photography

Organic Gardening.

| Mairead

Fork

(Tip: Take in your garden tools at the end of the summer)

While I was out in the garden just now, I was thinking about organic change. You might remember the situation with the very tall and healthy weeds in the garden last year? Well… things have changed, the weeds are alive and well and they’ve been having children, so it’s even more densely packed down there. While the weather was cold I was able to ignore the debauchery but it was sunny yesterday. So I went and had a look – it’s bad. For a moment or two I was in despair. But a funny thing happened….

Pot

(Tip: Some pots are not frost-proof)

We went on our Saturday date to a coffee shop that also happens to have a garden centre. While we were wandering among the plants on our way to coffee the beginnings of an old love affair were stirring in my heart. No, I won’t be leaving Denis. It was my love affair with gardening. I had forgotten but the last time the garden was weed-free I had a great time planting and pruning. And before that I remember digging was great for anger! So I bought a bag of compost and a few herbs and when we got home I began gardening. Not the forced gardening where all the weeds must be pulled or dug and the grass must be cut and the hedges must be trimmed today. No, instead, the baby step organic gardening of pots and plants. One by one at my leisure I put the herbs and the compost into some pots. I enjoyed myself for three hours and then spent an hour admiring my work. (I positioned my chair carefully so that I couldn’t see the weeds.)

Veg

(Aren’t vegetables lovely?)

Like forced change, forced gardening is no fun… on the other hand organic gardening is lots of fun. I’m not talking about gardening without chemicals (which I also like..) I’m talking about gardening at your own pace, in your own time, you can even sit down while you do it! When I got up this morning I couldn’t wait to get outside and do some more organic gardening. I didn’t even stop when the rain came. The weeds won’t be cleared in a few days, it’ll probably take a few months, but that just means I’ll have months of fun!

Could this be the start of an organic way of life? Mairead.

I Like Change!

| Mairead

1

( Placemat pattern)

I have taken a writing break and what a great break it was! I’m back and nothing has changed…. In general most people say they hate change. But maybe it’s forced change they hate? Because every day, every moment we are alive we are changing. Our cells change, the air in our body changes, the beat of our heart changes, we change.

2

(Salt and pepper pattern)

Forced change on the other hand is when something outside of ourselves tells us, or forces us, to change. The redundancy, the cholesterol test, the BIG birthday. Well, who wouldn’t hate being forced?

3

(Spring pattern)

Since last writing I’ve been enjoying the other change – organic change. With organic change you notice something. Something catches your attention. You are drawn towards something. The “drawn towards it” is very gentle, very graceful. And it is also change – organic change. It’s slow, it has the pace of a snail but a snail with the occasional ability to fly. I am drawn towards writing in this snail-like way and I like this change, this organic change..

Organic Change Rocks!

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.

1

(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.

Hello blog, whatcha got today?

| Mairead

2

(Brooklodge Hotel near Aughrim, Co. Wicklow)

Every day to write this blog, I sit down facing a window with a view to the sky. I never know what I’m going to write about. I never know if anything will turn up. I just start writing. There are some things I do know from experience. One, whatever turns up will take an hour to fully form itself on the page. Two, if I worry that nothing will turn up, nothing turns up. Three, if I edit as I go, I end up with a blank page. Four, if I worry that it’s not good enough, I won’t be able to write anything. Five, if I stop to worry that no one will like it, I won’t start up again… some days I don’t.

1

(Window with sky view)

So my best advice to myself is… just write it… just begin… just keep going… just finish. When I just write it stuff turns up, stuff I didn’t realise was available to me. Then I can get rid of bits and play around with bits and at the end of an hour I have a blog and I’m finished. Today that makes me think this advice could be useful for any endeavour.

3

(Just make… a cute design in the sugar)

Like the book you want to write… just write it. Like the picture you want to paint… just paint it. Like the workshop you want to attend… just attend it. Like the holiday you want to take… just take it. Like the food you want to cook… just cook it. Like the story you want to tell… just tell it. Like the work you want to do… just do it. Like the self you want to be… just be it… just begin… just keep going… just finish.

Just start, Mairead

Every day to write this blog, I sit down facing a window with a view to the sky. I never know what I’m going to write about. I never know if anything will turn up. I just start writing. There are some things I do know from experience. One, whatever turns up will take an hour to fully form itself on the page. Two, if I worry that nothing will turn up, nothing turns up. Three, if I edit as I go, I end up with a blank page.
So my best advice to myself is… just write it… just begin… just keep going… just finish. When I just write it  stuff turns up, stuff I didn’t realise was available to me. Then I can get rid of bits and play around with bits and at the end of an hour I have a blog and I’m finished. Today that makes me think this advice could be useful for any endeavour.
Like the book you want to write… just write it. Like the picture you want to paint… just paint it. Like the workshop you want to attend… just attend it. Like the holiday you want to take… just take it. Like the food you want to cook… just cook it. Like the story you want to tell… just tell it. Like the work you want to do… just do it. Like the self you want to be… just be it… just begin… just keep going… just finish.
Just start, Mairead

Believe it or not…..

| Mairead

(There were lots of statues of bears like this around Berlin)

Unbelievably, four days later and I’m still at the coffee shop. Remember yesterday, I told you about my belief of being a failure? And the day before about how one situation can have many different ways of looking at it?

(TV tower with rotating restaurant, Alexanderplatz, Berlin)

There I was, finished with college at nineteen and no parchment to frame. Nothing to show for my time in the world of Electronic Engineering. Or had I? Well, with the benefit of hindsight and a different belief it turned out I was on a different course altogether…..

(Nice trees at the Palace)

I was on the “Find a Smart Husband Here” course! I got the (marriage) parchment (never did frame it). He was from Cork, I was from Tipperary, we met in Limerick, in the library. He had really interesting things to say, I was a good listener. There was no formal test. But it’s been more than thirty years now so I think I passed.

I like this story better than the failing one. All that I needed was to know that I had a story and then I could decide to pick one I liked better.

What story do you want to believe? Mairead.

A belief is only an opinion we think is true…

| Mairead

(3fe Abbey Street Dublin)

Still here at 3fe, it’s very busy but they haven’t asked me to leave…yet! So yesterday, I was talking about tying ourselves to a belief. I have another belief to share.

When I was eighteen and making my career choices, I hadn’t a clue what to do. I didn’t want to go to college, but I also didn’t have another option. So I took my career counsellor’s advice and started an Electronic Engineering course. At the time I liked to knit and my big dream was to become a Mom, but none of that appeared on my Leaving Certificate results so it didn’t count…..

(Above ground station on the underground railway, Berlin)

The course lasted for four years… I lasted just over a year. I failed. That was my belief. Added to that was a belief that I could not study, and I was inferior to people who could and who had successfully attained their degrees.

After that in every situation where I would be tested on my ability, I froze….. In case it’s not obvious, freezing in a test situation is not conducive to passing the test. Oops.

(Railway art… detail from previous picture)

So…. self-fulfilling story.

Naturally, I did my best to stay away from test situations….. well… who wants to fail? But the funny thing….. the thing that was guaranteeing my failure was me and my story!

Choose a useful story, Mairead

The stories we believe…..

| Mairead

(Beauty in the eye of the beholder)

So… I’m still here at the coffee shop and I’m thinking about the stories we believe about ourselves. When I was a new Mum, with a little baby that cried a lot, I believed I was a bad mother. It was an easy story to believe. Nothing I seemed to do would stop that crying. When I looked around at other mothers they seemed to know what they were doing, their baby wasn’t crying, that’s what makes a good mother……

(Room with a garden)

Unfortunately, when we believe a story, everything we see from then on fits into our story. We make it fit into our story. But the truth is, any situation we find ourselves in can be looked at in numerous ways. For the baby crying we can say…. bad mother, new mother, sick baby, bad food, painful allergy, high temperature, ill-health… which one is true? Who knows? Maybe all, maybe none.

(The east German walk man)

The “bad mother” can’t see the good things she’s doing, she has tied herself to a story. But a story is only something we believe about ourselves and a belief is only an opinion we think is true.

Maybe it’s time to pick up a new story, 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.