There are times one tries to change the world. Well younger people do, that's what young people should do... but I am no longer young and though I am not fully 'spent', the energy is sapped and snapped and wanting. So what can I change...today!?
There is one 'house' worth working on as from this house all springs; focus, ideas, motivation and possibly enough energy to change things still.
this 'house' is my body. this rather fatter body than years past needs tackling. Not for vanity or image or idealised style of femininity. That has never been a priority. But I have erred, and erred badly ...the 'body house', is THE most important of our resources. we cannot, must not, neglect our bodies.
What we eat, what we do, exercise, and all things 'healthy' are not frivolous pursuits or to be taken for granted.
If the 'body house' fails then all else fails, like a stack of cards built in our childhood as houses, they will topple and fall...flat on the ground. Never to be built up again. That is scary. I hope I have not left it too late.
At 60 years old, nearly 61 (November) can this wrecked body be revived? I think so. And today I start. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step!
well I may not be going a thousand miles, nor even one, but a single step seems possible.
IN THIS BLIGHTED HOUSE: A new blog to describe my return to Ireland. how I feel in this 'blighted house', the land of my birth. it will discuss all the GOOD this land has to offer, yet show the 'blights' that mar the scenes. I live and long...for a land of beauty in the people, in the politics, in the health of this nation. It can be found...but there is 'cost' and is the 'cost' too much to bear...
Monday, September 30, 2013
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Well here I am, in a different blog, doing a different thing. sharing my thoughts and views 'in this blighted house'. Now what does THAT mean you ask. Is the 'house' my body, my home, my homeland, my town, my ...well what is, whose HOUSE is it? It is all of these houses, body, land, family...all of these...
Well a 'house' is generally the bricks and mortar of one's lived in space. but I use the word more broadly. A 'house' should keep one safe, safe from the elements, safe from the baddies, safe and secure. Warm and held in an embrace of 'belonging'.
When I came home to Ireland in 2009 after a long sojourn away, I left in 1971, I thought I was 'coming Home'. To my Irish House. To my family 'house', and I brought my house, my body with me to the land of my birth. I longed all those years to be here. I always said I'd come 'home'. I would 'come home' and learn about my birthplace, learn about my people, and that also meant, learn about my family. But I also wanted to give, give my love, my skills, my breath and my soul...to this land of my birth.
But my house I find, is blighted. We all know 'blight', especially in this land. The famine of the potato blight killed millions, starved millions. Decimated large tracts of both land and families. For pain and suffering was on a scale like no other...and it could have been prevented, but that is a contentious story.
Have I returned to 'a blighted house'? There are times I say," oh yes, a very blighted house". Other times I say, "no, this is NOT a blighted house". And each day is different. The felt 'starvation' is more or less each day. But never completely absent. Reminders are there...every day.
I find myself wondering how the hunger can be filled, for there is always hunger. How my 'blighted house' can be repaired, or has the modern 'famine' of lack of love, of lack of community, of lack of support for vulnerable people, disabled people, older people, homeless people, unemployed people, prisoners, refugees, travellers, can this 'blight' be eradicated.
Who can cure the 'blight' in Ireland today? Is it I? you? Them? others?
On this first entry all I can say...today...is that I recognise the 'blight' and I wish it were not so.
But I 'came home'....was I right, wrong to do so...tell me, was I right or wrong to do so?
and irony of ironies ...as I write this blog...I burned my potatoes...and I am starving...message there eh?
Well a 'house' is generally the bricks and mortar of one's lived in space. but I use the word more broadly. A 'house' should keep one safe, safe from the elements, safe from the baddies, safe and secure. Warm and held in an embrace of 'belonging'.
When I came home to Ireland in 2009 after a long sojourn away, I left in 1971, I thought I was 'coming Home'. To my Irish House. To my family 'house', and I brought my house, my body with me to the land of my birth. I longed all those years to be here. I always said I'd come 'home'. I would 'come home' and learn about my birthplace, learn about my people, and that also meant, learn about my family. But I also wanted to give, give my love, my skills, my breath and my soul...to this land of my birth.
But my house I find, is blighted. We all know 'blight', especially in this land. The famine of the potato blight killed millions, starved millions. Decimated large tracts of both land and families. For pain and suffering was on a scale like no other...and it could have been prevented, but that is a contentious story.
Have I returned to 'a blighted house'? There are times I say," oh yes, a very blighted house". Other times I say, "no, this is NOT a blighted house". And each day is different. The felt 'starvation' is more or less each day. But never completely absent. Reminders are there...every day.
I find myself wondering how the hunger can be filled, for there is always hunger. How my 'blighted house' can be repaired, or has the modern 'famine' of lack of love, of lack of community, of lack of support for vulnerable people, disabled people, older people, homeless people, unemployed people, prisoners, refugees, travellers, can this 'blight' be eradicated.
Who can cure the 'blight' in Ireland today? Is it I? you? Them? others?
On this first entry all I can say...today...is that I recognise the 'blight' and I wish it were not so.
But I 'came home'....was I right, wrong to do so...tell me, was I right or wrong to do so?
and irony of ironies ...as I write this blog...I burned my potatoes...and I am starving...message there eh?
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