Buying books

I took wednesday morning last off work. And strolled into town. And stopped by the Carmelite book-shop. And came away with a bundle of books. Including the Catechism, The Way (bible), a book of prayers published by RTÉ and some novels. I'd like to think my book-shelf could be a source of religious texts and intend to get a copy of the Quran.
But I suppose I should read them too! Or dip into them frequently.

Nuala Ó Faoláin RIP

This follows on from a previous post...

the report says she "died peacefully".

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a h-anam

I've been reminded... & BloggerPlay

... of the important things in life. The things that matter. I haven't posted in so long because I've been busy. Working too hard. Spending my hours sitting in an office. During the summer, it was quiet and I was watching my clock slowly add up to 7 hours a day. And suddenly it became very busy and what with all the other wee projects and ideas I had taking up space in my head - I was overcome and found myself having to retire to bed for five days and call in to work sick. I'm still not energised enough to contemplate a day's work.

But to my sick bed came friends and family. Making lunch for me and letting me boss them around. And we had time to sit together. And to talk. And share jokes and ideas and thoughts. And it's so important.

I used to work part-time but got a notion in my head that I might like to buy a property... or rent in a better part of the city... and so I took on a full time job (in a role that isn't my ideal job). All for money, more or less. When I worked part-time, my afternoons were my own. I was more flexible to make arrangements to meet friends with hectic schedules. I was relaxed and experienced a counter side to life. I really enjoyed that time. I'm sorry it's not the way I'm living currently. I'm going to look into changing back to that lifestyle.

But apart from that realisation, another episode occured just now. I logged on to BloggerPlay. It's a slideshow of the pictures as people are posting on to blogger. Some pics are of groups of people. Some are of landscapes, great scenery. There are sunsets, mountains. People post pics of things they are interested in; that help describe their post I suppose - an idea they have about a painting they saw, perhaps. There was a picture of a house under construction. It is these type of events that life is about.

I know there is the other side of life. The drudgery. The tedium. The plodding along the path which you hope will arrive at your ambitious place. Not all jobs can be challenging, fun; at least not all the time. But I think I need to strive higher than putting up with where I am.

Through this illness and watching other people's pics float by on my screen, I have been reminded that it is of utmost important to pause and question what we're doing with our lives now and again - that at least, even if nothing changes.

Bobby McFerrin

National Concert Hall in Dublin last night - Bobby McFerrin. Recommended to me by a fellow chorister who said he got the entire auditorium singing Gounod's Ave Maria the last time he was in Dublin.

Robbie, a bodhrán player, and Liam Ó Maonlaí performed with him on stage as well as a dancer from the audience and a mini random choir of people. Liam was well able for him - like an Irish version of Bobby! with his diddle-ee-i-dee-dum-do-dorum.

When he came back for an encore, Bobby suggested we could ask him questions. It was fun but the one that hit home for me, and it was asked jokingly and answered earnestly - "What is the meaning of life". The answer Mr McFerrin gave: "To find God. Well, that's the goal, the meaning... life is the journey, it's about getting there. It's a step away, a small step". I'm paraphrasing, obviously I didn't record him. But that's what I got out of what he said.

It was beautiful at the concert. I was very tearful and tired and pressurised just before it, I might have cancelled but during and afterwards I felt fantastic, relaxed, at peace with the good things and the good people and the fun of life. And music, singing, which I love.

He seemed a very gentle, humble, generous man.

The lights were dimmed in the concert hall, it was very atmospheric. Maybe we should do that for the Messiah performances this Christmas...

Nuala Ó Faoláin

Amazing interview on Marian Finucane's saturday morning show with Nuala Ó Faoláin this morning. She was diagnosed with cancer about 6 weeks ago. She is 67 or so.
Her outlook could be referred to perhaps as "bleak". She has little that she feels excites her and she really doesn't know what it was all about; what life is all about. She mentioned that we need to inquire (I can't remember the word she used exactly). She spoke about the stuff she's accumulated, the curtains in her room in New York, for example but also the knowledge, information, ideas she's accumulated and that it will all be gone.

Her despair, she was clear in pointing out, is her despair and no one else's.

And at the end, Marian asked "And I don't know if you can give people advice from your experience?" to which Nuala responded a breathy "no". And that is marvellous. Often the idea of self-help authors grates on me - why do they think their way of doing things is of interest to others? To me, life is about figuring it out and knowing yourself and what works, what doesn't, what might, what could... but the lessons learnt are yours for you. Humility is most important and to be admired.

In the programme, Nuala did what she set out - she provided the other book-end to match the book-end that is her memoir. She deserves the death she hopes for. Since my granny and grandad's deaths, sometimes I am comforted by the thought that maybe we do have a little control at least over our own death. May death for Nuala not come too fast and may she re-discover nature and books and being light-hearted before she lets the darkness take her. She did mention food, friends and music as things which have given her pleasure recently.

Arvo Part

Was at concert sung by the Mornington Singers in the Pro-cathedral tonight. They sang beautifully: Martin, Kreek, Tavener, Part, Harris, Elgar (arr. by Cameron) and Ní Dhubhghaill.

But mostly I was blown away by Part. And reminded of the concert of his in the National Concert Hall in February. It was 'spiritual' for want of a better word.

His music keeps going; I wondered how he would stop, how the piece would reach a conclusion, and somehow it always did and I hardly noticed in the end how the end happened and yet it worked perfectly.

He came out on stage after the perfomance. A most modest, meek and yet very present man. Really lovely.

Cillín

Bro and I went out to Dalkey and strolled to the seafront at Coliemore harbour. There's a view out to Dalkey island - see picture taken just as dusk was falling. The builing standing up on the island is the Martello tower, but this posting is about the little church or cillín which is about situated about the middle of the island in this picture.
As a result of the visit, I had a chat with my uncle who is a historian of those times - what the idea of the small little church was. Who went in? Was mass held in it etc.
So he painted a very interesting picture. The monk or priest reading the mass was inside, along with the rich or the gentry who would be invited and the rest of the congregation stood outside on the "faiche". Sometimes the area outside the wee church would be covered in gravel.
It gave me a whole other view of faith and religion. Apart from the fact that the mass was probably in Latin and therefore not understood by the congregation - they couldn't even hear it. They were standing around outside, possibly in rain and wind, trusting whatever was going on inside. That was in the days before microphones, printing of mass leaflets and all those devices for involving the people.

more about Mamó

This almost continues on from the last post. I popped into a church recently while house hunting in the countryside. I shocked myself by addressing my prayer to Mamó. Not God but Mamó. She was the first person that popped into my mind in the church. And it wasn't the first time this has happened. It's too early yet whether to say that she answered my prayer but suffice to say that the next house we viewed looks very promising and needs following up.
In a dear diary entry, I must own up to a very poor performance with morning prayers/meditation. There's a spare mattress on the floor in my room which is getting in the way of the lotus chair - is that a valid excuse?! I know it's not.
Another recent event was the singing of the choir's annual mass. Most of the mass was read in Latin.

I will never forget you

My granny (mam's mam) gave me this picture - if that's the right name for it - I think she gave it to me at first communion time. She was a very Catholic woman, she went to mass every day. She had great faith and no doubt was shocked by her grand-daughter's inability to say the Angelus or the Rosary or even the Lord's Prayer (though I did know it in Irish and remember teaching it to myself in English as I lay in the spare bed next to her one night).
I always think of Mamó Má Nuad at Easter time especially. She always provided us with yellow paper napkins for the dinner table!
I miss her, and would love to have her around now to talk to her about my doubts and my efforts at all this finding God business. She very much tried to help me in this way and, perhaps as a last ditch attempt, would remind me that I always had a guardian angel with me - they would mind me and look out for me and I could ask them to help me. I think she told me to name my guardian angel because I remember trying out different names but don't recall if I decided on one.
My granny was an extremely intelligent woman but I wonder now if she explored other faiths. I don't think she blindly followed Catholicism, I am sure she questioned it and yet it must have provided her with the answers she required.
I don't really like displaying pictures and objects - the little thing shown here hangs in my room in my parents house, I haven't brought it with me. I don't have pictures of friends or family adorning my walls. I think this can be showmanship and that it's more important to hold these things in one's heart and not display them to others where they could be misunderstood. And so I think I've decided not to post a picture of Mamó here.

Different Views

I'm in my parents house for Easter, it's almost better than a library. As I'm on this mini quest I've been scouring the bookshelves for holy books. I avoided taking a look at the bible this time around.
Véarsaí Roghnaithe as an Quran Beannaithe (Chosen verses from the Holy Quran)
My first reading of the Quran or understanding of the way it is The Book and that it should be read by all. I like the lack of emphasis placed on Jesus, Mohammed and other prophets - the focus is on Allah. I think I'll be doing more reading of the Quran, in Irish or English - my Arabic wouldn't be up to it.
We had a dinner-table discussion about religions based on books, and whether some anthropologists are right in concluding that religions were founded as societys answer to "what to do with dead people".
Dánta Dé (Poems for God)
This is a beautiful book that a neighbour passed on to us. Published in 1928. The poems or prayers are set to music. They are laid out thematically eg. Morning and Evening, Easter, The Feast of St. Brigid and so on. I lool forward to taking out my violin and tackling the melodies. The Irish is written in the old script so it's a little tricky and even the wording is a little beyond me but it struck me that morning prayer could be more pleasant (for me) if it were sung.
The Holy Ghost Hymnal
My Aunt's name is on this little book, it seems to have been a schoolbook. The hymns are in Irish, English and Latin with the music provided.
Zen Seeing, Zen Drawing
The subtitle for this book is "Meditation in Action". I recently bought myself a new diary, the one I've been using for the past few years is finally full. I stood at the shelf in the stationery shop debating with myself why I used to choose diaries and notebooks with a spiral spine, it was beacuse I used to sketch and found it more comfortable to be able to fold over the pages, but I concluded that I haven't sketched in a long time and so there was no need for the spiral binding and I bought a more typical diary. And now, upon discovering this book and reading how drawing things really help to see them, and remembering how much I enjoyed sketching - I'm regretting my choice of new diary...! I haven't read much of this book yet but the core idea is undebatable.

Aoine an Chéasta

Good Friday - I went with my uncle and Godfather to Bolton Abbey for the 3pm services. I was expecting singing monks, though I'd been there before a few years ago and should have remembered there was no singing in Latin.
I couldn't get my head around the Christ thing. I'm very taken with the idea of God and am certainly trying to "find" Him and make room for a spiritual or religious or greater force in my life and lifestyle. But the adoration of a man was too much. It is claimed he is the son of God, an ordinary person living an ordinary life, sent on earth to redeem all humans. I couldn't take it in. I didn't like the idea even though I've been raised with it.
The sermon spoke of forgiveness which, my uncle had earlier claimed when we spoke in the car, is, in his mind, a central idea of Christianity.

What do I want?

It struck me last night in bed that it might have been helpful to have been praying and talking to God recently, it might have helped me with something I've been through. I've come out at the other end thinking: And now I just have to figure out what I want again - I hate that. I had been hoping that someone else would make a decision for me. Of course I wouldn't go along with it unless I was happy too but at least I wouldn't have to figure out what I wanted - it seems selfish to me to be doing that. BUT if you turn the idea on it's head and say it's God... that you are living your life according to His will then that gives you the avenue to be checking in with yourself and following the path which feels most comfortable to you, without the connotations of feeling selfish.

Godmother in waiting

Just before Christmas, I was privileged to be asked by my friend and her boyfriend to be Godmother to their baby. On Valentine's day, the little bundle of joy arrived in the world.

I finally saw her when she was 10 days old. I stayed staring at her lying in the cot, so peaceful. The next day I felt extremely calm and relaxed. It was a beautiful experience. She is so tiny.

There is no date set for the baptism yet but I am preparing myself! My first gift to the baby was her astrological chart but on the same day I bought a book of prayers for myself: Power Prayers to start the day. It's a little bit American-ised for my liking. But I have sat down on a good few mornings since I bought it and read a prayer and thought about it. I'm readying myself!

A life-changing event, if not for me in a huge way, certainly for her very proud parents.

Physical activity as relief for the soul

Hillwalking today. Hiked to the peaks of 5 hills in Dublin/Wicklow Mountains! (Never sure whether to call the bumps in Ireland hills or mountains). My friend said, as we trudged through heather on our way between two peaks, surrounded by marvellous views: "It's good for the soul". And it was: great for the soul!

There were some things on my mind which I had planned on bringing with me on the walk and thinking them through but I didn't, it was too much like work, instead I just walked, followed my feet, admired the surroundings, breathed the air and it was more than all I needed! Too much time can be spent on thoughts, paying attention to ideas, to the mind.

I was in a sauna last weekend and it was peaceful, I tried to meditate. And, similarly to today, decided it was unnecessary. Just being in the sauna, experiencing something physical, was a change in attitude or a change in scenario and sufficient, I think, the alter the mind state - without trying to.

I'm not sure about the title of this post, but I think it's explained by quoting my friend's phrase and by not looking at it too deeply!

Lots of bits & pieces: Life's purpose and other wonderings

Various things happened today.

• I got the chance to read a fair bit: Pages 72-78 of JW's Lapsed Agnostic worth re-reading - finally he is getting to the nub of the issue and not discussing The Peter Pan Factor.
  I visited the Quaker musem in Kilkenny/Kildare county and became curious about the nature of that religion and the necessity of a simple life or even the possibilty of going without [certain things].
  
• Also in the library attached to the museum i picked up a copy of the kildare county sustainable magazine. I had hoped the magazine might contain some info about alternatively-living sustainable communities (ie those not relying on salaries and jobs involving long commutes to cities and cheap rents in suburbs of rural towns); I read something about this in a sourcebook I bought in the amnesty international bookshop a few years ago and have found no information about since - communities in ireland that barter etc... but this mag was a waste of time.
• On the way home, I stopped by a friend's house (it's soooo important to meet people you get on with and understand you and you understand them. meet them regularly. v important.)
• Heath Ledger died last night. I've never been a one for idols or people I admire yet for some reason I respected him. A good actor and oh so good-looking. And now he has died, cause unknown. Owen Wilson's apparent break-down was confusing as well. The idea of celebrity is confusing.
• My uncle, with whom I was travelling through the country, blessed himself as he passed by a church (it happens less now with the bypasses) - that too was a notion to get my head around.
• Also had coffee in a coffee-shop in Kilkenny. Was very much looking forward to it. Coffee at 11 o'clock on a weekday is something I rarely do since I got a full-time job. But the coffee shop was crowded. Who are these people who can sit around and engage with each other, who don't need to be in an office earning shekels to pay for things? And outside sat a fully-robed monk, with sandals and a pocket containing the wallet he would use to pay for his scone and coffee - I mock unfairly - he was conversing with a friend and was joined by another female friend and greeted warmly by a female passerby, they were discussing a great poet when I eavesdropped. These, I feel, are the important things in life: having time for coffee breaks and conversing with friends about ideas that matter to you at the time.
  The least we can do as humans with our time on earth is try to gain an understanding of ourselves and to take responsiblity for ourselves within our picture of humanity.
• I listened to an interview with Marian Finucane a saturday or two ago (she was speaking to a psychotherapist, can't remember his name); the interviewee claimed it's important to read books, I suppose to keep the intellect alive and keep excited by the thoughts and ideas of others in the human race.
• We visited a CoI cathedral in Leighlinstown called St. Lazarian's, the name fascinated me, unfortunately we couldn't enter the church but we wandered around the graveyard.

[couldn't find pic for this post!]

Still reading "Lapsed Agnostic"...slowly

Still reading "Lapsed Agnostic"; have to get through a lot of John Water's writings and ponderings about Ireland in the times of various generations. Which is interesting, but not yet giving me great insight into what kind of God he now has in his life or how he "uses" him etc. Though I suppose all this is necessary background. So I'm trudging through it. It's heavy stuff and I don't have lots of time so I'm only reading a few pages at a time.
Was too warm and cosy in bed last night to kneel and give thanks and was too warm and cosy in bed this morning to get up on time to do a yoga posture to start the day. Oh dear, what'll I do with me? I did notice, however, last night, that it's quite difficult to bring to mind the good things from the day while in a sleeping position!
But at least little ol' lazy me has found time for this update.

Choir Rehearsal

I sing with a choir. There was rehearsal tonight. We're called Our Lady's Choral Society. So we have a pretty holy name to start with! (Though they tend to use OLCS of late). And the archbishop is our patron or some such so we're a Catholic choir. Though one of my best friends in the choir ain't a Catholic and they let her in and she enjoys it.
I find choir is my mass. I don't attend mass any more, not even at Christmas so choir is my weekly ritual, my time for concentrating on just the one task for almost two hours and it happens to be Christian. We sing Requiems and Stabat Maters and such from the big composers - Mozart, Dvorak etc. Religious-themed stuff. We often have a Thought for The Day at the end, though it can be a bit cheesy or the reader tries to be funny so it doesn't always work. I feel humbled by the other people there, many are so lovely and kind and open and honest and all manner of good things. And the marvellous thing that everyone else is as or more serious about it than I am.
So, to summarise the elements of choir which are mass-like for me, in the best sense:

• the routine of going
• the ritual of what happens
• the theme or the content
• the other people there
• the conductor - who guides the ceremony! (I'm sure PO'D would love to be aligned with the role of a priest...)
• audience participation
• paying attention / not falling asleep during the boring bits

"Lapsed Agnostic"

Started reading "Lapsed Agnostic". Read up to the end of the paragraph at the top of page 8. It was enough. It is so well written. I think the spacing of the type is tight, maybe single and so there is a lot of text on the page. [My writing about what is in the book is very much my own interpretation or how I understood the ideas as I was reading them, perhaps if I were to read them again or in a different mood I would see them differently.]
He talks about a Catholic upbringing. Discusses the idea of being inactive = being a less Good Man.
God being all-seeing and playing with us, rewarding us or punishing us more or less as he saw fit but under the pretence of us being good or not. And more, but I think I've done well for day one. I'm tired now and must make time to give thanks between switching off the computer and falling into bed.

Day One

I begin this blog without knowing where, if anywhere, it - and I - will end up. Blogging has worked for me with another subject as a focuspoint and a channel for my thoughts. It involves the discipline of being at a computer and logging onto a particular page. I'm trying to understand the difference between that and the discipline of keeping a hand-written diary. Maybe it's simply that I've grown more accustomed to typing than handwriting and I like to be able to copy, paste, move thoughts and add images etc. That having been said, most of this post was written in a notebook on a train platform this morning as I gathered my thoughts while waiting 12 mins for the next train.
I wasn't looking forward to reading Róisín Ingle's column in this weekend's Irish Times mag. I was afraid she might be going on about New Year's resolutions. She wrote about epiphanies and her friend who was hosting an Epiphany Party. And that brings me on to what may have been an epiphany for me (I think we can only be sure of these things with hindsight!) - I was listening to an interview with John Waters on, as it happens, the repeat of Róisín Ingle's saturday morning show on Newstalk. They were discussing his new book "A Lapsed Agnostic" and that's #1 on my to-do list this morning, to ring the bookshop near work and hopefully ask them to reserve a copy for me til I can go to collect it.
After John's chat about the role of praying or giving thanks and the importance of going down on your knees (if you find this difficult to do, the AA say, throw a shoe under the bed and by retrieving it, you will find yourself on your knees). I got up out of my warm bed and it was after midnight and I'm exhausted these days and I got down on my knees, I did a sign of the cross and scanned through the day, a practice I am used to from listening to Yoga meditation CD's before falling off to sleep - but instead of "integrating" the day and "finding moments of happiness", I simply gave thanks. And found I had much to be thankful for, as it happened.

And this morning when I woke, I formed the "child pose" in yoga. I find this position very uncomfortable. I'm not used to it. I breathed and tried to focus on something other than the discomfort. Felt nicely stretched after it. Thought it would be nice to have a special rug or something on the ground to do this on, like the Muslims I suppose. I think the physical position is important to align your mind to a specific task, like preparing for the day or preparing for day's end.
John Waters spoke of the importance of having a God in your life, to take the blame; it's not your doing. He told a story of watching over his baby daughter (another Róisín!) and feeling he had to keep her alive til morning, followed by the realisation that hey, he didn't even keep himself alive til morning. This idea - that it is not just down to us/ to the individual - is a weight off my shoulders! God isn't punishing or rewarding us (as I think I was taught in school as a Catholic) rather he is there. Something happened to me almost four years ago and I've been told it wasn't my fault, I wasn't responsible. I find it hard to believe that if we can control our lives, make decisions etc then how come I wasn't in charge of what happened me, I could have done things differently and had a different outcome. Which is rough! And so, the notion that there is another presence with me or choosing a way for me, is comforting. Watch this space. We'll see if last night turns out to be epiphanic. If that is a word.