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.