Shiva's and Metta's Mother's Sutra

There are no birds in my garden today. In fact there have been really few birds on the ground. Yesterday at the museum there was practically nothing. This sort of thing makes people like me worry. Although i must say there were LOADS of birds at the Comber Greenway. Strengthening my suspicions that if we are to do conservation we have to break out of the traditional beauty spots and go to places that have the birds and the people. Only then can the case for wildlife be made. There is no point going to some place on top of a mountain and then hoping that people begin to feel strongly about a couple of pairs of something which they will never see. The rooks and magpies now rule the skies. With the little birds having a hard time in the cold snap. That's what it seems to be from where i sit. It's a cold gloomy day and i'm off to Omagh soon. In the middle of the Sperrins, Gortin is a place i've heard about but never visited. So i'm looking forward to it.

Does anyone think we could ever go back to the 1970s again in Northern Ireland? I look at the old faces of the men with intolerable entrails and wonder if this generation had it in them to go back to where they were? On the one hand, at least we are not killing each other. Apart from a few deluded Republicans and paramilitary types who are actually running drug rings and prostitution rackets, no one else is interested in going back to the bombing. Even when it was taking place, people told me, the majority who didn't want any of this suffered in silence, looking on, while those who had nothing to lose just went about with the rule of the gun. Of course its a lot more complicated, and i never ever try to say anything about the political situation here because i don't come from here and i never went through what they went through. But then you could say the same about a 12 year old child. Which is the amount of time i've been here. A whole generation have lived through a time...

I've been in bed with the kids and just thought that maybe i need to do a bit of writing. It is the end of January and i can't believe how quickly it has all gone. Listening to OMD on You Tube. Its amazing all the stuff you can get at this time and at once. It's hard to recall the world before the internet. Before the internet, you had what you had around you. You had what you had around you. In your house. Your tapes, LPs, CDs, you had the radio. Your books. Your notes. Your badges. The stuff in magazines or fan books. What you knew you had in your hands. What you saw, you needed to know people to see. People who had the stuff. You borrowed things and you returned it. You met to exchange things. You spoke to people at meetings and through clubs. I wrote letters. And i received them. In the attic i have bags and bags from friends and lovers. I have tokens we sent each other. I never look at them, but they are tangible proof that there was a time in my life when i was young ...

Just come home and had dinner. Oisin is doing the rola bola, which i must post a photo of. It's an upside down skateboard on a pipe which slides from side to side. He's getting quite good at it. Being able to balance himself there for more than five seconds. Ghin is playing with his trains, of course. I cooked some fried rice for the boys and myself and vegetarian sausages and polenta for Peter. He will be back in the office this evening. It's been mental at work, with me out of the office for most of the time. I've been running up and down Northern Ireland interviewing and talking to people about the Big Garden Bird Watch. On Saturday i'll be in Newry doing a radio interview with FiveFM. Things feel so flat. I can't wait for this month to pass. We'll be having our twelfth wedding anniversary next Tuesday. I don't know what we should do. I can't be bothered to go out - just spending money seems rather pointless. We could go somewhere nice i suppose. ...

Today Oisin asked me if there was a war in more than one place? Is there a war in Iraq as well mom? It's not just Afghanistan? I was slightly stunned actually. We were listening to the news and it made my heart break to think that my son thinks that there is only one place where war is occurring. What kind of world am i passing on to the kids? We were at the school today, tidying up. It felt good. It felt like honest work. Shoveling and cleaning. Weeding. I made some soup for the crew. It wasn't too many, but there was enough. We chatting - about The Road. Someone said they were emotionally disturbed for months after reading it. For some reason i felt relieved. I felt glad that someone else thought that this kind of writing didn't contribute to the sum of good. the TV is so loud. I went running again today. So that's the most number of days run over the last month. Wednesday through to Saturday. And there was Monday as well. I'm glad that i've kept it up.

Peter is reading this book called Beyond Transcendence. It's about the Law and how Zen can bring fresh insight into the way we understand Law. I think it is specifically Law, not justice. He author also looks at Heidigger, Levinas and Wittgenstein. I know nothing for the former and the latter i know mostly from a film by Derek Jarman. I'm hoping to read the book when he is done with it. It starts off with the Chinese ideogram 'sing', meaning heart. This character is used in loads and loads of Chinese words to make new ones. And it talks about the use of the image for a language and how, in this way, not only is the verbal conveyed, but the non verbal as well. I admire the people who actually struggle to make sense of the world. What compels them with tiny puny tools, like language, to attempt to make sense of the senselessness? I still cannot get over the horror of those two children who tortured those other kids in Edmington. It is Lord of the Files, but the awfulness ...

I watched The Road, yesterday. It was a painful film to watch, and while i watched it i wondered, did i really need to see another one of these things? Sometimes i wonder if after a certain age, all the books, and all the films and all the music you hear just makes you wonder, "What's the point?" After a certain age, it feels as if you've seen and done everything you need to do and if you went beyond that threshold it was either dangerous or pointless. That's terrible, isn't it? I don't want to think or feel like that. I want to feel that newness, that thrill that i felt when i discovered the world, the way children discover the world, but the truth is that kind of wonder is for the young. I go to town now and i think, i'm not really interested in doing anything, apart from having some time on my own. Apart from that, everything else is fluff. I'm sure it's just a phase. I hope it is. I was reading about The Road, a book i don't really want...

It's been so warm lately. Around 7 degrees. We went for a walk on Saturday and i couldn't get over how it was positively balmy. And it wasn't just me that thought so. Everyone else remarked how they were so pleasantly surprised with the sudden thaw. No flood have materialised in Belfast, despite the snow we had. Having spent such a long time on line now, i'm getting a bit tired of the on line nature of my life. I'm realising that i spend waaaaay too much time doing things like Facebook and not enough in the real world. So, i must stop spending all this time. I am so delighted when i see the red little icon flashing to tell me the number of messages i've received from people. I think i'll just check Facebook intermittently from now on and spend a bit more time putting photos on the blog. Especially for Ma and Pa. I'm reading from Ella young's Celtic Wonder Tales, a series of stories about the Da Dannan. The kids think it's ok, but i love it. Ella ...

I love Monteverdi. The actual composer and his music. It is both intricate and simple at the same time. Simple because it respects the silences that the delicate patterns and structures rely on. Like cut glass or Alhambra lattice work. It is music that lived in a time when that sort of peace was possible. Imagine living then, in the 16th century. When the only artificial sound was that of a human being playing an instrument or singing. No electronic beeps, children's toys, mobile phones, engines droning. The world as clear and beautiful and unmuddied as a still pool. I know i'm idealising it, but i so long for that kind of peace, that solid silence which is organic, not unbreakable, but that weaves itself into the day, into life and gives the soul a place to rest, to tarry a while, and then to get up and walk on, refreshed. I drove through the heart of Northern Ireland yesterday. Loughmacrory somewhere between Omagh, Cookstown and Dungannon, the stony heart of the Sperrins. It ...

The boys are watching Back to the Future Part 3 for the twentieth time. The bit where Doc goes back to good ol 1885 and converts and steam train to state of the art steampunk train. It's so cool. I love the steam train and i wouldn't have if i didn't have boys. Went running past the Lock Keeper's Cottage/Inn today. It was Monday was the place was closed. Service was always pretty crap, and the revelations of the past week explains it really. It seems it serves up a good Orange Tart. Belvoir Park was pretty much as it always has been for the last few decades. Or maybe not. I don't know cos i haven't been here for decades, but for the past seven years at least. People walking dogs, people in umbrellas, people just getting out and about. A cormorant sat at Shaw's Bridge, hoping for a few fish. The snow was melting. Bits were still slippery or slippy as they say here, not caring that it is not a word that does not exist outside of Ireland. Slippy. We seem to be ...

Ghin and Oisin give an interview about the recent birthday celebrations... here .

The washing machine's outlet pipe has frozen. This means that we cannot actually drain the machine. Does this imply no laundry being done till March? Because if it does then we need to ration the use of clothes, underwear especially. At St George's market yesterday all the traders looked frozen. There weren't too many people by way of punters and if it wasn't for the bacon and eggs and veggies i probably wouldn't have been there. At Tescos though, people were frantically buying things, pushing carts around and almost elbowing each other to get the shopping done. There was a mild business like hysteria, just a smidgen, like when you're standing in a queue and not quite sure if the counter will be closing soon. I got myself bedroom slippers which came up to my calves. These mornings leave my feet frozen and i don't thaw until i have woken up. Socks weren't really doing the job either. My toes now sit snug and slightly sweaty in the fluffy feet mits. Oisin...

Roxxxy is a sex toy robot. She can't cook or hoover but can do everything else, if you know what i mean, said her inventor. Welcome to the brave new world. Despite being quite new, it isn't really brave, because, women are still being relegated to the roles of hoovering, cooking and sexing. Note he did not say having a deep and meaningful relationship or can't fall in love with you, or can't bear you children, or take part in the Iowa caucus. It was Hoovering and cooking. Actually he sad tidying the house. You can programme her with different personalities. Mature Martha, or Frigid Farrah. Martha would say, i love holding your hand. Farrah would say What are you going to do with that hand? Presumedly not in a porn star way. If this is progress, then please pass the remote.

There is universal disdain for Iris Robinson and her husband...what's his name again? There is no one i have met who has gone, oh poor things. In fact people are even more disgusted over her whole mental health breakdown and that staged near sobbing which took place with that crocheted doily about daddy in the background. After watching the Spotlight programme a few things are clear to me. First, that Kirk will have to move to some atoll in the South Pacific, change his name, get facial reconstruction surgery, change his gender, etc. Poor lad. That's who i feel really sorry for now. Hopefully the Daily Mirror are offering him more money to buy some more kitchen equipment and furniture - and a bit on the side for all those other things he needs to do if he wants to ever date again. Secondly, that people like the Robinsons live in a world that is delusional, corrupt, incestuous and with no sense of personal accountability to anyone. There are rules, but so what? There is a peace ...

We have such incredible weather lately. It snowed yesterday and the snow then stayed. It stayed soft and fluffy and Scandinavian and everywhere was so beautiful. And so it was for Ghin's third birthday. My baby is three. If i could i would have another one, but it's just not responsible. So i won't. But bringing up a child is one of the most incredible and miraculous things i have ever done. When so much comes out of the mind, with a child everything is united. Body, mind and soul. You are on a path which is forward and present at the same time. The are no manuals or texts. There are no guarantees. All you have are the whisperings from the ages past, and your own template, and your own hopes and fears - and doing what is right - or what you think is right, and then the failure of not being able to do what is right all the time. Then there's the not blaming yourself... which hasn't really happened as yet... sometimes i think that i encountered zen so that i could cop...

Eating the last of the urad dhall. I made it according to this Hari Krishna recipe. I really craved this during my first three months of pregnancy - which is NOT to say that i'm pregnant now - honest. But this may be the reason why Ghin loves curry. Even hot ones. It's really weird and funny. He'll take a scoop and then shout hot hot!!! and dowse it with water and then start all over again. The both boys are incredible fun and we went swimming today. They always over chlorinate the pools here. You feel like the Auschwitz inmates for the first three minutes. Then you get used to it. It cannot be good for people who have to work there. I actually gave UP swimming during my pregnancy with Oisin for that reason alone. That and the City Baths in Derry were like something out of Angela's Ashes. What a mash up eh? Auschwitz feat Angela's Ashes. It is really really really cold. The coldest winter since 1982 or something like that. This is clearly a great opportunity to co...

by Mechthild of Magdeburg In the desert, Turn toward emptiness, Fleeing the self. Stand alone, Ask no one’s help, And your being will quiet, Free from the bondage of things. Those who cling to the world, Endeavor to free them; Those who are free, praise. Care for the sick, But live alone, Happy to drink from the waters of sorrow, To kindle Love’s fire With the twigs of a simple life. Thus you will live in the desert. ---------------------- I discovered this poet today. What a manifesto, eh?

Woke up today and did some writing, and then Ghin began crying, so i had to go back up again. He turns three at the end of this week, and i suppose at some stage i need to have him sleeping in his own bed properly. We did a half hearted attempt. It is utterly my fault because there is nothing quite like cuddling up to a sleeping baby. But he is not a baby any longer and i must start letting go. They came back yesterday around seven and Ghin had spent a good deal of the journey home screaming for the Donegal house. It generally goes I WANT DONEGAL HOUSE!!! I WANT DONEGAL HOUSE!!! In much the same way I WANT XYZ. When i hear Ghin screaming this, it simply reaffirms my belief that consummerism is the infantile stage writ large. A child only knows I WANT, and sometimes these things are impossible or even dangerous for them, but they still go I WANT. Their temper tantrums remind me of the temper tantrums that divas or people in managerial positions sometimes have. The stamping of the feet a...

Here, in 2003, La Touche talks about the retardation of growth... this was written in the age of High Consummerism. If we had listened then, we'd not be in the mess we are now... and we need to start cleaning it all up... so this article is still good. The world downscaled (whole article) - Serge Latouche "The growth society causes inequality and injustice to rise; the well-being it does produce is often illusory; even for the rich, society is neither convivial nor agreeable, but an anti-society, sick with its own wealth. The high quality of life that most people in the North believe that they enjoy is increasingly an illusion. They may spend more on consumer goods and services, but they forget to deduct the costs of these things: reductions in the quality of life because of poor air and water and a degraded environment. These increase the costs of modern living (medicine, transport), including that of products made scarcer (water, energy, open spaces)." ... Excerpts ...

I know i've been banging on and on about Avatar because mainly it is happening now, not in some distant past, but right here and right now. I found this on the web. So here are two of them, written already. I've decided to put my money where my mouth with and start reading up and maybe at some stage being able to do something about the indigenous people who live in these astonishing scared places. I don't care if i'm effective or not. The point is that i'm going to be doing something. The Real Avatar Here's the end of the article the journalist wrote: "While the film Avatar ends with the indigenous aliens securing their home from corporate and military invaders, in reality that outcome is rare. Often these conflicts drag on for decades with the indigenous tribes, despite best efforts, tragically losing their home bit-by-bit. Forests are decimated, biodiversity lost, carbon released into the atmosphere, and the tribe is slowly weakened and destroyed from wit...

Strange are the decrees of fate. Behold the large eyes of the deer! Yet he is forced to roam the forests. The harsh crane has brilliant plumage, While the sweet-voiced cuckoo is black. The rivers flow in pure streams, But the sea makes them salt. Fools sit on thrones as kings, While the wise beg their bread. Mira's lord is the courtly Giridhara: The king persecutes the Bhaktas. Mirabai

The kids and Peter went to panto in Derry yesterday early evening. After they went i managed to indue amild headache by watching 9 hours of TV straight. Yep, that's nine hours. I began with No Country For Old Men, then Scrooged, followed by Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee, Father Ted, Black Books and finally Cider House Rules. It was something which i hadn't done for a long time and it was weird being able to just sit and watch one thing after another, not get up, not have to something for someone else, not feel guilty that you're not doing something 'worthy' for the children... i did feel guilty that i wasn't doing something useful - like cleaning the house or writing a novel, but it seemed impossible, the TV pulling me in, saying what about this, and this and this... TV Must Watch Less. It's not like we didn't watch TV while the kids were here. But so often with the TV when it's on when the kids re on, i'm cooking or doing the laundry or doing so...

I spent all of yesterday thinking it was Saturday and when i woke today to discover today was Saturday it was like winning the lotto. I didn't get the cleaning i wanted to do done, simply because, unless i plan to throw away most of the toys in the house, it will never be clean. Although Oisin did clean his desk, which was astonishing. And he cooked breakfast today. Porridge. He is becoming a real man. Some day he will make a partner very happy. Many of my friends report back from the front lines of motherhood. I am especially interested in the stories women tell about older boys. A friend told me about her well trained son.Oh that's excellent i said, i'm sure his girlfriend is thrilled with that. Flip, i'd say she is, especially since she can't do very much herself.  This seems to be a prevailing trend. Girls who cannot do much around the house. This is a definite step backwards. Doing stuff for yourself in the house is a lifeskill. EVERYONE should be able to do so...