In both Ireland and England, they spoke English yet it is so different from American English. I appreciated many of the differences and enjoyed laughs with others at confusion caused by some of those differences. I kept hearing about “biscuits and tea” and thought of “baking powder biscuits.” Eventually, I figured out “biscuits” means cookies, scones and similar desserts. One day, I read a section of Dream Glasses to the writer’s group and someone asked “what are cookies?” Much laughter ensued the explanation.
In Ireland when foreigners move into a town, the locals refer to them as “Blow-ins.” Even when an Irish person moves from one town to another, they are considered “Blow-ins.” With that understanding I can say, we were Blow-Ins that had plenty to learn about life in Ireland.
Ireland’s culture is rich and deep. Wow! There are layers upon layers of history to create the culture. Pondering those eight weeks brings the realization of how much we learned, how many people we interacted with and how much those people impacted us. I learned how extremely similar we all are and yet how uniquely individual we are. It is amazing how we’ve each been created!
We’ve returned to American soil, with a part of Ireland in our hearts. We learned Christian leaders there, just like here, need encouragement and support of other believers. Those who shared what our being in County Kerry meant to them, richly blessed us; they found encouragement in our being there and look forward to our return.
Linda found friendship with a group of writers. Writers bond over words; over the emotions tied to those words; then bond over a cup of tea and shared laughter.
Before heading back to Colorado, we spent five days with family and friends in the Dorset, England area. That was an amazing holiday time — a time to share with another Christian couple the work God’s doing in Ireland and what we experienced; time given to us without the responsibilities of hearth; it was a time for our own thoughts to settle in our minds before landing back home; it was a beautiful gift.
In our ten weeks away, we discovered friendship as a result of daily living in the culture and enjoyed those whom we interacted with. The blessing of friendship is something we can each bring to the world surrounding us, every day we have breath.
The tulips are gone. The weather turned a corner and I shed my daily sweater layer. We witnessed community clean-up days; people pruned their shrubs, bushes and trees; or painted their house fronts. The sound of birds fills the air, the trees are greening, roses fill walkways, everything is in bloom or soon ready to break forth. Tour bus traffic has increased on the roads since when we first arrived. Ireland has readied itself for the tourist season, just as we prepared to pack up and leave. It is a different place than when we arrived.
Red Roses of Tralee
Yellow Roses or Tralee
We’ve enjoyed two months in County Kerry, and enjoyed the people we’ve met, gotten to know and hope to maintain relationships with.
The current stage is of goodbyes with the question, “when will we see you again?” The answer is in God’s hands.
Friends from home are asking, when you return?
Life activities on both sides of the Atlantic are calling.
Goodbyes are never easy as they pull on heart strings.
We leave with many memories.
A piece of my heart remains here and a piece of my heart is calling me home.
If you were to ask what my thoughts are, Bittersweet is the answer.
Wow! It’s hard to believe we wrapped up week seven in Ireland. In the blink of an eye, seven weeks passed.
Thoughts whirl and twirl through my mind as I try to sort them. I suspect the sorting process will take some time.
Each of us has made contacts in County Kerry that have a place in our hearts, as do many people back in the US. I’ve read each of us only has the capacity to maintain a finite number of relationships, and that number varies little from person to person. That’s not my life experience. I find as I reach out and build a relationship with someone, my heart expands to make room for more relationships. With each relationship I build, it enriches something within my life.
My heart swells at the good thoughts of those who have touched my life; I’m grateful for the simple expressions of friendship, for the caring acts of our family, for the loving arms of God’s expanded family who know no geographical boundaries.
We’ve written about the weekly activities we each take part in, and those activities may sound simple or repetitive, but in many ways that is what life is about—simple, repetitive acts performed again and again; all the while with lives interacting and crossing one another. And so, week seven was another such week for us, full of people, interactions and activities.
We try to take one day each week and drive somewhere. The attached photo is from a seashore town, an area traveled often by tourists which is why I suspect the houses are so brightly colored. It is beautiful, and then nearby is the blue of the sea and the sky.
The local writers group assigned the topic of “Day Dreams.”
This piece came from that assignment.
As a little girl, with bubble wand in my hand, I twirl.
The bubbles, like my day dreams unknown to me, rise in the sky.
My only fascination lay with watching the bubbles rise and marveling how high they went before they burst.
I shared this activity with my daughters and grand-daughters. To this day, I stop and smile when I witness a child partaking in this delight.
Only later did I realize my day dreams rode on those bubbles. How many dreams did I let escape? Did they really escape, or simply hitch a ride on a star?
As an adult, the night sky and its stars captivated me. I love how the night lights sparkle and shine against the dark velvet.
I moved west and in the high, dry mountain air found the stars more numerous than previously imagined. And they appeared much closer. In fact, close enough to reach out and grab. I began to see the connection between bubbles, stars and my day dreams.
Now I envision my day dreams found protection in the stars until such time as I could gather them back to myself. In the safety of maturity and greater self-awareness, I’m learning which dreams to toss back to the stars for another time or person to claim. With fresh eyes and new appreciation, I’ve reclaimed some of those day dreams. As they unfold and develop, I change and grow.
Now I recognize that day dreams and dreaming keeps one alive and vibrant.
My advice to you: Hang onto your dreams!
Do you still dream?
Are you finding any of your old dreams returning to you?
I recently finished reading “The Second Half of your Life” by Jill Shaw Ruddock.
I resonate with the term “Second Half” instead of “old” or “retired.”
This book covers much information I’ve previously read, available to the woman who reaches those menopausal years, yet Jill Ruddock nicely pulled it all together in one place. Being an American, I enjoyed reading perspectives from “the other side of the pond,” even though I’m currently “on that side.” The core issues remain the same.
I enjoyed the humor found in the different use of vocabulary.
I appreciated her reference to those of us who are “baby boomers” being the “golden generation.” She stated we have defined every age of our lives simply because of how many of us there are; and expects as a group we will redefine what “old” means.
I like that thought. I have no interest in the idea of trying to be younger than my current age, but certainly won’t sit down and wait to die. This is my “second life” and I’m enjoying life. For me, that means life is to be lived; to be creative; to be full of passion and meaning.
Last week I spent a morning with a group of women trying to get a Women’s Resource Center off the ground here in Tralee, Ireland. The room was filled with energy while women shared their vision and passion to create something in the community to benefit many. Some of these women were in their “second half” living a passionate life.
Recently I heard, “You’re living the dream.” Somehow the statement didn’t ring true for me. Living the dream implies a perfect life with no problems or concerns; and I don’t live a perfect life. In fact, I know no one who does, and my experience has proven that talking about the negative aspects of life doesn’t do much to improve the situation. As I pondered the statement, I realized if I changed the proclamation to “I’m living my dreams” I resonated with this view. My current reality involves seeing many of my old dreams happening. This reality didn’t happen overnight, nor did it happen on my time-schedule. In fact, much of my reality holds dreams I’ve carried for decades upon decades; some are dreams I’d previously abandoned; put on the shelf or assumed I could never accomplish.
I’m astonished when I look back and remember the birth of these dreams and realize they are now part of my life. Those thoughts cause me to smile. Then I overhear people say they have stopped dreaming, and it makes my heart sad. I’ve learned some things require more time to percolate before they come to fruition; some things require more work or effort; and then there’re the elements which come together because of a blessing or gift being bestowed upon you. Those things that are passions within your heart and mind are frequently the things that make your heart beat quicker; they put a bounce in your step; a smile on your face; and are often the things that allow you to realize your life impacts others.
You may have been created to fulfill those aspirations. Hold tight to the ability to dream. Recognize you may need to refine some of your desires or think in a larger time frame. But don’t give up on having dreams.
Are you holding dreams in your heart? Do you have people in your life who encourage you to dream?
This morning while reading “writing” material, I discovered an article on crisis management and how that affects writers.
Oh, the events in life that affect a writer, and how those same experiences impact creativity or the ability to put words to paper. Perhaps I should say, inability to put words to paper.
As I pondered the article, I realized I can exercise crisis management during those seasons when the words seem to have died. In fact, I recognized unwittingly I was actually doing just that. Instead of working on my next book, I found myself absorbed in other writing. I practiced what I call “mental health” writing. Life itself had presented various writing assignments I needed to complete for marketing a couple up-coming author events.
I don’t know what works for you, but for me, words are the answer to healing, to dealing with a crisis, to life. I can smile, knowing I’ll be back to working on that book project soon.
What do you do when life throws you a curve ball and you feel you’ve lost your creative edge?
I took this photo was from the dining-room window the other morning. Those are hummingbirds, though, because of the frenzied movements of these birds, one might think they were viewing a beehive. This is the annual feeding frenzy before these little creatures fly south to a warmer climate. If this visual isn’t enough reminder of the changing seasons, the audible increase from the crickets sings the same message. Years ago, an older gentleman told my husband that when the crickets get loud listen carefully for they are singing, “Winter’s coming, winter’s coming.”
I’m sure that’s true, but before it arrives I hope to enjoy autumn – my favorite time of the year. What’s your favorite season?