issue 1 september 2011 always free

The Vision

Inspired Community Magazine is a non-commercial, non-subject-driven, free community magazine to be enjoyed and shared. The vision is for Inspired Community Magazine to be a positive and uplifting contribution to the community, to be enjoyed and passed on. It is also an opportunity for people to express their own creativity and inspiration by contributing to further issues... giving, purely for the joy of it.

The community in question is a community of shared inspiration, those who are inspired by reading and those who are inspired to contribute. This is your magazine. Please enjoy the articles and stories and other features in it. If you are inspired to contribute something to further issues, your inspiration is welcome here. You can contribute something on any subject you are inspired to present, in whatever form you are inspired to present it, e.g. poem, story, article, anecdote, photo, art work, etc. Please send your contribution by e-mail to inspiredcommunitymagazine@gmailcom.

Inspired Community Magazine is by the community for the community. As long as people want to read it and are inspired to contribute to it, Inspired Community Magazine will be here.

cover photo - rossbeigh strand, co. kerry - by tara

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I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community, and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live.

George Bernard Shaw

Morning Glory

Eeeeyaaah…..Yawn…stretch….ahhhhh. Conciousness slowly returns to the body after the night’s sleep. Deep and dreamless. The warmth of the bed, the gentle sounds of my wife sleeping. The baby, so relaxed, so beautiful, so sweet. The toddler, snoring lightly. Sleepy sounds coming from the other rooms in the house. A snuggle of gratitude and contentment with my wife before rising to greet the day. There is so much to be thankful for, and the day has hardly begun.

Morning ablutions, tip toe downstairs and out, barefoot, into the garden. Morning dew caresses my toes and feet. So wonderfully refreshing. I place my hands on the grass, the earth, feeling the coolness, the wet, the energy. A moment of reflection: not a single molecule or atom of this body comes from anywhere but the quiet earth. All of my nourishment comes from her body. A deep breath of gratitude. I love you mother.

The reflection takes me deeper. Bodies, plants, animals, all life on this planet, comes and goes, returning to the earth. Maybe planets come and go on longer cycles. Appearances come, appearances go. What is this incredible silent intelligence from which all manifestations come and to which all manifestations return? …What, or who is this appearance that I call me?

Silence takes me momentarily, no mind, no thought … Quiet joy, inner knowing, and then, the day takes me in its arms.

Tomas

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The Importance of Showing Up

Sometimes it is only when we live without something that we can ful ly appreciate how precious it is. Wh i l e l i v i ng abroad for some years, I came

to realise a lot of wonderful things about Dublin city that I seemed to have overlooked or had just taken for granted before. I never really took advantage of living by the sea, for example. And I never appreciated just how near everything is when you travel by bike, and how much more of the city you see that way. But most of all, I found there was a hidden wealth of events and public resources, none of them expensive, most of them free, and ranging across music festivals, art exhibitions, sculpture, architecture, history and heritage.

Whenever I was making visits home, and especially now that I have moved back again, I have enjoyed attending a wide range of activities and events and just soaking up the city’s culture and heritage.

Like me, I think many Dubliners take these cultural resources for granted. To ensure that the range of events and cultural resources available in Dublin continue to enrich the city, it is up to us to show that there is a demand for them. How do we do that? Just show up. Sit in on a free talk, stroll up to an open air stage, or walk through an art gallery on your way across town, and you can help make sure that these important cultural amenities remain a part of city life.

~ ~ ~

There is one event, the very function of which seems to be to remind us what fantastic resources we have at our disposal, and that is Culture Night. It takes place around the end of September each year. Now a nationwide event, you will find art galleries, museums and heritage sites open for one extra-late night each year. Special film screenings, music performances and other one-off events make it impossible to fit in all that you would love to see. To get the most out of this one night, pick out two or three special events in advance and then pop into nearby venues in-between. The struggle to cram everything into this special one-off event teaches us we should take advantage of these invaluable resources and amenities throughout the rest of the year!

For theatre-lovers, the Dublin Fringe Festival runs throughout the city each September. The Fringe Festival celebrates new works and often stages them in innovative and unusual places. This year’s

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festival includes a mass darning event (with free ‘darning needle for life’ provided!), a performance in a Gresham Hotel room and, perhaps most curiously, a collection of installations which will be located in the changing rooms of clothes shops around the city.

This autumn also sees a number of new cultural enterprises which I’m sure will make a welcome add i t ion to c i ty l i fe . PhizzFest is a two-day festival of music and culture in the middle of September. Launched just last year, this mini-festival features free walks, talks and concer ts in and around Phibsborough, just outside the city centre. In October, keep an eye out for Dublin Contemporary, an

exhibition showcasing contemporary art in galleries across the city. October, of course, also sees the return of Dublin Dockland's Bavarian-style Oktoberfest. And as a mark of German efficiency, this year's Oktoberfest will begin in late September!

Of Dublin’s art galleries, I always try to get out to the Irish Museum of Modern Art in Kilmainham at least once a year. It’s a little further out of the way than the city centre galleries, but always worth the trip. Meanwhile, the Open House festival of architecture will be taking place all over Dublin early in October. And for the remainder of 2011, the Office of Public Works are hosting OPW Free First Wednesdays each month, giving free admission to all heritage sites. No doubt, good attendance will encourage them to continue it into 2012! You might visit Dublin Castle or Kilmainham Gaol, or if you’re happy to wander a little further afield, the unmissable Newgrange site in County Meath.

If literature inspires you, Sweny’s Pharmacy at the top of Westland Row celebrate their place in James Joyce’s most famous work, Ulysses, by hosting readings from the book every Thursday evening and Saturday morning. >>>

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A c o m m u n i t y i s l i k e a s h i p ; e v e r y o n e o u g h t t o b e p r e p a r e d t o t a k e t h e h e l m .

H e n r i k I b s e n

river liffey - dublin

As a musician myself, there are a particular range of events and organisations that I keep a regular eye on to see what exciting things they are up to all year round. The Bottlenote Collective is made up of many highly talented and creative individuals broadly working in the area of jazz and improvised music.

The eclectic music club Kaleidoscope Night takes place on the first Wednesday of every month in the Odessa Club off George’s Street. A Kaleidoscope concert typically includes classical, folk and world music, all in the informal setting of a city centre pub. Another monthly event I never miss (since I am a member myself) is the Irish Composers’ Collective concert series. As the only regular platform for the music of Ireland’s young composers, these concerts can contain seven or eight world premieres in a single evening.

One of the most interesting organisations I have come across in recent months is the Friends of Medieval Dublin. During the later summer and autumn months they host regular talks, appropriately enough underneath a portion of the original Norman wall, inside the Wood Quay civic offices. During our national Heritage Week at the end of August they also give free walking tours of Dublin. I’ve really enjoyed the various Heritage Week walking tours and learned a lot from them. For some thirty odd years it seems I have been walking past Dublin’s ancient walls, hidden towers and street names without ever really noticing them. Now, seeing them with fresh eyes, I see the city in a whole new light, through many layers of history, whether it’s the streets that formed the boundaries of the surprisingly tiny medieval city, or the 1916 escape route from the GPO, through Moore Lane, which still conceals the blocked-up doorways and the original cobble streets from that time.

~ ~ ~

All of these musicians, artists and historians help to make Dublin more than just the place where we sleep and work. Dublin is alive with culture and heritage. Don’t wait to leave the country to appreciate what is right here on our doorstep. Ensuring that these events continue to make their vital contributions to enriching our city is an easy job to do. There is no need to write to TDs or sign petitions; all that is required is to show up. Take in a free concert, or an art exhibition, or learn about the weird and wonderful history that is all around us. Bring a picnic, bring the kids - just show up!!

Peter

To find out more about the events mentioned above, click any of the underlined terms.

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Beer and GarlicSince ancient times, that is, since I was a baby, I remember that herbs were used in our kitchen. Little did I know what magic was going on. An everyday gesture of a sprinkle of oregano in the Spaghetti Bolognese, a dash of cinnamon over the apples, my beloved thyme in the chicken soup… such common kitchen practices, all little acts of natural magic. It took me many years of eating, smelling, savouring and experiencing colourful culinary delights before I realised that there was something more to herbs than being mere taste enhancers.

Everyone knows that garlic is supposed to ward off Evil, at least Blood Suck ing Vampi res ! Interestingly, unassuming garlic, (well, maybe not to the ones who didn’t partake in the meal) is in fact a great remedy to deal with blood issues. A well-known purifier of the blood, it is a great agent to reduce cholesterol. So yes, garlic does protect your blood (vessels). It also wards off parasites, worms and other unpleasant visitors. Recently it has come in the spotlight as an anti-carcinogen. So many benefits has the humble garlic bulb that it is probably one of the most used herbs on the planet.

Slowly, over the millennia, a herbal culture appeared all over the world, where people started using herbs, not so much to enhance tastes, even though they do this beautifully, but to increase and protect our health. It intertwined so gradually with food preparation that for most of us, the medicinal aspect of cooking with herbs all but disappeared.

Yet there are very ancient texts as old as 4000BC from Ancient China describing the medicinal value of some herbs. To the West we have famous Ancient Greek Philosopher-Healers such as Hippocrates, one of the founders of Western medicine, who described the value of good medicinal practice as well as prescribing herbs. During our collective histories, herbs have come to our rescue, and our knowledge has grown and deepened. Different cultures had different insights, and so we have Chinese medicine, Ayurvedic medicine from India, Unnani from Tibet, and Western herbalism… all growing in knowledge and having different viewing angles.

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It is only in the last two centuries, since the Industrial Revolution, that herbal traditions have become obscured. But recently, there is a blossoming Renaissance of herbal culture, both culinary and medicinal, as the Communication Revolution of the 21st Century has contributed to create a super amalgamated understanding of herbs.

Air travel has played an important role in allowing once foreign herbs and foods to now be delivered on our doorstep, on a daily basis. I for one, as a food lover, am immensely grateful for the addition of coriander to my diet. Yet another apparently unassuming herb, and yet, what spirit! Got some mercury toxicity? Troubled with heavy metals, from mercury fillings, mercury-rich fish, lead in plumbing…? Coriander is at your rescue! Imagine, heavy metals are so hard to get rid of. They squat in your fatty cells and refuse to budge despite persistent calls from the immune police, yet coriander will oust it. Coriander is also a brilliant digestive aid, treats dysentery, lowers cholesterol, can help conjunctivitis, can stop heavy menstrual bleeding… it’s hard to imagine that something so fragile-looking can be so potent, and yet it is.

Note: The symptoms of metal toxicity can be vague, so don’t self-diagnose. The symptoms to look out for are headaches, irritability, general malaise, brain fog, bowel issues, aches and pains, fatigue, and inability to concentrate… (but no, not due to that other herb, fermented hops = beer!). My personal advice in case of metal toxicity is to have the source e.g. mercury filling, lead plumbing etc. removed prior to opting for therapeutic measures.

And to return to the topic of beer… not such a bad beverage after all. In the Middle Ages it was preferred to water as a safe drink, and it's full of B Vitamins from the yeasts. Hops itself has calming and relaxing properties, a popular nervine herb, great for the soothing of a stressful day. All in moderation of course!

The more I learn, the more I am impressed with the vast array of uses for herbs, as well as discovering more soulful aspects. It’s not just that they have often a researched record of effectiveness; there is a liveliness in herbs, a spirit, something that can talk to our troubles, communicate and - to use that forbidden word - heal.

We are surrounded by wonderful mysteries, that have disguised themselves in humble cloth, and yet these humble herbs are our teachers and our healers.

May Your Path be enhanced by Fragrant and Restoring Herbs, and may they Bless your Health.Marianne

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Simplicity

Our day is but a path we treadA gentle walk among possibilitiesWe are not promised tomorrow.In all its beauty and complexity

Today is all we have

We become artistsWhen we see with our hearts

And not our eyes

To make the acquaintance of a treeIs to gain the counsel

Of a wise and compassionate friend

Ask large questionsSeek small answers

For there the secret lies

I watch the songbirds at the feeder nowThey move in a flurry and peck at the seed.

Man looks for God and thinks of Him concealedBut in earth’s common things He stands revealed.

by Daphne

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LESSONS IN HISTORY FROM THE FUTURE

Jaysus, I had a mad dream last night!

Oh yeah, how did it go?

Well, I was nine years old and back in school, the year was 2060, and the subject was modern history…………………

Okay children settle down, class is about to start. Today we are going to look at justice in the modern Irish Economic Zone. Can anyone tell me who, or what, the statue in the city centre commemorates, and what is it holding?

Miss, Miss, me, Miss.

Little Johnny.

That’s the statue of Alan Shatter, Miss.

Very good, and what is he holding?

A jewel-encrusted watch, Miss.

Very good, does anyone know what it commemorates? No? Well I’ll tell you, it stands for justice, determination and the relentless pursuit of fair play by the state on behalf of its citizens.

How is that, Miss?

Well children, we only have an hour, that is for those of you who only have the means to attend the one-hour-a-week, state-sponsored, free education, fondly referred to as the Ruairi Quinn Hour. So I’ll keep it short, the government and bankers in the first decade of the century drove the country into debt. There were noises about justice, fairness and accountability, but nothing seemed to happen. Those in power at the time had a history of setting up long-running tribunals that lasted longer than most people or their memories could last. Even if anyone remembered, nothing from the tribunal could be used in court. This method was used to dupe the citizens and cover up all kinds of scams, but that’s another class. Things were about to change, a new government was elected, promises were made about health and education and there was a new dawn for justice. Alan Shatter, appointed Minister for Justice in the new cabinet, saw the crimes committed against the Irish people and decided to put things right.

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What did he do, Miss?

With great resolve he got to the bottom of the matter and swiftly implemented a recompense that would satisfy justice and fair play.

What happened, Miss?

He set out to get Michael Fingleton’s watch back.

Noooo, Miss!!!!

Yes he did. And did he get the watch back? Yes he did, but sadly the jewels were all gone. Don’t look so despondent children, he tried, which is more than anyone else did …. now we’ve also touched on the meaning of a fingleton, it is one who knows where the bodies are buried ... So the watch recovery was a failure, but a noble failure. And it paved the way for the Varadkar Law. That’s the law that started out banning smoking in cars with under 15’s.

Started out, Miss?

Yes, it quickly moved to covering all dependents, which due to economic circumstances turned out to be children up to 50 ....

No more questions now, we’re running out of time, I just want to go through some of your homework answers from last week.

Yes, Ruairi Quinn is known for the quote, “You can get a lot done in an hour”.

Yes, it was Enda Kenny who said, “Just because I said it, doesn’t mean I meant it”. Well done little Mike from Roscommon, your people have long memories.

Yes, most of you got the first part of question 3 right. The Irish Economic Zone’s anthem is “Ireland’s Small”, not “Ireland’s Call”. But you failed to get the reason. It doesn’t refer to Ireland’s size but commemorates the selling off of Ireland’s coastline and forests to private investors to service the national debt. The country shrank.

Next week we are going to look at how the Enda government, tired of implementing ECB, IMF directives fought back, how they drew the line at Irish politicians’ wages and said NO TO CUTS !!

………………… and then I woke up sweating. That was not a dream, that was a feckin’ Nightmare.

Paul

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CHOCOLATE AND COCONUT FUDGE

This is the easiest, nicest and healthiest recipe ever! I have to thank Joan, my mother in law, for passing on this great recipe. It’s full of protein, essential fats (omegas); good for your heart, brain and bones.

• 1 lb (450gr) of mixed nuts and seeds, finely ground : almond, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, hazelnut, brazil nuts …

• ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon• 2 tablespoon extra virgin coconut oil • 2 teaspoon of tahini• 1 oz xylitol (or 2 tablespoon honey or agave syrup)• 150 gr good quality dark chocolate (75% cocoa)

1.Melt the chocolate, tahini, xylitol and the coconut oil, placing then in a bowl in a saucepan with boiling water (“bain marie”)

2.Stir in the seeds and nuts plus cinnamon. Mix well3. Press the mixture in a lightly greased and lined tin and

chill in the fridge 2-3h until firm. Cut in small bars or square

Note: Xylitol is a naturally occurring sugar substitute that is found in many plants, and has the same sweetness as sugar, but it doesn't upset blood sugar levels. In fact, you would have to eat a whopping nine spoonfuls of xylitol to have the same effect on your blood sugar levels as just one teaspoonful of sugar! This makes it ideal for dieters and diabetics. Xylitol is also naturally antibacterial, so it prevents bacteria from adhering to your teeth and helps you to avoid tooth decay.

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KALE CHEESE PIE

This recipe works also very well with chard or spinach instead of kale. Kale is spectacularly nutritious because it has rich supplies of minerals.

• 6 cups cooked kale (or chard or spinach) well drained• 2 cups of low-fat cottage cheese • 2-3 eggs beaten• Juice of half lemon• Salt and pepper • Pinch nutmeg• 1 cup whole-grain breadcrumbs• Olive oil• Paprika

Preheat the oven at 180ºC

1.Beat together the cottage cheese, eggs, lemon, salt, pepper and nutmeg

2.Stir this mixture with the kale (cut in small pieces)3. Press down in a well geased 8”x8” pan or cake tin4.Mix the breadcrumbs with a bit of olive oil and sprinkle on

top along with the paprika5.Bake for half an hour, or until set. Allow to stand several

min before cutting

Carmen

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Anthony’s Odyssey

Every living being in this world is knowingly or unknowingly on a spiritual pilgrimage - Sathya Sai Baba

Anthony draws a deep determined breath. He pulls on and laces up New Balance cross-trainers. It’s a warm August evening, the first training of the season for his Under-18 soccer team, the Glasnevin Odyssey.

“Listen up!” announces the coach. “You’ve had three months of spoiling yourselves over the summer. That has to be shaken off before the first game in two weeks. You want to have a good season? You want to get results? Then get fit. There’s a mountain to climb and it starts here. Get going!”

With a boom of boots on bare earth and a yell of encouraging cries, twenty hopeful heroes charge to the playing fields of Johnstown Park in North Dublin.

“Right! Laps around the pitch!” instructs the coach. “At the first whistle, sprint. At the second, jog. Off you go.”

Off they go, sprinting, jogging, sprinting, jogging, running, heaving, panting, lap after lap.

“Everyone over here! Two lines. First two, sprint to the cone and back. Next two, sprint and back. Ready?! Pheeeep!”

Sprint and back, sprint and back. Catch up! Move it! Sprint and sprint, muscles burning, gasping, aching. Off to the side there’s a casualty. Anthony doubled over, throwing up.

“Better out than in, Anto!” call his team-mates.“Tom, go over and make sure he’s okay, will you.”

Tom pats Anto on the back, looking down at the ground.

“Are yeh alright there, son?”“Ugh Jeyz, I don’t remember eating that.”“Come on, yeh’ll be grand. Who told you this’d be easy? Keep going.”

“Right, more laps!” demands the coach. “This time when I shout one, jump and head to the right. When I call two, jump and head left. Three, jump and head forward. Four, turn around and sprint back. Got it? Ready?! Go!…One!…Two!…One!…Four!”

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A crash of jumping and running bodies.

“WAKE UP! Concentrate. You need a fit body and a fit brain to play this game. There’s five minutes to go in a match. You’re defending a one goal lead and the opposition is all over you. That last five minutes is what you’re training for. Your body is exhausted but your brain still has to work. You have to keep playing and keep making good decisions. Got it? Go again!…One!…Two!…Four!…GOOD!!

§

A convoy of crammed cars pulls up along the roadside of Johnstown Park. The Under-18s of Glasnevin Odyssey tumble out, pouring onto the pitches to play the opening game of the season.

“Who is this crowd we’re playing today?”“Carrauntoohil United.”“Car and two hills!? What the hell is that?” wails Peadar Scully. “I hope these aren’t culchies. I’m not playing them if they come out in wellies!”“Ha! You’re right, Scully. Here comes the team tractor. It must be them.”“Hey Scully, I thought you said your da was from Kerry. That makes you a culchie.”“Ah stop, I’ve never been to Kerry. There’s only big bloody mountains down there.”

“Gather round, lads”, calls the coach, bringing the team in a circle. “You know what’s expected of you today. Work for each other. Work hard. And keep going for ninety minutes.”

Glasnevin start well, but slowly the opposing team begin to dominate. There’s a fast break on the right wing.

“Pick it up, Anto. Don’t let him past you so easy.”

The coach turns to his assistant, shaking his head.

“That winger Anto’s marking is too fast for him.”“Do you want to put someone quicker on in his place?”“Wait, give him five minutes. If he can’t handle it, I’ll bring him off.”

Two or three times Anthony runs tight up to the fast running winger of Carrauntoohil but gets easily beaten each time. His game is nearly over. Then a change of strategy. Don’t dive in and give him an easy option to run past. Don’t be afraid of him. Face him. Okay then, I’ll race you, but on my terms.

Soon again the ball falls to the pacy winger.

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“Close him down, Anto. Go to him. What are yeh doing?”

Anthony holds his ground two metres away from the winger. The winger taps the ball forward, inviting Anthony to dive in. He doesn’t. He steps back. Come and race me now. The winger has nowhere else to go. He chips the ball towards the corner flag and sprints after it. But Anthony has a two metre head start. He wins the race and clears the ball to safety.

“Yep”, nods the coach. “He’s got him”.

Anthony’s winger is kept quiet for the remainder of the game. It stays scoreless for eighty minutes until Carrauntoohil are awarded a penalty. Carrauntoohil win the game one-nil.

§

The new year sees Glasnevin languishing in the lower half of the league. A couple of good wins in the Percy Veeran Cup has kept them going. The twenty hopeful heroes of a warm August evening have been hardened down to twelve weary warriors taking to a freezing February field in Neilstown.

The going is grim. At half-time the wind is blowing cold and raining hard into the players’ faces. Glasnevin are losing two-nil.

“Don’t give up”, encourages the coach in a teeming team talk. “If you think this match is over, then you’re right. It is over. But if you think we can get back into it, then you’re right again. We can get back into it. You decide what’s going to happen.”

The coach looks each player in the eye.

“What about you, Anto? Do you think we can we get back into this?”“I don’t know”, sighs an exhausted Anthony. “We’re two goals behind and it’s hard going out there.”“Keep at it, okay. Keep making the right effort and the result will take care of itself.”

From the restart, Glasnevin press. Anthony swings a wide pass out to Stewie Emerson charging up the right wing. The Neilstown left-back attacks him, sliding across the slick surface. Emerson skips inside to avoid the tackle. He looks across. He fires the ball low and hard into the path of the on-running Peadar Scully. Scully hits it first time, right bootlaces through the ball, down low, bottom corner. Goal! Two-one.

Through the second half, Glasnevin play with the driving wind at their backs. They continue to pile on the pressure but the season-

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saving equaliser evades them. With five minutes to play, Glasnevin are camped in the Neilstown half. The ball breaks again to Emerson on the wing. This is it.

“Cross! Cross!”

Emerson crosses the ball high into the crowded box. Anthony climbs highest. He leans back on the high cross. Bang! The contact is good but the ball flies high and wide of the goal. Alas, it is the last chance of the game. The referee blows the final whistle and Glasnevin are knocked out of the Cup.

“How did you miss that header?” groans Scully on the way home in the car.

Anthony shrugs his shoulders.

“You all played well”, says the coach. “Sometimes you don’t get the result you expect. That’s all. Don’t worry about it, Anto.”

“Don’t worry about it?!” exclaims Scully. “He doesn’t look too worried. We’ve lost everything. We’re out of the league, out of the Cup. Our season’s over.”

“Oh! Turn that radio up”, interrupts the coach suddenly. “I love Bob Dylan.”

“Aw no, PLEASE … not that old-fashioned music now. I’m too depressed already.” moans Scully.

“Turn it up”, insists the coach, starting to sing.

“There’s a lone soldier on the cross, Smoke pouring out of a boxcar door. You didn’t know it, you didn’t think it could be done, In the final end he won the war After losing every battle... Idiot Wind…”

Scully jabs a gentle elbow into Anto’s ribs.

“You’re an Idiot Wind for missing that header. That’s our season finished.”

He shakes his head, looking despondently away.

“And what a waste of a season it’s been.”

“Has it?”

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§

Anthony stands and scans the grand arena. Wow. He draws a deep determined breath and exhales expectantly. He pulls on and laces up Salomon Quest hiking boots. High above and all around him mass the majestic MacGillicuddy Reeks. Far away, rising into the shining summer sky stands the serene summit of Ireland’s highest mountain.

Anthony shrugs his small backpack onto his shoulders and starts to hike. He is quiet and alone on his journey. Every step and every breath move with the slow sway of tall grass, the whisper of hillside wind and the gentle nodding ripples on the surface of Lough Iochtair. The delicate melody of chirruping birdsong lilts around Coomloughta Glen, echoing far into the distant silence of the expansive landscape. Anthony surveys the vast scene, an invisible, invincible dot in its midst. All-knowing, Ireland’s highest mountain calls him on.

Anthony treks past lakes and land and rocks and bog, and up the tough ascent towards the midway mark of Caher. He scales the steep spur, digging deep, forging forward with every striving effort. On top of Caher he takes his rest. Two hours of climbing lie behind, two more hours ahead. The far fields of Iveragh are faded shades and hazy in the distance as Anthony climbs high into another world. He looks across. The high mountain peak along the horseshoe line of Caher Ridge is quiet and clear, awaiting his advent.

As the horseshoe ridge leans left, the track darkens to a dangerous cliff. The challenge deepens, heartbeat quickens. The walking way becomes an uncertain spray of rocks and loose stones. Anthony deftly steps along, fit and fearless, striding onwards to the top. Swathes of golden sunlight stream around him. An easy feeling of dream-like peace and deep well-being envelopes him like a shroud. The final height is within reach. He softly steps on the welcoming widening path, levelling out to receive him. Nothing remains above or beyond. Only blue sky. Finally, silently, stridingly, he reaches the radiant mountain top and the high shining cross that marks the highest point in Ireland.

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the high cross - carrauntoohil - co. kerry

Anthony stands still. He breathes in the high mountain air - Ireland’s highest breath. Joyful sky birds chirp and play and sail and tail on the lifting wind. A fussing fly buzzes by. The sweet breeze kisses and whispers. Ireland shimmers, glistening in the distance. Quietly and contentedly, Anthony seats himself at the highest point, a silent soul in a sea of stillness. He breathes the rested breath of effort’s end. He leans back on the high cross and hums a song, “Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb…” and he smiles to himself at the final end of a very good season.

Shay

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T he r ea l voyage o f d i s cove ry cons i s t s no t i n s eek ing new l andscapes bu t i n hav i ng new eyes .

Marce l P rous t

Being Human

The teacher stands at the top of her class of unruly junior infant boys. “Okay, we're going to play the Silence Game. The first one to speak loses.” One gruff four-year-old raises his hand. “I don't want to play.” “That's fine” says the teacher “but you have to sit quietly while the others play.” The boy agrees. The game begins and the boy sits quietly while the rest of the class plays the Silence Game. Not a sound is heard. Not a pin drops. Eyes flick from one to another. Silence reigns in the classroom. The boy raises his hand again. “What is it?” asks the teacher. “Can I play?”

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