A Time to Dance

Lat May I sat at the trusty – though somewhat battered by the three-year-old fella – kitchen table to write about a time to grow. Well, talk about an understatement. Where do I start?

Leaving the comfort of my well-worn battle ground of bogs and trying to get them restored was a moment filled with mixed emotion. Was I overly institutionalised? Was I too specialist? Was I too brow-beaten by the winds in the business world where nature came at the bottom of a sad and pitiful pecking order? At the National Biodiversity Conference last year I listened with great intent to eve

Red sky at night - flying over the Irish Sea,
looking back towards the west (Oct 2019).  

ry word of our inspirational flame-bearer – President Higgins. I’m not ashamed to admit that I near wept the whole way through his speech. Whether he wrote it or not, his delivery and his spoken words of camaraderie, respect and understanding for us ‘weary in the trenches folk’ hit me right in the core. I know I wasn’t alone. Sometimes we don’t know if we can go on.

With all these questions in my head, I walked on. I followed my gut and stepped off a corporate motorway onto a rugged path, with a well self-enforced speed limit, that I had never been on before. Scared? – does a duck quack? Excited? Levels were off the Richter scale, or that was nausea??? Free? As a bird. Think - off the north coast of Erris and an un-limited blue sky stretching over the horizon. Think John Lennon Free as a Bird. 

Six months later, how I have grown! Not physically (though I have spent a lot of time on my ass sitting and reading). More like - grown back into my curious, wonder and awe skin, back onto new neural pathways in my head, wriggled out of narrowing avenues and out into the limitless space of possibility. And how is that, says you? Well, I’ve had the time to read (part of the job - what a gift!). And it was science, journals, economics, philosophy, and the crossover of nature and business. Grasping nettles and taking the sting out them with understanding. Still plenty of nettles out there, takes time.

I’ve met some awesome people on this path – there are serious (wow) warriors out there armed with knowledge and understanding, and passion and fire for nature and people, together. Even to brush-off the energy of that fire feeds my own and brings to me great hope where I was probably a bit wanting. Maybe even more importantly, I got to spend more time with the hardy warriors I knew before but never really got to spend time with – you know who you are. Both these close encounters with awesome warriors have helped to rebuild – restore? – my own source of fire, to keep me in the dance. Nature’s worth dancing for, though in my heart of hearts - this I know - nature dances us.

Am I still scared? Yeah, who isn’t a bit scared if they are honest. Life is uncertain, but I have today. And tomorrow will be a gift. Am I excited? Even more than I thought I could be. The future needs us all to work together, from every millimetre of this intricate web. Not one more important than the other, though some can bear a more powerful blow to get us on the right course. And plenty of heavy lifting for us all to do, so hang in there. 

Free? Still flying, high. 

A year in the Holly Cottage

The summer solstice is upon us and what better day to begin to tell of our year in the Holly Cottage. That it has been a year since I last pressed the publish button here on this blogosphere - or just a couple of weeks shy of - is a sobering thought. Sobering because I am keenly aware that so much has passed and come and gone, and yet it might seem as if nothing has changed at all. We are the same - aren't we? Maybe just a bit. The world is the same? Definitely not. Change is our only constant. And the heart? Oh dear! Battered and bruised beyond belief in the past year but somehow still beating and stepping up, ready to take on another year's random symphonies of being. 

"The only way is through" said Holly to Alannah, as they both passed through the fairy door.

Every day we wake, we rise, we greet the new day and welcome a new beginning. When the night comes we acknowledge day's passing and we give thanks for the life we have had and the adventure that it did/might/could bring. And that day passes, never to return again - save of course for in that imaginative space where it becomes altered in movie like memory that accentuates some, colours others and chops entire pieces on the editing floor to suit the playback mode and desired effect. New day comes with the morning, dying day gives life to the next and so on and so forth. Only the present remains true and real, the past fantastically edited and the future existing only to be fantasised. 

So I will try not to trawl too much over the past year to detail every moment - but I will in time reflect over that time and bring you the edited clips as they spill out onto the pages. And it was a busy year. Lives were lost and gained, a toddler turned into a little princess, books were re-written and edited, yoga lessons were received and given, holidays were had, a garden was harvested and re-planted, wetlands and woodlands were re-wilded, articles were written and views were aired, difficult conversations were had and endured, sickness was faced and uncertainties accepted. With a few laughs (to be sure) in between. Those moments that tower over all: the death of a beautiful mother and the precious birth of a beautiful boy. Both events have me alternating between the worlds of joy and sorrow, elation and exhaustion, and all states of emotion in between. 

Sometimes I do feel somewhat overwhelmed, but that's when I must remember to dance, dance, and more dance to the music of it all. For it is only in the dance that we can flow and bend and quiver to the joyous and painful beauty of it all, and only then that we won't break under the sheer force and power of it all. 

So, onwards and forwards. Here's to another year gone in the Holly Cottage, and another adventurous year to come. Best that we set off with an open mind and a brimming heart, and of course a good pair of dancing shoes. For in the words of the Bard - the readiness is all. 

Lifting the Fog - some gentle reminders for the tail end of winter

This article also appears in Elephant Journal, published February 9th 2013
http://www.elephantjournal.com/2013/02/lifting-the-fog-catherine-wilkie/

When the fog lifts...

The last week has had a bite to it. No complaints from my side of the house. I'd trade the grey and damp mundane for the drama of the Irish landscape cloaked in a thick freezing fog by morning, sun  peeking through by midday to warm the frozen fields any day. It's back to slow driving again, and frost covered windscreens in the morning. But it's magical. And bonus - the light has started to filter into the Holly Cottage kitchen by 7.30am, fading only at a generous 5.30pm evening time. I hardly know myself! Leaving the office in daylight, being able to view the Holly Cottage garden for at least 15mins when i land home every evening - it certainly lifts the spirits and makes one think that we made it through the worst of it all for this winter. 

Readers following www.hcottage.blogspot.ie will be aware that I wallowed in self pity last week as I bemoaned the horror of winter. Sorry for that. It was getting me down, or rather I was letting it get me down. It just seems to go on for so long, and no hint of sunshine for us lovers of the light. Urged on by the will to make it better I've been exploring buddhist philosophy to try to refresh and stir my own way of dealing with it. I was led to was is called in buddhism The Four Reminders. Apologies to those who are better versed in these matters, but I found some reminders for myself of the basic fundamentals of our human existence that really do get crowded out when we - please note I can only speak for my own dark moments - are buried in self pity and self interest.

The Four Reminders as explained in This Precious Life by Khandro Rinpoche (Tibetan nun, living in the US) are (paraphrased heavily) life is precious, life is finite, there is invariably suffering (I know - doom and gloom anyone, but wait!) and the life we lead, the decisions and actions we take all has an impact on the overall well being of the world we live our lives in - aka karma. Not so sweetness and light eh ;) Roughly translated to street speak - You get one life. It's the most precious thing you'll ever own/experience. You're completely responsible for that body and the life you live - so you really owe it to yourself to quit dallying and get living (flashback to that line in The Shawshank Redemption). There will be challenges, don't let them become insurmountable obstacles - just do it, slow, steady and consistently. And be the best you can be, it makes a difference to you and the world. In more detail...

Reminder 1: Life is precious. Think about it. The odds of you and I being here at this time, in this place. The gift of the amazing body we have that is essentially at minimum a complex of atoms and energy that can move, breathe, eat and taste amazing foods, see wondrous things and experience the world around us. And what is the world around us? Sun and moon and stars and trees and bees and ocean and coral and pandas and other people and structures living and non-living - all supporting us and there for us to experience - or ignore - whatever we choose. We get a scare every now and then, and something happens when we realise it could be taken from us at any time....leading onto.....

Seize moments of wonder ;)

Reminder 2: This life an't forever. This is the reminder of the impermanence of life. This one has the power to gather momentum. This realisation creates the urgency to live, really live. Imagine choosing to ignore this and going through your life in a haze of habit and un-thinking - ignorance I guess you call it, or taking life for granted, and then at the moment it might all be taken away, realising that it wasn't at all what you wanted it to be. It was a mistake. This is one of my own greatest fears - I admit it freely - to not pursue the chances that come, to choose the comfort and the monotony of the familiar when the unknown which is often so scary (in our minds) but so exhilarating (in reality). I did a skydive over two years - literally jumped out of a moving plane entrusting my life to my skilled tandem skydive expert. It was frightening, seemed completely ludicrous at the time as we climbed to 10,000 feet and then regardless of innate fear and self protecting mechanisms inbuilt since the dawn of human,  we flung ourselves to the mercy of the sky. As soon as it was done, I wanted to get back up there and do it again. I have a moment locked in my brain when we drifted, glided, gracefully waltzed down an imaginary skyslide and the world below was a distant dream. Beautiful.

Reminder 3: Suffering. Now, there's a whole lot of hells described in This Precious Life - my least favorite being the extreme cold hells that seem to be a living reality on some January days. I can't really relate to these ideas as described, but I take the reminder of Suffering as a form of reminding us that no matter how bad things are they could be a whole lot worse. Or that we need to examine our own suffering and realise whether it is self-inflicted - born of habit and destructive tendencies - and do we play a role in its continued existence. If we recognise that we are at least part of the cause of our own suffering, it's really our responsibility to deal with it and give ourself the chance to escape a vicious circle of self hurt. Like any form of addiction. A tough one I know. Sometimes the suffering is created completely by our own minds, and the inability to deal with it and get rid of it, a result of us preferring to hold onto the comfort of suffering and clinging again to what we know. And that's pretty sad. 

Reminder 4: Karma. This is a complex one - and please refer to more learned texts and knowledgeable teachings. I interpret Karma as us taking responsibility for our own lives, for the cause and effect of us. Being aware of how we treat ourselves and others. Our thoughts and actions impact of so many aspects of life that we really do have the power to bring peace and love (man) or that whole suite of negativity that brings no joy but anger, aggression, jealousy and pain. I know that given the choice we would all choose the positive, but how difficult is that when old hurts rise when one encounters a less than pleasant memory from the past? Or how easy it is to envy others instead of being happy for their fortune and getting on with realizing our own. These last few days I've been wishing January away and wishing for another life in a warmer climate and a Mediterranean substitute for Holly Cottage. That is so not good for the soul!

What's a gal to do? Well, I am sticking with my yoga practice - even though it's half hearted some days - don't let self criticism knock you down. Integral to the various postures (asanas) are the breathing (pranayama) and my resolve to gift myself at least 20mins every day of meditation. Some days those 20mins are calm and concentrated, and others it feels like I have a spaghetti junctions of thoughts between my ears and looping around the back of my eyes. But I see the difference already. I trust in the teachings of those who have learned before me and shared their journeys openly and honestly. I trust in my own intuition to help dissolve the myths and habits and thoughts that fool and misguide us everyday. 

And so, everyday I will remind myself how great it is to be alive and that I'm the one holding the wheel and controlling the gears. The goal is self realisation and maybe even enlightenment, and why not? Baby steps.

There is so much to learn and figure out in terms of our own habitual tendencies and behaviours, and how we owe it to ourselves to realise the best experience of living this precious life as far and as completely as possible. And so, worth exploring these Four Reminders. Taking time to remind ourselves. I know for me that it will mean changing some old entrenched habits and maybe not realising the effect for some time. Then it may be immediate. One thing's for sure, once you take responsibility for your own happiness then there's no shifting blame, no avoidance of reality and no easy way out. Surely this is the greatest challenge of our lives but the one that can transform us from barely living to joyously and blissfully-aware-experiencing?

Like lifting the fog on a freezing winter land and suddenly seeing and feeling a sun that was giving, and loving, and shining there all the time. 

Because January Hurts

A delicate beauty in a cold and harsh world

January hurts. 

We've made it kicking leaves through the amber tinted days of autumn. I even relished the nipping cold as the trees were undone in November and the sun sank to its lowest on the horizon through December. We bustled and rummaged our way through the Christmas season, glad for the comfort of brightly coloured lights draped on rooftops outdoors and the scattered tinsel that clung to lovingly decorated trees brought indoors to guard carefully wrapped presents.  New Year's was quiet and passive - great to be setting off on another temporal voyage, great to mark the start of the next chapter. 

But now. I'm stuck. Badly. It's not even the end of January. Still only the middle of it and it hurts!!! 

Still dark in the mornings - no more lying in and sleeping until the sun rises to ease the pain, holidays are truly done. Still cold and wet, still cutting breezes come to taunt us from the wild atlantic sea that batters our western shore. Still only a glimpse of sunshine on any given day. But when it does break through - well, the dark grey is transformed into a glorious golden that stirs the fire in an otherwise low activity fireplace - the fireplace that is the internal hearth. 

I was struggling with this the last few weeks. I couldn't quite explain my lack lustre and lack of enthusiasm, it was just a lingering mood. Now that I've recognised it for what it is - well, you see instead of making me feel worse I feel remarkably better! You see, we can try to pretend that everything is ok, that we are totally on top of things. But that just makes it all the more self delusional and unresolvable. But if - if - we recognise the problem, when we see it's face and call it by its name.....ay, there's real honesty and wisdom. Give the nagging feeling a name, give it a face. Then we are ready for the cure. Some may call it a sign of weakness. But I call it a huge leap in self honesty and accepting that we're not always as strong as we might like to think.

So what's the cure for January you might ask? Learn to love it. Re-wire the brain. Detach. Take each moment as it comes and see the wonder in it. 

In the meantime, here is one simple and true symbol of all that is fantastic and wonderful about January. Our drop of snow, our snowdrop, our first sign of spring and testament that beauty can be the face of the strongest and most defiant force though it wear a delicate and seemingly vulnerable coat. 

Snowdrops

What's Another Year?

Journey's End 2012 -
try to keep within the speed limit!

It's the night before the page is turned and lifted on the 2013 calendar. The year we called 2012 is done and dusted, and while it can be a drag to dwell on what is passed - it's good to reflect on the highs and lows, and the lessons learned along the way. Maybe even the lessons ignored that we - inevitably - will face again once we are better able to take them on board. 

The year started fairly quiet for the folk of Holly cottage. The day job always kicks into extra high gear in early January and the delights of budgets and five year plans always seem to crush any pleasures save for the thrill of a lie in at the weekend, a bit of digging in the garden in winter sunshine and maybe even a trip to the cinema. I took the plunge last January and signed myself up for a creative writing course under the tutelage of Adam Wyeth - a poet based in West Cork and part of the Creative writing Ink initiative set up by Olive O'Brien. It was a great way to spend the dark winter nights - lots of weekly assignments and critique of my own writings. Plenty of lessons learned there and plenty to make the winter nights more meaningful that switching the tv on - highly recommended even you are only half interested in writing. It definitely revealed some of the cliches and pitfalls of writing creatively and thereby failing miserably. 

By March we had almost everything planted in the Holly Cottage garden - early spuds were in and onion sets were in the ground. Beans were sprouted and getting ready for the outdoors. By Easter time we had carrots, parsnips, beetroot, peas, beans, salads and seedlings in the greenhouse for tomato, cucumber, broccoli and brussels sprouts. It was all going great and we even had a week of summer in April. That was until the rain fell. From once it started to fall - it seems to me that time stood still in the garden from April to July - nothing seemed to advance or grow - except for the thriving slug population of course. It was a difficult summer, especially after three not so good ones before it. Worrying trend indeed. 

Picnic Basket's solo outing -
2012 Fungarvan

We managed to make the most of the one very sunny weekend in May - the jeep was loaded and we set off for the bright lights of Dungarvan (also christened Fungarvan after our antics there) in County Waterford. Dog was abandoned to minders so it was a puppy free and adult only weekend. Nice. This part of the country has so much to offer. We hadn't enough time to eat in every restaurant but those we did manage - Merry's and the Indian Ocean restaurant were absolutely superb and we are planning a return to the acclaimed Tannery as soon as the sun pokes it's head out the clouds and we rebuild the travel budget ;) It has a magic all of it's own - very different from the wilds of the west and calmer, yet no less seductive in its own way. We will be back ;)

In June it rained, rained and rained some more. Even in Sweden ;) Getting off the plane in Stockholm for a bit of a work thing I had dressed for sun and long lit Swedish midsummer nights - only to be met by the coldest weather recorded in a Stockholm summer. Hmm. Noticing a trend? When I got back to Ireland it was more of the same. A few days in June in the university city of Bangor (Wales) and a short day in August in Giessen in Germany proved a bit better, but not much. All over Europe and the planet Earth there were unsettling weather trends - the like not experienced before for the time of year and very unexpected. This causes problems. A wider trend then than just for poor ol' wet and soggy Ire-Land. 

Sunset on the Telford Bridge
June in Bangor Wales

And so the summer passed. I do recall that hat and gloves were required while walking the bogs in Mayo in August. And I do remember not being able to wear anything but wellies on our muddy walks through Charleville Castle woods. It was pretty miserable but we made it through - just about. Lots of Irish farmers were to the pin of their collars trying to get crops in those few good days in September and plenty was left in the field to rot. It's sad to watch crops abandoned to the wet and the mud. Something we may have to start planning for in the coming years though as the wet weather in summer seems to be showing every sign of becoming a long term trend. 

We did manage to get some sun on our toes though - remember swimming with the turtles? And all the lovely days and evenings spent hanging with the cousins watching the sunset in Barbados? If I close my eyes and concentrate I am back in Bathsheba treading my toes in the restless Atlantic foam. Home from home indeed. 

That led us to the autumn and lots of kicking of leaves in the autumn clad wood. A trip to Austria was the tonic for a yogini in need of refreshing her teaching skills; and then a December of music recording to flex the creative forces and divert the gaze from the dark and cold outside was another seasonal tonic.    

September in the Nephin Valley Mayo - Nice ;)

Sometimes I wonder how we manage to pack so much into the year - but we all do it. Look back on your own year and a whole gallery of faces and places, conversations - inner and outer - flash by. Sometimes the memory is to the fore - etched forever on the brain, like a tattoo that forms from the strength and intensity of that experience. Like watching the sunrise over the cliffs in Dungarvan that May Sunday morning or the sight of the city lights as I flew (Aerlingus of course - my superpowers not that well developed yet) over Britain in the darkness of November. Things that stay with us, that change us, that mould us. A phrase from an article, a funny picture on Facebook or an inspiring quote from Kahlil Gibran. All contributing to our own evolution. One thing's for sure we are not the same as we were when we started the journey last January 1st. 

And what for 2013? Plenty of hope, plenty of courage and plenty of gratitude for this precious life,  for what has past and what is sure to come. 

Happy New Year !

By the way - check out the youtube clip of Johnny Logan singing What's Another Year - it's a classic! Skip the first minute commentary though...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vccwzuttIQY

Ten Things I Learned from Holly

Holly sleeping...awww

It's Friday evening. That's always a good thing of course, a bonus. End of the working week and all for us Monday to Friday people. It never shuts the brain off really though, does it? I generally find that it takes a good dinner, good company and the promise of an easy Saturday to really switch over, even if that is after an incessant rant while concocting the Friday night dinner creation.

Tonight however, I am feeling particularly sorry for myself - never a good thing! It's a mixture of the usual stuff - worn out from the intensity of the demands placed on my shoulders by others during the week, trying to protect the interests of the human and non-human colleagues (that'll be the inhabitants of the wetlands and woodlands outside the window ;)) And biggest of all - I am a widow to the job that has the dearest person in the world to me videoing some conference or other in a fancy hotel in Dublin. Sigh.

And so I am home alone with the dog. And as soon as I write these words, I can't but smile :)

Holly was an idea in our minds for about a year before she came to us. We had already bought and moved into Holly Cottage, and she is (imaginatively I know) named for the name of the cottage. For years I had been wanting to have a dog in my life - somedog to accompany me on those long and solitary fieldwork sessions up the backs of mountains and down the banks of rivers. We always had a dog when I was growing up on the farm in Cappaduff. At one stage we had two, but for the most time it was one of a succession of small terriers - Brandy, Jack, Brownie...further imaginative names like those ;) For me the dog had the same value as a brother or sister, and even one of the many cats that passed through my childhood world. My favourite memories from that time are the days and evenings walking the fields with Brownie, hunting rabbits. That's what I called it, but really it was where the rabbit or hare would run one way and Brownie was invariably so confused and excited that he would run in completely the wrong direction. Such fun times! One evening we had a surreal encounter with a lonely, somewhat ghost-like fox...more on that another time. Back to Holly.

Holly is a golden cocker spaniel. We decided two years ago - while in recovery from another long week and a late Friday night that we would finally give in to responsibility, and get a puppy. Classic young couple move - all the rest of it, you can write the book on it. Anyway, after much debate and tooing and frooing on websites, we found Holly and her siblings just an hour's drive away and ready and waiting for a suitable home to bring her to. There was eight or nine puppies in the one litter. OMG. So adorable. So cute. So like you wanted to bring them all home there and then. How to choose? I think that she chose us. She came over and sat on my shoe. Decision made.

Two years later and she is Holly Wilkie - crazy, wild, insatiable, unpredictable and completely loving. Check out the YouTube clips (see below) if you need some convincing! But she is like no other. All this week while spending most of my time with her alone, I have been musing in my head as to 'the top ten things I learned from Holly'....and so hear it goes:

1. Love - Holly has love for everyone. Unprejudiced, unconditional. You will be licked to death if not knocked over in her small - yet powerfully pawed - dog's attempt at hugging you. She absolutely loves everyone. She loves her master the best though ;) When he comes through that door tomorrow, her whole world (and mine) will be back to balance. I'm sure the neighbours hear it from a mile down the road every time, but the yelping, and crying and excited Holly sounds can last for a good 30mins after their reunion. I just wait my turn ;)

Dog Zen ;)

2. Give - As above. The un-adultered joy and love that dog has brought to our lives...for only the promise of love and walks and runs and swims and routine and dog biscuits in return.

Let's go!

3. Forgive - I am generally the one that scolds Holly, and - convinced the cliche runs true - my scolding of her hurts me more than her. While I am wracked with guilt and upset for having to chastise her - usually when she runs out on the road or does something completely life threatening, she just wags her tail and gets over it. She doesn't hold an ounce of it against me. In fact, I think she loves me more for it (probably pushing it a bit there).

4. Yoga - First thing in the morning - you got it ;) Effortless and textbook, they don't call it downward dog for nothing ;)

5. Go Wild - This dog, the bitch with the most beautiful angelic golden framed face - is not afraid to show her wild side! Again, something to learn here. I think we all benefit from unleashing our inner craziness. Better out than in ;) It can be difficult, I know this. But so enjoyable.

6. Enjoy your food - Holly knows when we turn the last bend for home. If it's the evening she knows it's her time, and she will not be calm until she has a bowl of her favourite biscuits before her. And then, after literally savaging the whole bowl in seconds, she has acquired the knack of unleashing the almightiest belching sound you ever heard! again, apologies to the neighbours. And she doesn't apologise ;)

7. Show your inner joy - She couldn't hide it if she tried! She has this tail that I'm sure must be directly linked to the pleasure centre in her brain. The swimming is the most joyous for her, or is it the thrown stick? Of course she can't hide her fear or anxiety either - that's the tell tale hair up like a shot on the back of her neck when an un-leashed other dog approaches.

8. Rest - I've watched her go from crazy and wild to complete and utter immobile relaxation all in the space of 5 mins. Impressive. Not a knot in those muscles to unravel. And when she snores...well, she puts certain people in the shade ;)

9. Live for the moment and Live simply - see all of the above :) Holly doesn't spare a moment for the past or the future, she is totally here and now in the present. Dog transcendental ;)

Throw the stick damn it :)

10. Approach life and love with utter abandon - again, probably one or two of the above combined. But watching her now sprawled out across the couch - head back, four paws in the air and yet ready in an instant to go running or accepting treats - just do it.

And there's more, but that's ten for now and Holly is ready for her run ;)

And here's Holly -

A crazy Holly -
http://youtu.be/xiG1fu9JaEI

A young Holly -
http://youtu.be/43aX5adDKLw

Dog out of Hell -
http://youtu.be/hAV1AAsN8VU