Little Chick’s Story

(A perfect seed ball)

Once upon a time there was a little chick who went in search of adventure. She travelled to the sea shore and found a beautiful turtle shell. She put it on and wore it everyday for months. Everyone she met said how lovely she looked and little chick was delighted with the attention.

(I’m heading for…)

But deep inside little chick was tired and weary and fed-up. The shell was heavy and it was hard to see where she was going so she often bumped into things. One day she decided to take it off….. but as soon as she did she felt naked and put it right back on again. Then she sat down to cry, “now what’ll I do?”

(At the Natural History Museum, a pearl from Galway)

As she was crying an old hen who was passing came over to little chick and asked “What’s wrong little chick?” Little chick explained that she didn’t want to be in a shell anymore, but when she took it off she felt naked. “Oh that’s not a problem, let’s go down to the lake and sort this out.”

(Happy orange juice)

So the two birds waddled down to the lake, said a quick “Hi!” to the other animals and found a quiet spot. Then the old hen said “Ok, little chick, look into the water, what do you see?” Little chick looked in and said, “A beautiful turtle shell.”

“Great, now take off the turtle shell and look into the water again.”

(Sailboats off Greystones… rocks)

“No, no I can’t look, I’m naked.” squeaked the little chick. But the old hen insisted and when the little chick looked into the water she couldn’t believe her eyes. In the water she could see a beautiful yellow fluffy chick, powerful in her chickness! She twisted and turned to see herself from every angle and smiling she asked old hen, “How can this be, I’m beautiful?”

(I have no idea what these are?)

Old hen said “You’ve been wearing that old turtle shell for so long it felt like home but it wasn’t. It was covering up a beautiful you. Just because you feel naked doesn’t mean you are naked! Now, off you go and live the life of a beautiful, proud, powerful, smiling little chick!”

And little chick did just that.

Happy Bank Holiday Monday (Ireland), Mairead.

Perfect as you are…..

(The leaves and wine red shoots)

Ok I seem to be drawn to the perfect as you are theme again today, so bear with me…..

We have a plant in a tub in the back garden. Every year in June it sends up shoots and green leaves unfold from these shoots. The shoots are deep wine red and after a few weeks yellow flowers begin to open out from the tips. A few more weeks pass and the flowers die, the the leaves go brown, and eventually the shoots go brown and dry and break off easily. Then there’s nothing left to see in the tub. At this point I usually move it out of the way and forget about it.

(The tip of the shoot about to flower)

This year I haven’t been out in the garden much so it surprised me when I noticed the cycle had begun and the shoots were up and already producing leaves. So I moved the tub back to a place where I could see it unfold beautifully. And it is…. unfolding… beautifully.

(The yellow flowers)

So I was thinking….. is the plant perfect when it’s flowering? Or is it perfect when the shoots are shooting? Or is it perfect just before the flowers unfold? Or is it perfect when it’s dormant and out of the way? And the only answer that comes to me is…. it’s always perfect.

(The shoot with friend)

So….. could it also be true that no matter what stage in the cycle of our lives we are in, (on top of the world, down in the dumps, flowing along, crying our eyes out, laughing our heads off, making loads of money, spending too much, eating too much, having too little, doing too much, doing too little…….) that we are always perfect too?

How would you be if you knew you were perfect? Would you be unfolding as beautifully as the plant in our back garden? Probably!

You are perfect. Now, allow yourself to unfold… beautifully, Mairead.

PS anyone know what the plant is called?

Poor Fred

(Pink geraniums in an old seed box)

We’re all feeling the love for our cat, Fred, at the moment. He’s not well. We brought him to the vet. He has viral gingivitis, which means his mouth hurts…. a lot. When we got home we looked it up on google. He has lots of the symptoms – not eating, irritable, reclusive, drooling, not much fun really…. The vet gave him antibiotics and he’s sleeping peacefully in the armchair as I write.

(Purple flowers)

Our pets have a knack of bringing out the best in us. They are unconditional with their attention and so allow us to trust them. We trust that it’s unlikely they will look for someone prettier, happier, richer than us. They like us just the way we are, and they like our furniture too! So we open up and we love them back.

(Sun flower)

So if they like us just the way we are and they’re bringing out the best in us……. maybe that’s enough? Maybe it’s enough to know we are loveable, just the way we are.

We’ve been pet approved, 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.

Happy Days

(A sail boat off Bray beach)

The de-clutter continues and yesterday I was going through the drawers in the sitting room. Three drawers in particular were lovely. At some point they had become the dumping ground for old birthday cards, mother’s day cards and father’s day cards. The drawers were full and had not been tidied for some time so the cards on the bottom were from ten years ago. Among the beautiful purchased cards, were even more beautiful hand made cards.

(Bray Head)

These hand made cards were created using folded pieces of A4 paper, pencil and crayon. They were made by seven, maybe eight year old hands. The spelling isn’t perfect. The planning isn’t exactly right (words disappear off the page or are squashed together near the edge). They don’t stand up on their own. At first glance they aren’t even attractive. But I’m keeping them!

(The Big Wheel, at the Bray Summer Festival)

Because they are real. The real is perfect, it’s just not plastic perfect. So next time something you create doesn’t turn out exactly perfect, celebrate the real perfect in it. You can even put it in a drawer for later.

You’re real perfect, Mairead.

ps if it’s a cake, don’t bother putting it into a drawer, send it on to me.

You are Here

(Where are we?)

In the cathedral building on the Rock of Cashel, there’s a map of all the buildings on the site. This map is on a stone plinth in the centre of the cathedral. Somewhere on that map there’s a label that says You Are Here. But of course we  all know that’s not exactly true…….. As a child playing in these buildings I used to walk my fingers around the map as if I was walking around the buildings.  But the real me wasn’t in the map, the real me was in the cathedral.

(Do birds have maps?)

There’s a map in my head too. It’s a map of the world around me. I’ve been drawing this map ever since I was born. It helps me find my way around relationships, around work, around society. It’s very useful. It’s also a bit misleading. Especially if I assume everyone else has the same map as mine in their head. The don’t. It also causes me a few problems if I think it’s real.

(Sometimes circumstances make the map incorrect…)

Like the map in the cathedral, the map in my head is just a picture, a representation of the real world. I’m not really in the map in my head, I’m here.

Get out of your head, you’re here, Mairead.

Learning to Swim

(Ellen, who showed me the Living with Beauty swim)

Our nice visitors are gone. We miss them. We do have a pair of shoes they accidentally left behind but it’s just not the same. So maybe it’s not “the clothes that make the man”, or the woman. These people made a big impact on me.

(Jess who showed me the Integrity swim)

Was it their interesting conversation? Or the presents they brought? Or the meals they cooked? Was it the way one of them kept tidying the house? Or was it the chance to be a tourist in Dublin with them? Although I really do like all those things, I don’t think that was it.

(Dan who showed me the Dead Zoo swim)

We had a goldfish for seventeen years. We had to keep getting bigger and bigger goldfish tanks because he got too big for them. One day he jumped out of his tank and landed flapping on the floor. We only realised what had happened when the dog started barking. When we popped him back in the tank, one of his fins was stuck to his body and he swam around in circles for a while….. it was a square tank. Next day he was back to swimming in squares and we bought a lid for the tank.

(Michele who showed me the Let Go swim)

I think I know.

When people have an impact on us it’s like jumping out of our tank. By the time we get back in we realise they’ve shown us another way to swim. In fact many different ways to swim and we can take our pick.

From a very tidy fish tank, Mairead.

ps A goldfish has a tiny memory, so he could be forgiven for going back to his old ways of swimming……

Dublin Rocks

(Pasta (not shown) and salad for dinner)

We went to Dublin today. We have very nice visitors staying with us for a few days. They are so nice that while I’m writing this they are cooking our dinner. Today with them I got to see Dublin from the tourist point of view. As it happens one of the things I wanted to do when I came back from holidays was to go to Dublin and experience it like a tourist. But I put it off….

(Taking pictures in the chemist)

This is what I learned today…..

(Marble (a metamorphic rock) as seen in glass case at Natural History Museum)

It is possible to buy vintage dresses for €10 in a pub off Grafton Street. The slices of carrot cake they sell in Fred Hanna’s book shop are huge. Fred Hanna’s book shop doesn’t sell books, it’s a cafe. The enormous gold ball outside the modern library in Trinity College rotates when you push it.

(Books for sale in the chemist)

You can buy second hand books in the chemist where Leopold Bloom bought lemon soap. You can watch a movie in the National Art Gallery and after watching you will have a greater appreciation for Caravaggio’s The Taking of Christ. Metamorphic rock is any rock that undergoes transformation due to extreme pressure and heat.

(Natural History Museum Dublin)

And it was the rocks that got me thinking…  extreme pressure can sometimes produce a thing of beauty.

Rocks have feelings too, Mairead.

Cups and Saucers

(My mug)

I have a really pretty mug my mother gave me. I liked it so much she bought me the matching tea pot, milk jug and sugar bowl! As I write I see them sitting pretty on the shelf. So pretty that I never use them…. What’s that all about?

(A bit of the tea pot)

About twenty five years ago we got a china tea set, which I also love. It’s still completely intact, six cups, six saucers, six plates and a cake plate, no chips. I can’t see them at the moment because they’re in the back of a cupboard….

I bought a paper-making kit about four years ago. Every now and then I take it out, but I never use it to make paper. Even as I consider the process of making paper I am feeling good and yet the kit remains intact in the craft cupboard.

(The twenty five year old cups)

So I was wondering… are there beautiful parts of ourselves that we never use? That we never bring out of the cupboard to play with?

Come out of the cupboard, Mairead.