Category Archives: Encouragement

Reclaim Ownership

You began in a watery cave of dreams.
A place where you paid no rent.
You were given shelter, nourishment and protection.
As all these gifts were given, you grew from a cell.

Out you came, unknowing.
Without debt, you credited the world with your presence.
You drank the milk of your creator.
You ate when your body was ready.

You wriggled, rolled, crawled then walked.
You ran when your legs gathered speed.
Learning was first mimicked, then taught.
Thinking became realised, then censored.

Rules became laws. Right was not wrong.
You stepped into line, there was a queue.
You followed the crowd, became a pawn.
You believed you were contributing.

You woke up one day, disillusioned.
With all the years of sculpting
YOU REALISE
Society had repossessed your hopes.

You take your awareness to the court.
The Court of Moral Awareness.
You present your case, success is promised.
You tell counsel this:

I began in a watery cave of dreams.
A place where I paid no rent.
I was given shelter, nourishment and protection.
As all these gifts were given, I grew from a cell.

The Judge who presides over Court asks you
‘What are you arguing for?’
You reply, ‘I have come to reclaim ownership.
I have the right to own my thinking.’

On returning from The Chamber of Conscience
The judge straightens his thinking stating
‘I wish more people would come to my court.
The mind is the property of oneself.’

You look the Judge straight in the eye.
The resemblance between you both is uncanny.
You resolve to take full responsibility going forward.
You will never pay dues on your own thinking again.

An Peann

 

The Three Voices

Little Voice, Big Voice and Real Voice lived together inside their human.

Little Voice spoke in faint whispers. She was very wise but her wisdom was shrouded by low self esteem.

Big Voice had no trouble being heard. He mostly talked utter nonsense, yet no body had ever pointed this out. So he just kept talking.

Real Voice prided himself on his sense of accuracy. He said things as they were. He saw things in black and white. This was unfortunate as he missed out on many colourful opportunities.

One day their human began practising the art of silence. Someone told her there was a way she could control her thinking. This concerned the three voices.

Real Voice decided to talk with Big Voice and Little Voice.
They all gave each other a moment to say their piece.

This had never been done before.

Big Voice said ‘you know this is just a passing phase. Another New year, she thinks she can have a new mind. She will never stick it out.’

Real Voice smirked at Big Voice ‘this is not some new diet or passing phase, I sense she actually wants to gain some perspective. Some humans happily drift through life and allow their voices to take over. She’s not like the rest of them. Something has changed.’

Little Voice, brushed her hair away from her mouth and said, ‘maybe she wants to think for herself? Does she not deserve to hear her own true voice in the silence?
We speak over each other, well you two do. I rarely get a chance to be heard.
I’m a cheer leader with Pom Pom’s and a whispering voice. I want to scream at her to just do it. Become a tightrope walker in stilettos if you want. She doesn’t want to join the circus but you get my drift.’

Real Voice smiled at Little Voice and spoke in a forgiving tone. ‘Dreams are for the sleeping Little Voice.’
Big Voice interrupted, ‘well now I’d have to disagree with you there. Not everything is black and white. Dreams are not just for bedtime, they are the foundations of new beginnings, the building blocks on which new lives are made.’
Little voice clapped in delight. ‘That’s the most positive thing I have ever heard you think Big Voice.’
Real Voice sensed an air of difference, he never witnessed Little Voice and Big Voice compliment one another.
Big Voice sounded quieter and Little Voice grew almost taller.

‘I can hear you all’, said their Human. The three voices looked up in the air as though a god had spoken from the heavens.
‘Rumbled I tell you’, said Real Voice
‘We have been rumbled.’
The three voices held hands in fear.

There has been less noise recently, the voices try not speak over each other. Little Voice doesn’t whisper anymore. Big Voice is a better listener and Real Voice is taking a colour therapy class. He wants to brighten his horizons.

An Peann

Happy New Year Readers.
This year listen to your own voice. The one that’s trying to find you. X

 

A Coat of Vulnerability

I once had the pleasure of hearing Patti Smith perform in London. Only two hundred of us shared a room with her.
I was young and mesmerised.
It was one of those evenings; I banked preciously in my mind.
A night I knew, I wouldn’t forget.

Recently, she was asked to sing at the Nobel Laureate Ceremony, when she was asked to sing the winner hadn’t been announced.
She soon found out Bob Dylan her hero, was the person she would be honouring with song. She decided she would sing Dylan’s ‘A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.’ A beautifully painful piece.

Hard Rain fell as she sang, the words left her.
Accompanied by a full orchestra in the company of dignitaries and royalty, she had to stop.

‘Sorry, can we start over? I’m so nervous?’

Instead of being another star’s falter, it became poetry in motion. The ultimate illustration of how we can all make mistakes. In a cold world, where people are quick to judge and slow to praise or support each other, Patti wore a Coat of Vulnerability. A delicate outfit worn by a beautiful human being.

Patti a hero of mine, honoured her hero Bob Dylan. Her performance was stunning, more splendid by the stumble.
Sometimes words leave us.
Sometimes people leave us.

We can always find our song again, even when we are nervous.

Mistakes are good, they are the lessons that help us find our way again.

Imagine a world where we could, just start over again?
We live in that world.
Patti wore a coat of Vulnerability, she wore it well.

An Peann

Dedicated to my favourite singer in the world Olivia Luc her lovely husband and beautiful family. They have had their own painful song to struggle through recently, together they have strength and love in their song. Well wishes to you all. Xxx

 

The Worry Bear

They now have a Teddy Bear that children can put their little worries into.
They write down their fears and troubles place them in Teddy’s pockets and he takes them away.

Adults could do with a Bear like that too. Carrying around your worries is back breaking. They weigh down the mind and colour the heart blue.

My Worry Bear was once my Mother. She carried around all her own worries, but she always left room in her pockets for our troubles too.

Although we think people have their own concerns, we should never be afraid to share our fears.
A problem shared shrinks a problem, it’s true.

Be someone’s friend tonight, hold out your arms for a cuddle, let someone know you are listening. Worry Bears come in all shapes and sizes. They are the stuffing that family and friends are made of.

Worry Bear’s are made from the fibres of a caring society.
A Worry Bear always has room in its pockets, for a true Bear’s pockets are lined with love, time and care just for you.

Open your Bear pockets tonight. It costs nothing to help make a worry feel light.
One day you might need a Worry Bear to tell you ‘everything is going to be alright’.

An Peann
Sending Bear Hugs out to everyone in need tonight.

 

 

The Tunnel of Buried Dreams

The tunnel has no doors
No way back

The light outside is so
blindingly beautiful
and utterly terrifying,
That with great hesitance and difficulty
We struggle to trek towards it

The light that people talk about in death,
Is that same light that wants to shine for you in life

Shadows only block the light to take away your flame,
Keep you in your place, tucked away from change

We will never know how good the light feels
If we are always afraid to be seen

The tunnel has no doors
No way back

Stepping outside the tunnel today,
Let the light sow you a purpose,
Exquisitely stitched from
The seams of buried dreams.

An Peann

The Bookman

The first time he looked at me, I knew no one had ever looked at me that way before.
We met after a play in the Abbey called Drum Belly. The play was on my upcoming English exam. I wasn’t going to go, as money at the time was always needed for other things. 
My friend and fellow student Michéal, bought me a ticket, so like Cinderella I went to the Abbey.

It was a great play, hadn’t been to the theatre for years. 

Later a few of us from college went for some drinks. Michéal told me his friend was coming in to meet us. 
In arrived his friend, a man with a bounce in his step and huge smile on his face. 

I marched through the city between these two friends, we had some food and went back to his pals, where they played guitar, laughed, chatted and sang. It was a great evening. They put me in a taxi later and sent me safely home. 
A few weeks later Micheal told me his friend had offered to get the English books on my reading list for 2nd year. He worked at a University. I was delighted, they would have cost me a small fortune to buy.
I saved his number in my phone as the Bookman, never knew his surname. True to his word, he got me every last book I needed. I just had to go collect them. 
In the back of my mind I wondered what were his motives, Michéal told me he was just a nice guy, a diamond he called him.
I collected my books one Friday evening. We interrogated each other and went our separate ways. 

To be honest, I wasn’t looking for love, I was happy for the first time in my life. It was just me and my little boy. We were doing just fine by ourselves. 
I promised the Bookman I would buy him a few beers if he was in Lucan sometime, but I never called him. Later that night I sat admiring my pillar of books, thinking, Jesus, do I have to read all of them? 
  A few weeks later the Bookman phoned. He asked me out for dinner. Sushi and a movie he suggested. I didn’t know how to hold chop sticks and I never ate Sushi. I braved it, ate the Sushi, which was divine and we rushed to the Light House cinema to catch our Woody Allen movie, which we were late for.

 When we arrived they somehow had double booked our seats. The guy on the door was so apologetic. He really wanted to help. He dashed away and came back with two big armchairs, which he plonked in the aisle for us.

 I remember thinking to myself, it was a fire hazard having us block the exit. Think that was the law student in me. 

We sat down like the king and Queen of the Big Screen and laughed. 

As the Bookman leaned in to steal a kiss from me, the usher was walking back towards us. He said, ‘I’m so sorry but I’m going to have to ask you both to leave, it’s a health and safety issue.’

He took away our thrones and we went off and had coffee and cake. 

That was three years ago now. The Bookman’s name is Éamonn. He changed our world, words couldn’t describe what a truly wonderful man he is. I couldn’t be without him. 

Today is his Birthday. He is my diamond. 

Happy Birthday Mr Bookman

I love you. Xxx
An Peann