little things

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!

Debugger is not a rude word!

| Mairead

(Old door handle at Sheena’s house)

Last Friday night Denis and I sat on the sofa together and watched a session from the Apple Developers Conference. I was not sitting there because I wanted to watch grown men applaud software – it was Denis’ turn to choose a movie…..

(Avoca in Ashford serves Robins too)

But, you know, after a while it started to get interesting. This particular session was about a new debugger. Yes, that’s a real word (isn’t it great, it sounds rude, but it’s completely legal!). A debugger is a software program that helps programmers to de-bug (take out bugs, errors, faults from) the software they are writing. So if you’ve written a piece of software and it’s not doing what you thought it would be doing you use a debugger.  It steps through the lines of code you’ve written and shows you what’s happening, every step of the way. So you can see which line of code caused the problem. Apple have gone to great lengths to add lots of helpful bits to their debugging software, to provide more useful information and to make it even easier to use. And lots of people (well…men) at the conference were very pleased.

(Look! A heart-shaped stone!)

That got me thinking. Wouldn’t it be really helpful if we had a personal debugger. It could be attached to our phones or even better it could fit in our ear….. Then when something we’re not expecting happens, the debugger could replay the scene step by step and we would see what’s gone wrong, and change it.

(Daisies)

So for example: You’re chatting with significant other (could be partner, mother, friend, sibling) and suddenly (or slowly) you realise you are really irritated and you have even begun to say some potentially damaging stuff. What’s more, you’re saying it out loud! The “other” either storms off / says some of their own stuff / starts to sob / looks stunned – take your pick.

(Little kitten legs…. cute)

Wouldn’t it be great at this moment to be able to click the debugger in your ear and find the moment where it all went wrong? Then change that line of code so it wouldn’t go wrong again? We have loads of code in our heads, written by others or written by us for a good reason, at the time, but the time is different now. We are much more intelligent than any computer, so we can debug our own code just by noticing it.

Debug yourself, Mairead.

Morning Pages

| Mairead

(Come on in….)

A long time ago I read the book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. In it, there’s an exercise called Morning Pages. The idea is that every morning before you do anything else, you take our your A4 pad and your pen and write without stopping for three pages. What do you write? The first thing that comes into your head and if nothing does, you write “nothing is coming into my head” and usually that’s all it takes for something to come into your head!

(Patterns)

I think the rational for this exercise is two-fold. One, it’s practice at writing and two, it clears all the thinking stuff out of your head and onto the page. When the thinking stuff is gone, then there’s space for the good stuff. The good stuff is wise and helpful and intuitive. The kind of stuff that gets buried under the worry and trouble and problems. The whole process  is a bit like weeding a vegetable patch so that your crops can grow.

(Pink geraniums)

I wrote my Morning Pages for at least eighteen months. Clearing the thinking stuff was very useful and of course I enjoyed the writing. But the added bonus was the structure and discipline of daily practice. Practice makes Perfect. In order to become good at something we need practice. That includes being calm or staying grounded or accepting ourselves or living a less is more kind of life or whatever it is that floats your boat! We need to practice…. daily.

(More patterns)

Practice, practice, practice, Mairead.

Why are we here?

| Mairead

(More patterns)

I’ve started my de-clutter project. So far my room is beginning to feel clear and un-cluttered….. in one corner. This isn’t going to be a rush job. It took a long time to get this way, it will take more than one day to undo.

I noticed as soon as I got up this morning I was ready to begin and that got me thinking about intention. Intention is very interesting. It’s where you consciously decide how you want to be, or how you’re want a situation to be. Then, it acts as a guiding light drawing you towards exactly that. So in effect yesterday I set the intention of clearing the clutter today. Because I had written about it, it was very clear in my mind what my intention was and it corresponded with what I wanted to happen. Ok, I still had to empty the drawers – it’s not magic but it is easier.

(Hanging around on Bray Promenade)

Each time we get into the car to drive we start off with an intention. To go to work, the shops, the garage, the airport. A long time ago when my daughter was little and I was running late, I drove to the supermarket instead of her play-school. I was thinking of what we needed for dinner. When the car stopped, she said “This isn’t my school, why are we here?”

(And more patterns)

If we do not consciously set the intention then we get the default and what’s worse it’s usually the thing we fear happening. So for example, if you hate social occasions, then the default intention as you enter a party is  something like, “I’m going to hate this.”. You definitely didn’t want that. A more useful intention might be “I’m going to notice people or things I like about this party”. Now your attention has a focus other than your dislike of the situation.

(Somewhere a farmer intends to feed his animals for the winter)

Intention focuses the attention. Do you want your attention to be on what you fear happening? Or what you’d love to happen? What would you love to happen? Put your attention on what you’d love to happen by setting that as your intention. Hint: Start small!

Where are you driving to? Mairead

Let the Bag Decide

| Mairead

(You can never have enough tin cans…. or blue paint…..)

On holidays, a small bag was the only storage available for my worldly goods. There’s only so much luggage a motorbike can carry and it’s not as much as a small car! At first it seemed impossible. How would I fit everything I needed? Maybe it was impossible.

But Denis devised a mantra which he delivered faithfully whenever I asked if there was room for something new….. “Let the Bag Decide”. By this he meant, if it fits in the (small) bag then there was room for it.. but the bag had to close……..

(You can never have enough baskets……)

So I had to prioritise. I had to bring less. I had to choose what was important to me. Not a bad exercise. But the surprising things? It was amazingly freeing, really…… and easy to keep tidy…. and easy to pack up….. and easy to unpack….. and it took me less time to choose what I would wear each morning, not a small saving!…… and I didn’t miss the stuff I didn’t bring.

(Maybe you can have too many CDs…)

Back home there’s no need to prioritise. If I think I might wear something I hang onto it just in case. It’s not just clothes. So I was thinking it’s time for a new mantra:   “Less is More”

Starting tomorrow (too busy tidying up to start today…) I’m doing a de-clutter.

(You can never have too many board games……)

How many shoes do I really need? Could five rain coats be excessive, even if it is raining in June? Can I survive the loss of the old paint cans in the shed? Will I regret dumping (in the recycle bin) the jam jars I’ve been saving for…. mm… for something?

Less is More, Mairead

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.

Pause between the Cycles

| Mairead

(Raspberries in Liam and Kate’s garden)

Today I’m doing housework. Sitting here on the sofa, squashed up between the upside down side tables, the books and the cushions, it looks like I’ve been very busy. I like this moment. Before everything goes back in its place. If someone walked in now they would think I was a great housewife (as long as they didn’t notice me sitting down).

(Seemingly Lavender keeps the flies at bay?)

There’s a similar moment when I do the ironing (which I love doing). The moment when the shirts hang crease-less, the t-shirts and jeans stand in their towers, and the sheets, duvet covers and pillowcases look like they’ve just come from the shop. I make this moment last as long as possible. Sometimes, it’ll be days later when I put away the finished ironing. Until then I’ll smile inwardly every time I see it. Of course, the longer that moment takes, the longer it will be before the cycle begins again.

The cycle of washing, drying and ironing.

(Wrinkles on the old tree – beautiful)

Breathing is a bit like that. We breathe in……… we breathe out…….. we pause….. Then the cycle begins again. The pause is like noticing the ironed clothes and smiling inwardly. Notice it!

Breathe, Mairead.

Raindrops

| Mairead

(Rain on the red flowers in the front garden….)

I was out walking in the rain today. Not really by choice, I had some things I needed to do. I was wearing a raincoat and a hat and a skirt. Sorry men, but a skirt is the most comfortable thing to wear when it’s raining. It doesn’t stick to your legs and when you get into the car you can turn it around and not be sitting on the wet bit…. comfy! So I was dressed to withstand the downpour. But I’m not usually.

(Very wet rain)

I was wondering about that. The fact that I know it rains a lot here and yet I don’t usually go out prepared for rain. Am I crazy? What’s that about? Never mind, the result is I’m wet and miserable and I don’t notice all the lovely things going on around me. Not useful.

(Rain on the things that grow from the big plant….)

How might I improve on this? What if I start acting as if it rains a lot in Ireland – by bringing an umbrella and a hat and a coat and a skirt? Or by wearing the motorbike rain gear all the time? Both those solutions are grand but it’s all a little heavy to carry around in my handbag.

(Rain on the lovely looking leaves….)

There is one other solution. I could let go of resisting the thing that’s already happening and consider getting rained on as a nice enjoyable thing,or just a thing that’s happening.  When I get home I could change into the dry skirt and hat and maybe even the coat (in case I’m a little chilly). Less to carry around, nice attitude to be feeling, probably good for health. The great thing is, there’ll be plenty of opportunities to practice letting go of resistance (with all the rain, I mean).

Embrace your rain (whatever it is…), Mairead.