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.