. She taught me that I had as much right to be using the road as the cars, buses (no bus lanes either) and trucks, and she taught me to believe that. Because, once I knew I belonged on the road, the other road users knew it too and they gave me space.

(Old stones on the beach)

She did all of this without telling me anything. But in her every behaviour she told me by example.

Be the example of what you want in the world, Mairead.

PS. Thank you Auntie Phil!

Gratitude

| Mairead

(Thank you note)

I got a beautiful Thank you note from my niece this morning. It was pink and had hearts and flowers on it, all things I love. She said she loved the gift we had given her.

But…. what gift had we given her?

(I love hearts. Thank you Sally.)

Sometimes we can be completely unaware of the impact we are having on others. Our family, our friends, our neighbours, the people who serve us in the supermarket, the people we pass on the road in our car, on our bike or our feet. Are any of these people grateful for meeting us? Would any of these people send us a Thank you card? And what would it say if they did?

(…. Thanks!)

Thank you for listening to me…. Thank you for being there…… Thank you for smiling when you passed my door……Thank you for understanding when I made a mistake with your groceries……. Thank you for letting me pass at the narrow  part of the road…… Thank you for saying “Hi” when we met on the path…

Or what about the Thank you card you would send to them? Thank you for your support… Thank you for reading my emails…..Thank you for your understanding when our drains were mis-behaving (maybe not many people would have that one?)….. Thank you for admiring my skirt today, I wasn’t sure it worked…. Thank you for waving when I let you pass at the narrow part of the road….. Thank you for responding when I said “Hi”….

(Thank you, Thank you, Thank you)

These are not big things. But the impact – that’s BIG. Today my niece’s card has reminded me of gratitude. Thank you, Caoimhe, for reminding me and for being you.

What are you grateful for? Mairead.

Going Away Party

| Mairead

(“Just dump everything on the bed, we’ll sort it out after the party”)

Today I’m tired. We went to Cashel, my home town, at the weekend. My sister was throwing a party. A going-away party. She’s going away. To Canada. To follow her heart. With her husband and her daughter. My brother-in-law and my niece. My mother’s daughter, son-in-law and grandchild. My daughter’s aunt, uncle and cousin. The list could go on and on, because there were eighty adults and numerous children at that party who are related to or are very good friends with, my sister, her husband and their daughter.

(There are pretty doors in Ireland too)

Always, when we follow our heart, there are consequences. But we still have to follow our heart. Because the consequences of not following your heart are far worse. Living your life to maintain the status quo, to ensure that others are not disturbed, is not living “your” life.

(Just a quick snack before the party)

“Your” life is full to bursting with the possibilities, the dreams and the hopes of your heart. And the world needs those possibilities and dreams and hopes. And you’re the only one that can provide them….. like the poster says “We Need You!” And that applies to YOU whether you’re twenty-five or seventy-five, or older or younger or anything in between!

(My mother grows beautiful roses)

So although I’m tired and a little sad, I am also happy that my little sister and brother-in-law and niece are sharing the possibilities and dreams and hopes of their hearts with the world. They inspire me to do the same.

And….. I get to visit Canada!

Share yourself, Mairead.

Minding your own business

| Mairead

(Coffee and a cook book – heaven)

It’s Saturday. Denis and I went on our Saturday date this morning. Well, not exactly morning as it was nearly one o clock by the time we left . Because we had a visit from our new “drain man”, but that’s another story. Although he will be part of this story.

Anyway, we went to Dun Laoghaire, for those who don’t know it, it’s a big town, with a long pier that the people of south Dublin and Wicklow like to walk. It also has a lot of shops, small and big. It’s on the Dart (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) train line and it also has a ferry port.

While we were there we had coffee, and wandered into and out of a few shops. We were in a small outdoor and sports shop, looking at crocs shoes when we heard a conversation between the shop assistant and a customer. The customer (male) was saying, ” I’m looking for a pair of comfortable shoes for walking about in, would you have something like that?” And the assistant (male) said “well…we have one make, but they’re not very good.” Needless to say the customer didn’t buy them. He didn’t even get to see them!

We were wondering about the possibility that there might be a room full of “not very good” walking shoes in the back of the shop. Something was niggling me.

And then we went into the pen shop. It’s a very small shop on the top floor of the shopping center. It only sells pens… and inks, biros, calculators and there might be other things too. Something you may not know about Denis is he loves pens. Not just any pens. Very particular pens. Before he buys one he has to try them out and compare them. They have to feel “right”. They have to be quiet (I kid you not, one he tried today, was too “noisy”…..) So we enter the shop and the assistant jumps up to greet us. He looks happy to see us. He’s also happy to bring out lots and lots of pens for Denis to try – lots.

By the time Denis makes a choice, the assistant has his phone number. So that he can give him a call when a pen Denis mentioned gets delivered. At this stage I’m starting to think I might need a pen too! What a nice experience.

(All gone)

And that’s when the niggling unfolded.

The man in the pen shop wasn’t an assistant, he was the owner. When you’re the owner of your business your intention is to thrive and (in this economic climate) to survive and you do what’s necessary, in fact you’re HAPPY to do what’s necessary. When you’re the assistant your intention is a bit different. It might be to keep your job, or to just get through your day. But you’re probably not emotionally or financially invested in the success of the business.

My new “drain man” runs his own business. He spent time talking to me on the phone, before any money changed hands. He works on Saturdays. He answers his own phone. He’s invested. I had a good experience. I’ll be recommending him.

And that led me to the thought, there have been times in my life when I just want to get through the day. How would it be different if my intention was to thrive during that day, and every day in my life? To be the owner of my own day, my own life…. And I bet that it would affect the people who meet me, my family, my friends. Maybe they would have a nice experience too.

Mind your own business, Mairead