Category Archives: Self Realisation

Love Will Never Leave You Hungry

Mam! I turned quickly when I heard him call.
He waved the shiny wrapped package in the air. He walked out onto the road and handed me the forgotten bread. I squeezed him tightly, kissed his cheek and the top of his head. He went back inside knowing today I would be fed.
It is usually a Mother who feeds a child, today the role reversed and it made my spirit smile. Nine years old already serving nourishment.
It’s comforting to know
That Love Will Never Leave You Hungry.

An Peann
For the son of An Peann, an always giving little spirit. X

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The Orchestra of Life

There are so many sections to the Orchestra.

The Strings which can pull on our hearts like the people we share our lives with.

Percussion beats the rhythm of life, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.

The Wind section plays the soundtrack of emotions. We can feel the intensity of love, life, fear and sadness like the oboe playing over the landscape of our time.

The Ivories of the Grand Piano can tickle our lives with resonance when we hear the score of our hopes played for the first time.

Each person in our life will play a different instrument. A different role. We will love and be loved because we recognise each other’s song.

Not everyone can accompany an Orchestra, there are the rare Songbirds who can.

I have heard one hush a crowded room with her haunting tones.

I have watched her love with a melody in her heart.
I have witnessed the beauty of her harmonies as she has flown through her life’s seasons.

Her laughter as infectious as a catchy song, you cannot help but sing or laugh along.

My Songbird is one of my most precious friends.
She has a voice so beautifully special, her sound was born to be sung.

Her name is Olivia and I will listen to her song until the end.

The Orchestra of Life would sound nothing without you my friend.

Happy Birthday little Songbird.

An Peann
Dedicated to Olivia Luc
Love you. Xxx

The Rushing Man

The Rushing man was always in a hurry.
His time was tightly packed into each hour.
He worked hard, ate at his desk. He ran instead of walking.
The face he looked upon most was that of the clock. He wished he could hold her arms still to slow life down, but she kept on moving forward.

The Rushing Man had not time for friends.
He had not time to kiss his wife goodbye or tell his children he loved them.
A busy man has not time for himself.
He would try make time tomorrow, or the day after. Tomorrow never came.

The Rushing Man grew weary and grey.
He wanted to learn how to make some time.
Coming home from work one evening, he told his wife ‘ I want to invest my time in us again. I missed so much, but now I have the time to see that, I want to make amends.’

His wife smiled sadly at him ‘ you were so busy, we never had time to say goodbye. While you were rushing, I went and died. You were too busy to cry. You can come visit me, now you have time.’

He woke up the next morning with tears in his eyes. He rolled over and jumped with shock, when he seen his wife smile. He kissed her and held her with relief and delight.

The Rushing Man’s nightmare helped him see the light. He now has no time for rushing. He only has time for life.

An Peann

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

 

Under Cavan Skies

On the 360th day of the year with four minutes to midnight we stood under clear Cavan skies.

Every star had a sharpness so bright they could make an atheist bow at their majesty.
You cannot deny what the eyes make you see.

Orion’s Belt was fastened with clarity.
A question mark backwards demanded we ask ourselves the unanswerable.

Above Orion was a red star.
Stars normally don’t impress me, they make me dizzy.

They crowd my thinking, take my breath away, make me feel small and overwhelmed. They frighten me with their boastful eternity.

They will continue to shine long after we are gone.

The Ancient Greeks once thought there was a blanket behind the skies, they believed the blanket was pierced with little holes, in which the light shone through.
Those lights are what we call the stars.

Time teaches us to believe different things.

As we stood under the lights, I listened as he told me what the constellations were called.

I listened because these past few weeks have taught us that although the stars relentlessly shine, those we love can dim their light.

People can walk out the door and never come home again.

Children can be taken before they are given the opportunity to shine.

Who’s heaven decides such fate?

Illness can meet you at unexpected places, leave or take us into his arms and walk away with us.

Walking up the yard toward the house, the blue lights of the suspended Christmas tree on the street outside, brought us back to the falseness of our reality.

Our made up world that we focus so much on, fades in comparison to the Greek blanket hanging in the Cavan sky.

Oh, the beauty and fragility of life.
Understanding that brightness can be found even in the darkest corners, can resurrect our hopes.
There is such power and strength to be found in the darkness of life, for through the darkness is the epitome of life – those everlasting twinkling beacons of night’s light.

If only we could remember to bring those stars into our day’s light.
There may come a time, you need to fight for some light, if you do just remember
that once the Greeks believed in a pierced blanket in the sky.
Anything is possible, if you are willing to see the light.

An Peann