Strangers, enemies, friends, lovers.

Sometimes I wish I had a crystal ball. Uncertainty can be such a difficult thing. It can have a horrible way of allowing fear and negativity in. In reality though, the unknown also has that fabulous flip-side which means that anything unexpected can potentially happen at any time. Happy unexpected surprises ensure life stays alive and make way for tears of appreciation and smiles and butterflies where you never thought they could exist.

In ways we are master of our own fates. Sitting down simply waiting for things to happen never results in progression. If you want something, you have to go out there and get it and keep the determination even when things stand in your way. On the other hand, we have no control over many aspects of life and some of those we just have to accept and try to conquer.

Tomorrow is another day the same as each new day is simply another day but a new year starts tomorrow too. Some things we’ll leave behind us and be thankful for what they brought to our lives or be grateful that we can finally let go of them. And, some things we’ll carry forward with nervous anticipation, wondering where the path will lead and keeping the hope that wonderful things will come of them.  Being thankful and appreciative and open and  being yourself in the best way you can, is all we can do. And too, give smiles and remember how important love is. One thing leads to another and once,we all were strangers.

 Happy New Year*

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It's only words...

The words above of Mr.Rob Ryan. I love his work. He says some really interesting things and his work is very beautiful and sweet and very much absorbed in elements of human emotion and experience. I think he and I share the same sort of mind.
 I don't feel empty inside thankfully. In fact I'm very full up of lots of things. I love writing though. I can't survive properly without putting my thoughts into words. It's not necessarily a therapeutic thing where I feel I'll go a bit crazy if I don't tell people how I feel and release everything that's wildly going on in my mind. It's more that if I have something to say then I don't see the point in not saying it. I could write it all in a private diary if it was for therapy but what I write is to be shared. Now, whether people actually read what I have to say doesn't really matter. The fact is, I've written it and shared it and that's enough for me. If they do read it and think I'm a bit of a fairy, that's fine. One is what one is. And the way I see it, if they loved me in the first place then they'll still love me and if they didn't then it doesn't really matter!
On the topic of me being a fairy- sometimes I toy with the fact that I may not be a human but in fact a changeling. You know one of those creatures that the fairies put into the cot when they steal the human baby. I've been raised a human but I think I have a lot of fairy qualities too. On the other hand, I don't have wings and can only occasionally make magic happen.
Moral of the story: I love words; and though they often stand alone as being beautiful, when strung together, they can become something magic.*Tweet

Just between you and me....

Mostly my problem at this current time is that I can’t concentrate. I’m meant to be doing an assignment. I’m supposed to be researching and writing and concluding about Research Proposals and Philosophies and Methods and I just can’t. I locked myself into my house alone all weekend and got a phenomenal amount of work done for college. I barely heard the sound of my own voice and I ate a lot but I got the work done. Now my momentum has vanished. I’m bored with hypothetical and explanatory writing and instead my mind keeps wandering to thoughts of the real world.

It’s funny. My Mum is the type of person that people come up to in shops or on the street to offload their problems. It may be people she doesn’t know at all or people she barely knows but they seem to want to tell her their woes. Perhaps she has a kind demeanour and a trustworthy face and an aura that radiates her undying selflessness and these people can just sense that she will give them the time of day and genuinely care about what they tell her. I think in some ways I take after her a little bit. I could only strive to be half as great a person as my Mum and I’d be happy, but sometimes people tell me things too. I’m perceptive. I sense things in people and tend to see past the exterior that people like to show. Maybe it’s because I’m not a superficial person and it’s what’s really going on  inside that interests me and attracts me far more than any show people put on. Like my Mum, I’d also always be incredibly respectful though. People reveal what they want to reveal and it’s not my place to make judgements or tell anyone else. I do care however and maybe that comes through too.

At the moment, though I can’t concentrate, I’m fine in my world; but there are others who I know aren’t fine right now. I was involuntarily exposed to their hurting but I was simply an ear who was there at the time and I respect that role. I can’t offer hugs or smiles or even acknowledgement but I still care. And that’s the way it is in this world I suppose. We have to stick to our own present and what our own lives involve but thoughts and prayers for others never go amiss either. Unless you’re like my Mum or me on the odd occasion, we could look at strangers and even people we think we know and never realise what’s really going on.

Doing college assignments and going about our own business is all very well but it’s nice to spare a thought or two for others.  I think it’s good to put as much love out there as we possibly can and maybe sometimes it just keeps floating but maybe sometimes it touches people and helps just a little.*

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Get over yourself!

I just watched an interview with a super 20 year old guy who's going through testicular cancer. Together with his buddies they've already raised €10 000 for Movember. It's an amazing amount of money for a great cause but it's not really about the money. It's about awareness. The interviewer asked if the lads had ever chatted about checking themselves for lumps before their friend's situation and they all laughed. Obviously they hadn't because that would be just weird. And she said that women chat about checking their breasts all the time and that's the difference between boys and girls. I certainly believe that lads aren't great at going to the doctor and taking their health seriously but I think young women are similar in ways. No one wants to think there may be something wrong or go and have themselves intimately examined by a doctor or nurse but for girls, smear tests are vitally important though often avoided.
Sometimes it's not until it personally affects you that these things become important but I really think people should cop on. Get over embarrassment and be responsible for making sure you take the best care of your body as you can. You only get one.*Tweet

A little while or a long while.

A permanent fixture

A filler. In the context of Primary Teaching, a filler is defined as some menial task assigned to children to keep them quiet for a few minutes until you have time to deal with them. There probably isn't any massively beneficial educational aspect to it but it serves a purpose. In quite a different context- the context of relationships, a filler can also be described as a person with whom you spend time during the period where it is not possible to have the person you would rather be with. Again, this filler has very little actual value for you in any kind of an emotional or long-term sense, but once again, they serve a purpose. It may not always be black and white however in the human filler world. Unfortunately people do not always advertise the fact that it is indeed no more than a filler they're looking for and the unassuming victim may get a nasty shock when they realise what they have become. There are times though when there is a choice. In the grand scheme of things,who wants to be a filler? Instead of being a photocopied, uninspiring, chunky-outlined page from a colouring book, I'd much rather be a blank piece of paper with the potential to be adorned and explored and treasured and even possibly stuck up on the wall and kept and admired for a long time.*Tweet

Your place in the world.

The world below me

 I've lived in lots of cities: Kilkenny, Dublin, Limerick, and now Cork. I'm not a city girl. I need space and expanses and air and greenery and beauty in order to happily survive. I always have 'home' to retreat to with the fields and trees and birds and animals and peace, but sometimes my cities lie too far away from home to be accessible whenever I need it. In whichever city I base myself, I need to find my closest escapes; places I can go to when I need to breathe and remove myself from traffic and buildings and crowds and commercialism. Consequently, in my migration around the country, I've come across some very beautiful places that bring me back to being me and make me smile and feel at peace.

 In Cork now, I live at the very top of Patrick's Hill, an incredibly steep hill about 7 minutes walk from the very centre of things. I don't think you can get much higher in the city and my room occupies its own third floor. I'm not in the city, I'm over the city and it's so beautiful to watch. Four distinctly different churches are set into a lower world of terraced houses in all sorts of colours and larger commercial builds, some with shining glass panels. There's no pattern in their position, they lie at all sorts of angles to each other, occasionally separated by little plantations of trees. Beyond the city I can see hills and fields and the most beautiful expanse of blue sky.  I have a real garden with grass and garden furniture and plants and a pretty stone wall. Over the wall is a big park where little dogs and big dogs take full advantage of not having to watch out for traffic. As I write with the window open, there's a gentle hum of traffic interspersed by church bells every now and then and the delicious sweet smell of what I presume is a brewery, is wafting around me with the incoming breeze. I've known this view for less than 24 hours but I think it's one that will intrigue me in its constant changing. I have the convenience of city closeness but a delicious feeling of being removed from it too.

I have escape routes planned for when I need them. Half an hour in the car brings me to incredible coastal places and mountains and all the wilderness I could want but I think this city will do me very nicely.*

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One thing leads to another.

If you're gona make a journey, do it in style.

I thought almost constantly about ‘transition’ for 6 months; what it was, what it meant and how its concept could clearly be expressed in a 3D form. It was the basis for my Degree Show collection. In the end my pieces were a collection which highlighted the importance of focusing on the present moment. They acknowledged the past and future but embraced the beauty of now and living in the moment as so much of what was and what will be is beyond our control. And so, after those 6 months, I had the whole thing sussed. Transition is a natural thing in life so don’t stress or worry about it, just go with it, focus on what’s happening right now and love life. Well, that’s all very well until you suddenly find yourself in the very depths of transition- homeless, jobless and having committed to a college course almost 3 hours drive away from your parents’ house which is the only real place of refuge you have at the moment. “It’ll all work out”. “Something will come up”. So I’m told, and absolutely, one has to keep the faith. I have no doubt that the studying I’m doing is exactly what I should be doing but having said this, it makes it so difficult to see why everything else isn’t falling to place around it. At the end of the day, I’m a happy and healthy young one with plenty of amazing friends and family and so I’ve nothing severe to be fretting about. My problem is, I need to banish that word ‘if’ from my mind. It’s pointless. I can only do what I can do and a massive lump of patience and faith is what I need to summon. I’ve never been one to sit still. Bored and lazy are not words in my vocabulary. I’m not wasting precious life time during my transition and I think that’s all that matters. Just gotta keep putting the love out there and remember that life always has ups and downs…embrace them for what they are. Anyway, life would be so boring if we just hopped from one thing and place to another..we’d miss the eager anticipation of the unknown and all the excitement of the journey.*Tweet

Who you gona call?

“Pass me the ratchet screwdriver,” and obediently you dive into the toolbox, rummaging for something that looks like a screwdriver but clearly has something a bit different going on- the ratchet part-whatever that is. You respond with “just a second!” to give yourself time to make sure the screwdriver with the funny T-shaped handle is the most likely tool there to fit the name. Gritting your teeth you pass it over and wait for a response but there’s none and it seems it’s being used. Smile of relief and an inward pat on the back for getting it right.

The thing is, all is ok if all you have to do is hunt for tools in a box beside you and use your logic and cross your fingers that you can manage to match name to object. What happens when the problem arises and there’s no one else there? When you have to figure out not only what needs to be done  but what tools to use and how to use them? I grew up in a house where if something was broken, my Dad would fix it and if my Dad was too busy my Uncle would fix it and probably from about the age of 12, my brother was pretty capable of fixing pretty much anything too. No electricians, no plumbers, no handy-men, just the boys in the family with their innate ability to see a problem, investigate and do what needed to be done to put it right. There was never any need for me to participate except for being the gofer. I learned the names of the tools and what they did but never used them and I was always perfectly happy to leave it that way. Fixing stuff was for boys. I had way more interesting things to do to occupy myself.

There does come a time however when you have to fend for yourself. I have a multi-tool in my car that has different screwdriver heads and pliers and all sorts of functions. I have been known to google search and use these tools very efficiently on occasion to fix certain issues that have arisen. I also carry a can of WD40 in my car. I love using that whenever possible- such a sense of satisfaction to open a previously squeaky door and not hear a sound! Admittedly however, as a grown woman, I am still perfectly content to let men do the investigating and figuring out and fixing. It’s not that I lack the intelligence or ability to learn how deal with lighting problems or plumbing problems or technology that doesn’t do what I want it to do, it’s just that I would prefer to have someone come sort it for me- someone who naturally understands the way things work and who thrives on making them run as they should. Though I believe that for any person, self-reliance and independence are very important, I think a little part of me is happy to stick to the stereo-typical role of man as the fixer. I’ll happily learn to recognise a ratchet screwdriver and what it does, but don’t ask me to use it!*

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A ratchet screwdriver.

Automatic love

I'm one of those very lucky people in the world that has a Dad; not just a man who happens to be my father but a man who lives up to the ' Daddy ideal' in every way. I'm 28 years old and still call my Dad when I'm in trouble and he helps- just like that- no scolding or harsh words regardless of how I got myself into the situation. He'll just drop everything and save me. I didn't even have to do anything to make him love me, he just did from the very beginning.
He supports me in the decisions I make, asking questions that I don't want to answer or don't know the answers to but lets me be me and I suppose just hopes and prays that it'll all go well because he'll be there for me either way and well is better than the alternative.
I've learned in life that there are very few people you can rely on. In my idealistic view of the world, I get let down by people all the time when they don't treat me as I would expect them to treat me or as I would do them. But then, humans are selfish creatures. I know with absolute certainty however, that as long as he's able, my father will never let me down. I strive so hard in life to make him proud and when I know he is, sometimes it's too much for me. It's a peculiar thing to see somebody so happy and proud because of something I've done and even though it's what I've worked for, I somehow feel undeserving.
I'm so well aware of the huge variations in family situations, where fathers are present or not and happiness and love exists regardless. This is a simple stating of fact that I am a very privileged daughter to have my Dad as my father. I know how lucky I am and I am so appreciative and thankful for what I have. I hope he knows this.*

Tell me a story.....

"Tell me a story," he said and so I proceeded to tell him the story all about how Winne the Pooh got his name- a ridiculous story from the imagination of A.A.Milne; non-sensical and silly. Even though I couldn't see his face and he'd never admit to it, I know he was smiling.
Personally, I love the factual- the interesting things about the world and the way it works; objects or ideas that you had never considered before but suddenly, when exposed, possess an aura of awe. Or the monumental discoveries of things you had always wondered about and never could quite get to the truth of. I definitely believe that there are some people who are content to simply exist in the world; to go about their daily routine and take in their stride whatever life brings their way. They seem not to possess any curiosity or desire to question or explore or discover. Interest, for them, lies in the surface level of what they encounter in their daily lives and goes no deeper. 'Why?' seems to be lacking from their vocabulary. Perhaps there is alot to be said for this way of thinking. Maybe acceptance and contentment come far more easily than to those who wonder.
I love the factual, and I love the fictional. My Mum spent countless hours reading me stories as a child, me, snuggled up, absorbing the characters and the adventures they had, and my Dad spent many more hours telling me stories- worlds and characters of his own invention but equally engaging and charming. Stories make us go deeper; they explore situations and provide answers to what-ifs that never could be found in real life. They create magic from simple words and a happy contentment in their listeners.
Facts entertain, stories entertain; imaginations need to be nurtured and our brains need nourishing with knowledge. Life can be tough or can be great on a daily basis and sometimes daily concerns leave no room or no need for interesting factual stories or ingenious fictional ones. They're always there though, waiting to be heard and waiting to put a smile on someone's face- you just have to incite: 'Tell me a story'.*