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A look in the wrong direction,

A glance that would mark the start.

A stare that is still remembered,

In a blink that could break the heart.

A bond that could never be broken,

A connection to be felt.

A twist of fate that fooled you,

A rapport that once made you melt.

A whisper of words of comfort,

An utter of pain as well.

A declaration of I love you,

but for how long is left unsaid.

A bank of memories to reflect on,

A dozen good and a matching dozen bad.

A vault that is seldom opened,

A safe with no known combination,

Until someone else breaks the code.

 

Picture – Bing Images

Fear.. a small four letter word that takes up so much space in our minds and lives.  Anything that threatens or challenges our survival results in fear in one way or another. Something we haven’t done before, fear of rejection, fear of the unknown, of pain, of loss, of not being good enough or not being accepted, fear of illness, not being financially secure, fear of being alone or left behind. The list is endless. Stepping outside of our comfort zone induces fear more often than not but what comes from that fear on the other side is significant growth. Acknowledgment from ourselves that we can be good enough, that we can and will survive and that although we may be unsure and at times unsteady the worst thing we can do is allow fear to prevent us from growing.

Some of the best decisions I have made so far in life have scared the absolute you know what out of me. They have often been the result of an impulse (but not always) and the lessons I’ve learned from them have come from experiences that I would never change although they were difficult at the time. My first semester in UL I knew nobody. I remember waking up one morning and getting ready to go to college but before leaving I sat on my bed and wondered what the hell was I doing there when all my friends and everything and everyone I was familiar with was in Cork. I doubted if I had done the right thing. I had UCC down as my first choice up until the last minute and changed my CAO to have UL as the top slot based solely on a gut instinct that the course choice would suit me better. UL went onto be one of the best experiences of my life. I met some wonderful people there and some not so wonderful. It opened me up to so many experiences I don’t think I would have had now had I stayed in Cork. I met some really significant people who have taught me a lot.

Another decision drowned in fear was my decision to move to Thailand. When I look back now I know clearly why I made the decision but at the time I was blinded by naivety and the attitude of why not. My flight was from Cork to Bangkok via Amsterdam in April 2012. I was terrified. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the feeling of watching my brother and mom walk out of the departure lounge at 4 in the morning. I spent 6 months of what should have been a 10 month stay there. An absolutely crazy experience is the only way I can sum up that time. Culture shock on so many levels I won’t even begin to try and explain. Lost and found friendships. Extreme highs and extreme lows but again an experience I would never change, not even the bad bits. I came home a broken woman from that one but I’m grateful for every single aspect of it.

Even going to Geneva by myself earlier this year startled me a little. I have done far more risky things and gone much further afield than Switzerland but because I hadn’t travelled alone in a few years I was definitely apprehensive. I thoroughly enjoyed it and it reminded me that sometimes having that little bit of fear is worth it.

Fears I have now are everything from rollercoasters and spiders to loss and loneliness. The latter two make me vulnerable and being vulnerable is scary but regardless I try and overcome those fears with patience. I know that from other past experiences that I was fearful of that something good will come from it, perhaps not all of it will be good but even from those parts there will be another opportunity to learn. So goes the saying of feel the fear and do it anyway.

I trust even my impulses now. I know that I will take something from the experience regardless. Fear or no fear.

 

Image – Bing Images

When we reach a certain point,

we think that’s all there is.

We’ll  be happy when we get there,

when we cross that final bridge.

It seems that we forget,

to see the most important parts.

The time, the effort, the hardship,

the journey from the start.

So when you reach your next milestone,

look back at what you’ve achieved.

You thought that it would break you,

but YOU brought it to it’s knees.

Resilience is a skill we need to practice and to mould

and once you do you’ll learn to handle whatever does unfold.

 

Image – Yahoo images

This time last week myself and two good friends, Íde and Mairéad, were basking in sunshine in a place called Paper town in the heart of the Danish capital, Copenhagen. It resembled an atmosphere similar to the Port of Cork with an industrial type surrounding yet it’s one of the most popular places for Danish to grab a beer and food. There’s an impressive food market inside with everything from Korean and Thai food to Western and obviously Danish food to choose from. It was an afternoon well spent but let me go back to the beginning before I get side tracked again.

Many people asked us, why Copenhagen? It’s not a place you hear too many people going to. The decision to go to Copenhagen stemmed from the girls having thought about going there a few months back but instead opting for Prague coupled with my travel philosophy of why not go there.. so the decision was made and flights were booked in April. Our journey began at 6 am last Thursday morning. We flew from Dublin so left Cork with plenty of time. The two hour flight was a relatively pleasant one and when we landed our first impressions of the city were very positive. We hopped on a 15 minute train from the airport to the heart of Copenhagen and with Mairéad leading the way we reached our hotel which was in a fantastic location.  The room itself was small for three people but comfortable, clean and with complimentary snacks! The staff in the hotel were also extremely helpful and friendly as was almost every Danish person we encountered.

The first evening was low key, tired from traveling, we ate dinner in the hotel restaurant and went for a stroll through the city. The wide open streets and the cleanliness were two things which struck me. There’s a vibrancy to the city yet with a chilled atmosphere. We were already hooked.

Friday morning we ventured out for breakfast followed by a boat trip in Nyhavn. In hindsight, this was a fantastic way to begin exploring as it gave us an idea of the layout of the city and later helped us navigate our way through the streets and various sights. The thing I loved most about Nyhavn was the array of brightly coloured buildings which are lined down the strip of land next to the water. It’s so striking. An unusual wall in the area also caught our eye. This wall had large gaps where it looked as if windows had been removed. In place of the windows were hundreds upon hundreds of bright orange life jackets. Not only was it beautiful to look at but it was one of the many examples of how people in Copenhagen use their buildings in such a diverse way. The balance between contemporary and traditional is definitely something which adds to the charm of the city.

After our boat trip we headed for Rosenberg castle. Only a short walk away, this castle is surrounded by beautiful gardens and although a quick visit for us, it was certainly worth seeing. Onward then to the incredible Tivoli Gardens, a quirky almost antique like amusement park right in the hub of Copenhagen. You could be casually walking down the street only to see giant roller coasters and swings tossing people into the air. Now, for those of you who know me well and know how much I like my feet to be firmly on the ground this was still an incredibly enjoyable experience. The surroundings are nothing short of magnificent. It’s like Alice and Wonderland meets the orient. Lane ways reminiscent of scenes from Harry Potter, food stalls, restaurants, music, rides for young and old and a fantastic stage where concerts are held. I did conquer my fear somewhat by going on one small roller coaster which was deceptively scarier than it looked but Íde and Mairéad went on almost everything. I was very impressed with their nerves of steel or at least their ability to remain calm… but that might have been Íde a little more than Mairéad 🙂

Exhausted from it all we headed back to the hotel that night and got a decent night’s rest. Day two had plenty more adventures waiting for us.

Like many European cities Copenhagen is no stranger to bicycles. There are hundreds of them and seeing as our hotel had them for rent we decided that Saturday we would make like the locals and hop on some bikes. Now bare in mind I haven’t been on a bike in about 14 years let alone in a busy city where people casually cycle on motorways alongside cars, buses, mopeds you name it. First off, I could have done with being slightly taller. My toes just about reached the ground and I was slightly thrown off by the fact that the brake was only on the left hand side. Mairéad again led the way and although we had to take a few pit stops to regroup every now and then we eventually got the hang of the rules of cycling in Copenhagen. There were a few false starts and a little beeping from both cars and bicycles alike but it all added to the hilarity. We ventured to Old Town, eventually managed to lock our bikes and headed to the top of a church which had an amazing view of the city. By the time we had climbed to the top the wind had picked up considerably but nonetheless it was a beautiful view. Afterwards we sat in the grounds as a wedding took place. We admired the laid back, effortless style of both the men and the women. They have the balance between smart and casual down to a fine art and the bride strolled in as if she were heading to the supermarket. The ease of it all was refreshing. From here we walked down the road to Christiana, an area in Copenhagen where things are a little more relaxed shall we say. As we wandered in the direction Íde was approached by a man offering to take a picture but what we soon realised was that he actually wanted my ipad. When Íde politely said no thanks to the offer for the picture his reaction was less than positive. Thankfully, he continued on his way and nothing further came from it. Cue the food market I mentioned at the beginning which was packed with people but easily one of the highlights of the trip.

With only one full day left in Copenhagen we still had plenty of things to see. One of the main things I wanted to do was visit the grounds of Bisbejerg cemetery which was about 20 minutes outside the city centre. I know a cemetery is not something you would normally do as a tourist but those grounds are the home to 2 rows of beautiful blossom trees. It doesn’t sound like much but they really are amazing when in bloom. It took us a while to find them and my heart sank when two Danish people told me I had just missed the right season to see them. It turns out the blossoms only last for a number of weeks but it wasn’t a total disappointment though, we embraced our inner fairy and found a replacement in willow instead of blossoms. Next on the list was a skate park called Superkilen, this was an interesting excursion to say the least. Outside of the fact that we stood out like sore thumbs it allowed us to see a different side of the city. It wasn’t quite what we expected but it was interesting to see a more raw, urban side of the city.

One of the most popular attractions in Copenhagen is The Little Mermaid connected to Hans Christian Anderson. Despite her fame she was the last on our list and to say she nearly finished us off after what was an eventful day was an understatement. Tucked away on the very tip of the city the symbol of Copenhagen didn’t disappoint. Still busy with tourists she sat perched on her rock despite having been through her fair share of travel and distress in recent times. She felt our pain. We bonded. Tired and with the reality that our time in Denmark was ending we headed back to the hotel before heading out for one last dinner.

Our time in Copenhagen was definitely one of the best trips I have had in a while and I think I speak for all of us when I say I would go back in a heart beat. There was so much to do and plenty more we wanted to do too. The variety of shops was great also with a good mix of Danish brands and familiar labels from home. The people exceeded our expectations. The cafés and brunch options were perfect to set us up for our jam packed days and the weather was mainly good. I had been warned that Copenhagen was an expensive city and it wasn’t cheap by any means but no where near as bad as I was expecting or no more than any other capital city. All three of us have come home with fresh eyes, fond memories and all I can say is thank you Copenhagen, you beast…

 

 

 

The gunshot marks the start. The athletes lift their feet making their way towards the finish line. You don’t dare look anywhere else. Your gaze firmly fixed on that point, that destination.

They all start out as equals. No one has any advantage over the other. They’ve all got the same distance to cover. They’ve all trained to make it to that point but some have trained far harder, they’ve had to.

A few metres down the track the first one falls. As he tumbles all he can see are his competitors slipping into the distance towards the finish line. In that second he has to make a decision, accept defeat or continue despite this obstacle. He chose the latter.

As he gradually picked up pace another competitor loses sight of the finish line. Her focus dropped and her pace dwindled. She fought and fought to catch up but her body wouldn’t allow it.

By now the ones who’d had the ideal race had crossed the line. That line that deemed them more successful. No hurdles, no loss of concentration, no falls just start to finish.

Had the race been a relay they all would’ve had to shoulder the consequence of the fall but it wasn’t. It was a sprint to the finish line.

 

Sometimes I find myself sitting in front of a blank screen with no idea of what I want to write. Today is one such day. Although I love writing and it’s something which rarely, if ever, fails to make me feel better it can be an effort at times to make myself write. The wiser part of me challenges the part that wants to wallow and places me in front of the blank page or screen and I just type whatever comes out. Even after those few short lines I can feel my sense of self reignite.

Yesterday I picked up a guitar for the first time in well over 15 years and attempted to play. My fingers were sore from relearning the chords but before long I seemed to find somewhat of a decent rhythm. I played guitar and piano for a while between the ages of ten to thirteen but gave up. What I intended to be a few minutes of becoming familiar with the guitar again turned into almost 2 hours of playing the same chords over and over relishing the fact that somehow what I learned hadn’t completely gone. I became lost in it. It was the most therapeutic thing. Maybe because I was focusing so intently all my other thoughts and concerns seemed to just stop.

It made me eager to really play again, properly. Music is something which can be incredibly powerful as are all creative outlets. While writing will continue to be my main focus I think guitar may start to creep back in one chord at a time.

Alcohol, the cause of and solution to all of life’s problems. A suitable quote there from Homer Simpson. The relationship Irish people have with alcohol is a warped one and is no secret. We are forever referred to as the “drunken Irish” and more often than not we are well able to live up to that expectation. The centre of the Irish social scene is alcohol, it doesn’t even really matter what the context is. Whether it’s a birthday, a christening, a funeral, an anniversary or just a Friday night we associate alcohol with relaxing, with enjoyment and with socialising and the reality of that changing seems very far off.

Recently, I stopped drinking alcohol. Unlike in my early twenties when going out and getting drunk as quickly and as cheaply as possible was key, that is no longer a priority. My desire for alcohol has lessened considerably since the age of about 26 and certainly from 27 onward. So, the big question. Why? Why are you not drinking? The shock and horrified expressions on people’s face is enough to make you feel like you’re committing some kind of social sin. I’m no longer drinking alcohol because of my migraine. At the moment I’m on medication for it and that takes precedent. That started four months ago and truth be told I don’t even miss it. We seem to have a psychological attachment to alcohol and that if we’re not consuming it then we won’t be able to enjoy ourselves. I won’t lie and say that the first few times I went out and didn’t drink weren’t strange because it was an adjustment. You do feel a little out of sorts when the majority of people around you are drinking but now, I don’t find it that much of an issue at all. Non – alcoholic beer and mocktails offer a nice alternative that mean you don’t have to compromise on alcohol intake but you can still “fit in” for lack of a better description.

What annoys me most about the situation is that whatever people’s reasons are for not drinking, be that anti – biotics, financial, generally having an unhealthy relationship with alcohol or just not wanting to deal with the hangovers, it is just that, THEIR reason  and I don’t feel that the rest of us should need to know every detail. It can be uncomfortable for someone to have to justify their choice on something that really shouldn’t be any kind of an issue. At times even when you have explained your reason it doesn’t seem to be adequate. “So what if you’re on anti – biotics that just means a cheaper night out” has been one response that I’ve heard on numerous occasions.

When I do come off the medication for my migraine, will I make a swift return to drinking? Honestly, I don’t think that I will. I don’t miss the hangovers or the impact alcohol has on my body and mind nor do I miss the gaping hole in my bank balance so why bother? I think because we drink so extensively in our teens and early twenties in Ireland we almost don’t realise that we are capable of socialising without it and once you overcome that barrier, it really isn’t that big of a deal. Of course I might have a drink here and there but I think I can honestly say that my nights of heavy drinking will be staying with me only in my memory, or lack of memory probably in some cases.

 

Image – Yahoo Images

Looking at the wine Audi you just got parked outside the door knowing you wouldn’t drive it again.

Seeing your bus being driven by someone else around Cork.

The oil that seemed permanently stained to the creases in your fingers.

The time you saw me qualifying for Mosney in athletics at the Community Games but I was excited when I saw you and I just missed my start.

How you rubbed your hands and yawned when you came downstairs in the morning at weekends.

How you drank your tea black and only had Rice Krispies with boiling hot milk.

How you refused to admit that we were lost on holidays in Jersey.

Walking the greyhounds with you.

Watching you watching us decorate the Christmas tree days before you went.

The way you always popped your head around the door before I fell asleep just to say good night.

Sitting at the front of your bus pretending I was driving it making a vroom noise for the entire time of the drive.

When I helped you varnish the garage door and spilled varnish on my new top and you knew Mom wouldn’t be impressed 🙂

Sneaking down to the shop at the greyhound track to buy the present you never got to open.

The night we walked around the village and I told you I knew Santa wasn’t real 🙂

You helping me learn how to write the number 3.

Teaching me to cycle my bike without stabilisers in the back garden.

When I came third in the national writing competition and ringing you at work to tell you.

When you drove me and my friends to the cinema for my 12th birthday, the last one you ever saw me celebrate.

Friday Night sweets…

 

 

 

 

 

Perfume
There was something lingering in the air between them. Unspoken words, concerns they couldn’t bring themselves to share, fears they should have been able to communicate to each other but couldn’t. They had been in the room for almost two hours without so much as a glance to the others’ eyes, knowing that once they made contact they would have to think about it, have to respond. So, they didn’t. They sat in complete silence, one staring out the narrow window in the corner, the other at the ceiling examining each line and crack as if it were a work of art in the Vatican. A small burned out match lay on the window sill from the last time they shared the room together. The smell of her perfume tangled with the faintest of smoke. That combination was ethched into his mind. Startling him from his memories, there was a knock on the door. They were forced to leave their comfortable silence. He reached for her hand unsure of what response he would get. She wanted to hold on but she paused and walked out ahead of him. Once, she had willed him to reach for her hand but not now. There had been too many conversations left unfinished. He turned back and looked at the burned out match. How could something so small represent something so significant he wondered. Hesitantly, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and left the room all the while knowing that although he could walk out of there, he would never be able to forget what happened there.

via Daily Prompt: Perfume

Never mind the Easter Bunny, let’s have a look at the Easter Hypocrite. I’m sure there are many of us out there but I’m going to take myself as the prime example. Like most traditional Irish upbringings I was raised as a Catholic. I was baptised, I made my Holy Communion aged 7 and my Confirmation at age 12. In those years, you’re pretty much going through the motions of school and following the norms of society but it isn’t until you get a little older that you question the reasons and methods behind such an institution. I don’t think any of us need reminding of the recent findings from the mother and baby homes and I dread to think what other cruel truths are still to be revealed but with this, and many other scandals in it’s history, there is no denying that the Catholic Church, in Ireland at least, has done some irreparable damage.

So, as Easter is upon us I couldn’t help but look at myself and think that although I have little time for the Catholic Church, I am more than willing to take advantage of the perks of Easter. I can’t remember the last time I gave up something for lent and this year is no exception. I ate meat on Good Friday, in fact it didn’t even cross my mind if I’m honest. Furthermore, I didn’t attend any Easter ceremonies this year either. I again remember my school days where this week was filled with religious events  but now it’s just not the case. To top it all off I even tucked into an Easter egg on Thursday evening to celebrate the blissful four day weekend that lay ahead of me. There it is right there, I am more than happy to take my 2 days off work to “celebrate” Easter. I am more than happy to eat my Easter eggs too, although I did hear recently that they can no longer be referred to as Easter eggs, but that’s another story. It’s in these points that I find myself being stuck in a grey area. I had intended on going to mass last night and when it came to it, I just didn’t. At least at Christmas I go to mass, possibly one tradition I will continue but it’s more for the amazing choir in Blarney and the atmosphere in the village on Christmas Eve.

In spite of all this, I still find myself in situations where I will fall back on prayer if I’m worried about something or feel like I’m no longer in control. In saying that, when I do pray it’s more talk to than listing out Hail Mary’s. It used to be when I was a child but now it has evolved to just speaking to loved ones lost. Even then there is doubt speckled through my one way conversations because we don’t know what happens after this. I do believe in something, but I don’t know what that something is. I do have some faith.. but it certainly is not in the Catholic Church. I’ll leave it on that note and continue on with Easter Sunday despite the fact that for those lost in the grey area…it’s just another Sunday?

 

Image – Yahoo images.com