Swirling currents and calm patches while we’re here.

09 8a

(Part of Grey Abbey)

After the Physic Garden we wandered around Grey Abbey. It’s in ruins now with only a few walls still standing, but there are helpful drawings dotted around to show us what it looked like when it was fully functioning. There is also an interpretative centre to explain how things might have been in the community and in Ireland at that time. It was a very peaceful place with only the four of us… along with the trees, a carpet of grass, birdsong, the headstones…. and possibly some spirits! We wandered from headstone to headstone and from building to building getting a feeling for what was here before us.

9 8c

(Some light refreshment to keep our energy up)

We went to Portaferry for our lunch. Again a very descriptive name… it’s the ferry port. The ferry is a car ferry across the narrowest point of Strangford Lough, where it meets the sea. Strangford Lough isn’t really a lough or lake – it’s open at one end, (it’s more like an estuary) – it’s a sea lough and it’s huge. Freshwater and salt water, from flowing rivers and tidal currents meet here at Portaferry.

9 8e

(The St. Brendan, our boat for the afternoon, with the car ferry in the background)

After our picnic in the sun we went on a boat trip up the lough (it took two hours to go half-way up – that’s how big the lough is) and as our boat passed the point where the freshwater met the tidal water we could see strange water currents surrounding flat calm water pools.

9 8d

(The swirling sea currents in the lough, with the calm water in the foreground)

I thought of where we stood in Grey Abbey, where previously monks walked and worked. Now, they are historic characters and we are here. In the future, we will be the historic characters. Someone will walk where we walked… but today we are here. And like these water currents sometimes we experience calm and sometimes we experience swirling and that’s what keeps happening while we’re here…

Tomorrow, the old fishing village, Mairead.

Friday’s Quote. The path to beauty holds a little pain.

09 7d

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”  ~ Elizabeth Kubler Ros

Recognise your hero beauty, Mairead.

The sun always shines… even if we can’t see it.

26 7a

(Shadows)

Would you believe, it’s very sunny today? It is! It’s not very hot and there are a few black clouds on the horizon but overhead the skies are blue and the summer shadows are very pretty. I was thinking that it’s only when the sun shines that we see those shadows and then we can choose to sit in a cool shadow or sit in warm sunshine. When the sun is behind the clouds we only have the shadows and it seems like the sunshine is gone for good.

26 7b

(Shadows)

It reminds me of the Hero’s Journey. How we’re all on a journey (or journeys) throughout our lives. Just like the hero we have to deal with difficulties on the ground, we have to fight battles or maybe even save maidens, but those bits are not the only story. The big story can only be seen from way up high, in the sky-view. Sometimes we get stuck in the ground view and we can’t see the bigger picture, we can’t see our beauty. We can’t see our sun shining behind the clouds.

26 7c

(Shadows)

When I was a young parent, I was very stuck in the ground view. In the nappies, in the crying, in the doctor’s visits, in the tedium. I thought my life would always be this way, the sunshine gone for good. I rarely saw the beauty of my hero. Whether you are a parent or an aunt, an uncle, a grandmother, a grandfather, a daughter, a son, a niece, a nephew or completely alone in the world, you are a hero and you have a hero role and it’s always there. Whether the sun shines or not, whether you are stuck in the mundane or not, you are always a hero.

Wear your hero hat, Mairead.

Sunshine, water and an excellent lawnmower.

(Some blue sky)

Yesterday provided a few little challenges for me… or maybe I provided them myself. It was sunny again so I figured this was a perfect opportunity to cut the grass. Two days of rain followed by a day of sunshine caused a grass growth spurt and I could only imagine how much taller it would grow if left unattended. (Maybe that was my first mistake… imagining something bad.) So, I put down my reading and went in search of the lawn mower. It was a petrol one and I’d used one before so I pressed the button in the front three times, moved the safety handle to the main handle and pulled the string. It started first time, excellent. That was the last excellent of the experience.

(This tree is the cat’s favourite scratching post)

Although I did notice that the garden was big, I only noticed it in an appreciative way… what great space and what wonderful possibilities. I didn’t notice it in the square yardage kind of way. I had completed about a tenth of the area when I decide to take a break. Thinking I had been cutting for at least an hour I checked the clock… twenty minutes had passed. Even though that probably indicated the whole job could be finished in three and a half hours and not ten, I still felt disappointed… it would feel like ten hours! This might have been a good time to stop cutting the grass. Instead, I had a big glass of water along with a couple of pages of reading and then returned to the job.

(Seedlings in the greenhouse)

A few more twenty-minute slots (remarkably I always seemed to be ready for a break in twenty-minute slots) and I came across a conundrum. In order to water the plants in the greenhouse there was a garden hose running between it and the outside tap. It ran across the lawn. When I realised it was in my path I wondered what the best possible course of action might be. I wondered would I un-plug the hose and lay it beside the lawn until I had finished cutting. I wondered would I just ignore it – it lay in a shallow groove which could mean it had been in place for previous cuttings. I wondered would I lift the lawn mower over it, like lifting a buggy up over some steps. I wondered all this while continuing to cut the grass. (Notice I didn’t stop to make a decision…. I continued to cut which was also a decision) And before long I was cutting more than the grass. I cut the garden hose. It was spectacular and very wet (the water pressure here is excellent.)

(Great sprinkler… not so great garden hose)

I changed my clothes and then continued to cut the grass but my heart wasn’t in it. I was imagining how the plants in the greenhouse would die because I couldn’t water them. I’d seen two watering cans in the shed but what if they were the special watering cans used only for weed killer, there might be some weedkiller left in them, I couldn’t use them either. I was very glad of the distraction of a phone call from my friend. In a very unsympathetic tone she asked Why would you cut the grass? I’m going back to my Stop Thinking Start Living book, it’s possible I’ve been thinking too much….

Oh for the simple life, living in the country with some cats and some hens…. oh yea, Mairead.

Who let the hens out?

(The girls)

I woke late this morning because I’d had a very disgruntled feline visitor during the night who needed to get outside urgently (at least that’s what I think he was saying) at 3.45am. It may take me a few more days to understand the routine. I’m out of sync with the hens too, I forgot that they won’t lay eggs unless I leave them in their pen until noon but I let them out at seven yesterday morning. When I arrived here on Monday there was a lovely warm brown egg waiting for me. I know I could have bought eggs in Tesco when I was gathering supplies but the thought that I could be eating my own (well.. not exactly my own..) produce was enough to stop me. Now I want to make pancakes so I’m going to need another egg. I have a feeling that the hens like getting out early so I’ll have to be strong and think of pancakes.

(Are these edible?)

When I did wake this morning the sun was shining – yea! I was beginning to think there would be non-stop rain for my entire visit. Last night I was cold enough to light the stove and grey enough to watch the TV. I’m glad to report that I have not been sucked back to TV-land (was there always so many ads?) in fact I think I might be frightened away from it altogether. Between the (bad) nine o clock news and half a scary story about a con man in America I was feeling very nervous climbing the stairs to bed.

(Is there a con man around that corner?)

Fortunately, I’ve been reading Stop Thinking and Start Living by Richard Carlson so I went to bed and slept. Actually that book is very interesting, it talks about how we are constantly thinking and we don’t even realise it. It’s like we’re listening to a radio station in our head. Unfortunately it’s a station full of bad news and cutting remarks… about me (or you – if it’s in your head!) It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t continue the thought and add to it, with more bad news or meanness towards ourselves. The solution? Notice the thought and let it go. For example, last night I might have had the thought, it’s very scary being here alone when there are so many con men around. So as soon as I realise I’m thinking this I pause and choose to think of something else, something useful to be thinking while I’m alone. Like, I’ll read my nice book about a woman reading her dead friend’s journal! (It’s called The Unfinished Work of Elizabeth D by Nichole Bernier and I’m really enjoying it.) Thinking is very useful but not when it scares and saddens us.

Think something nice about yourself, Mairead.

Horas non numero nisi serenas!

1

(A bit of the sundial and fountain. Sorry, I chopped off the pretty parts…)

In the end we went to Powerscourt House and Gardens. The house for lunch and coffee, the gardens for flowers and graves. One of the other choices was Wexford and we picked well because they got an awful lot of rain in Wexford on Wednesday. We got the sun… and then some shade because it was too bright and then some breeze because it was a bit hot and then some sun because it got a little chilly. I suppose we got everything we needed except rain (which we didn’t need anyway).

2

(The Dolphin Pond)

We began our adventure in the gardens and the leaflet told us that this first section, called the Italian Gardens, was designed in the 1840’s by Daniel Robertson and that it took 100 men over twelve years to complete. Well then… seems like all the best gardens take more time than you might think sensible to complete….

6

(One of the gravestones in the pet’s graveyard)

I looked up Daniel Robertson and I read that he went bankrupt in England and afterwards moved his gardening business to Ireland. The gardens at Killruddery, where we went to the food market, were designed by him also. The latin inscription over the sundial in the Italian Garden, says “Horas non numero nisi serenas“, I do not count the hours unless they are tranquil. Because of his previous difficulties (with the bankruptcy) I thought Daniel’s choice of Latin quote might be significant, maybe an insight into how he coped, but for the life of me I couldn’t make sense of it…. if you were tranquil why would you bother counting the hours at all!

5

(The Pepperpot Tower – built for the children of the house. It was modelled on a pepper pot from Lord Powerscourt’s dining table.)

Turns out (thanks Google!) that this latin inscription is on a fountain in Venice also and the word count can be replaced with rememberI do not remember the non-peaceful hours. In other words I put my attention on the times that I have been at peace, when all was well, I carry the peace from my past with me. If Daniel hadn’t found a way to carry the peace with him we might have been walking through fields yesterday.

Nice work, Daniel. Mairead.

A belief is only an opinion we think is true…

(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…..

(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.

Drama, drama, drama

(Scary ride on Bray seafront)

I went to the post office today. It took three hours. The queues were terrible. A big fight broke out at one point because everyone was so annoyed at the waiting. There was lots of shouting. Then someone started a fire in the waste paper bin and it spread through the building. It was very frightening. And it was all in my imagination…….

(Black crow on blue helicopter)

What actually happened was…. I went to the post office, it took two minutes, there was no queue and then I went to a cafe, had a green tea and a biscuit and read my book. I went to cheer myself up because my imagination has been working overtime today with disaster scenarios.

(Merry-go-round)

Mainly they’re just boring old “poor me” or “you never…” or “you always…” The post office one is more fun and for sure I know it’s not true, because I can go back and see it hasn’t burned down! The other disaster scenarios are more difficult to see for what they are — drama.

(Can you see the crow, it’s still up there)

When your own drama is getting too much for you and you’re starting to believe it…. make up a new one. But make it BIG and give yourself the starring role…. as the baddie! So let me rephrase the post office drama…….

I burned down the post office today. Now I’m in hiding. Please send biscuits. And a coffee. Americano with just a little milk.

Don’t tell anyone, I’m bad, Mairead.