Life is full of surprises. We never know at any moment what might happen within the next hour. A life can change in an instant. One day, I had a coffee beside a woman I’d never met before. Within a week I had met her friend. Within a few very short months I asked her friend to marry me. She said yes. Had I not attended the course at which I met her friend, had I chosen tea instead of coffee, had I sat in a different seat, my whole life would have been different. Let’s live this day attentive to the extraordinary possibilities of every moment.
Author Archives: Joe Armstrong
Setting out on a journey
There’s an excitement in embarking on many a journey, akin to the adventure of life itself. Indeed, life it often seen as a journey. When I studied English at university, I remember being struck by an Old English poem about seafaring. In Ireland, the story of St Brendan taking to the seas and discovering America many, many years before Columbus, appeals to that sense of adventure, exploration and embarking into the unknown. As we set out on any journey, we cannot be sure of the outcomes of that adventure. Boats are safe in a harbour but that’s not what boats are for. So, wherever you may be heading today, if anywhere, enjoy the adventure! Bon voyage!
Valentine’s Day
Yes, I know it’s tomorrow and not today. But Valentine’s Day offers us a moment to pause and be thankful for love. We aspire towards love. We desire it. We search for a soul mate and, when we are lucky enough to find the love of our life, it is only fitting that we put a little time aside to celebrate our love. Some people live and die without finding love. Those of us lucky enough to find it should see it as a gift. Those of us still searching could do better than to start off by being true to ourselves. Only when we are true to who we are can be prepare the ground for flourishing and self-fulfilment. Be yourself. Dare to be you. Seek counselling if you need it. Clear the ground. And, when you are ready, remember that chance favours the prepared. So prepare yourself. Dig deep. Chuck out some weeds. Till the soil. Brush yourself up, dust yourself off and get out there. For those of you who seek, good luck. For those of you lucky enough to have found your soul mate, love her, or him, and show it.
Anger
Anger is a tough nut. It is neither right nor wrong. Anger can fuel us. Many an injustice in human history has been righted by justifiable anger. Even the holy books record their heroes being angry, such as Jesus taking up a whip and chasing merchants from the Temple. It’s what we do with our anger that matters. First, though, we need to be aware of it. We need to have an inner radar which alerts us to anger brewing within us. Once we cop on that we are angry, we then need to try to discern what we are annoyed about. Sometimes the ‘presenting’ issue isn’t the real issue. For instance, if I find myself snapping at my children it is often that I was angry beforehand and it’s important that we trace back to the original source. Happily I’m of an age that I readily apologise to my children and I’ll say: ‘Sorry. It’s something else I’m annoyed about.’
Now that we backtrack to the original cause of our disquiet, irritation, displeasure, annoyance – all politer words for the one emotion of anger – we can at least deal with the actual issue. We need to deal with our anger or it will deal with us. We need to have our anger or it will have us. We need to own it or it will own us.
Some people are irredeemably irritating to work with. They will never change. I refer again, as I think I did before, to a gorgeous piece of calligraphy on a simple card that I have on the wall of my office. One line says: ‘Have nothing to do with people who put you down, depress you or say you cannot do it.’ (The only attribution is ‘Your Philosophy’)
Life is too short to become embroiled with dysfunctional people. And yet why do so many people remain in relationships, whether personal or professional, with people who do just that: depress them, put them down and say they cannot do it? It is surely fear, a bedfellow of anger. We may fear what may happen if we walk away. We need to have faith in ourselves. I have walked away from situations in the past that cramped me, depressed me and disrespected me. We can but speak our truth. And if no change results, we need to trust ourselves enough to walk away.
Gratitude
I’ve written quite a bit before in various published columns in the print media about the ‘gratitude attitude’. Thankfulness is an attitude, an awareness, a way of looking at things. When we lose sight of the gratitude attitude, we tend to have lost our balance. This minute, right now, you and I have so very many things to be thankful for that, were we to enumerate even a tiny fraction of them, we would be here forever. People spend their lives wishing they could see yet not once today before now did I pause to be thankful for my eyesight. I myself spent many years longing for a home of my own yet, before this second, not once today did I pause to consider how lucky I am to now live in a home that I love. For years of my life I longed to find a life partner, someone I loved and who loved me yet how easy it is for me to take my wonderful wife for granted. And then there’s breath and a beating heart, the wonder of life, a wondrous thing and my one and only life, a heart beating that one day will stop, lungs that will cease to inhale and exhale, my life spent, yet not once before now did I, this day, become aware of, let alone thankful for, the transient gift of my life.
Let’s pause to be grateful for all that we have and all that we are. For those we love and who love us. For this moment. For literacy. For sight and light. For the Internet. Electricity. Our senses of hearing and touch, for taste, for the sense of smell. For colour, mobility, intelligence, consciousness. For sex and relationships, for our bodies. For music and books and art. For sport and passion and love. For time and healing. For serenity. For growth. For now. For all we are, all we have been and all we may yet be. For hope. For humanity. And again, for love.
Resignation of George Lee
For the benefit of international readers, George Lee was a prominent Irish journalist and broadcastor who was appoached by Fine Gael, the main Opposition party in Ireland, to ditch his well-paid, very high profile job with Ireland’s national broadcaster, RTE, some nine months ago and to run for that party in a by-election. He won by a resounding majority. Since then, we didn’t hear a lot from him. Now we know that he felt he wasn’t given a role, or one which he liked, within the Opposition party. So, at 12.50 p.m. yesterday it was announced that he had resigned from Fine Gael and from the Dail – the Irish Parliament. It was the main news story all yesterday, not least because it seemed to suggest that the Parliament – and not only the main Opposition – was an unproductive place unconducive to using the undoubted talents of at least one recent parliamentarian.
Fine Gael and its Leader appear vulnerable after George’s decision, as does the Dail itself. George is greatly admired, not only by his former electorate but by the public who believed his razor sharp analysis of the problems in the Irish economy. His was one of the few voices warning of the dangers to the Irish economy well before the credit crunch, well before the international banking crisis, and at a time when prominent politicians tut-tutted at his spot-on warnings.
A poll on RTE Radio’s Liveline showed some 83 per cent of people said he was right to resign. He insisted it would have been dishonest for him to stay since he had accepted the invitation to run for Parliament on the understanding that he would influence and help bring about change. In fact, he claimed yesterday, that he had had no influence at all on Fine Gael policy.
I admire George Lee. I regard him as a man of remarkable integrity. I see him as a brave man, willing to face whatever the backlash may be of his decision to resign from politics. He was hounded from many sides yesterday. Luckily for George, and for us, he is articulate and he countered every attack with that greatest weapon of all: the truth. It had not been easy for him to leave aside his high-profile, well-paid job nine months ago. Nor was it easy for him yesterday to stand alone and be true to himself. Well done George. I salute you.
Raw humanity
My best friend during the 1980s said to me once that he hoped I’d never lose my ‘rawness’. Another good friend in the early ’90s nicknamed me ‘the Human’. I couldn’t have wished for a finer accolade.
When people ask what religion you are or what nationality or whether you’re a Northsider or a Southsider or whatever the pigeonholes of choice are at any time or in any place, could there be a better response than saying: ‘I’m a human being’. What a defence against being categorised, pigeonholed, sealed up and packaged in some preconceived bias. Human! If we could all recognise each other’s humanity, I mean how good would that be?! Remember that scene in that wonderful movie Elephant Man when the protagonist declares: ‘I am a human being!’
In Northern Ireland, there’s the old joke of someone asking a guy what religion he is. He says ‘I’m a Muslim.’ He’s asked: ‘But are you a Catholic Muslim or a Protestant Muslim?’
Once, when I was asked my religion I replied ‘I’m a human being.’ People laughed. They thought it was funny. There was no malice on their part. But I wonder if the laughter had something to do with recognising the needlessness of their albeit innocent attempt to pigeonhole a fellow human being. And we do it all the time. In Britain: Labour or Conservative. In the US, Republican or Democrat. All these things help us to focus on differences.
Maybe for today if we go to pigeonhole someone let’s catch ourselves doing it and instead look for our shared humanity. Oh, and see how the Unionists and Irish Republicans, succeeded in doing precisely that over the weekend. Transcending difference. And wasn’t it great to hear the humour, where our shared humanity so often manifests, with Peter Robinson’s joke about winning the gold medal for negotiating at the forthcoming London Olympics but that no doubt they’d then have to negotiate about what flag and anthem to use. And Martin McGuinness’ quip about his suggestion that Peter wear a green tie and he’d wear an orange one.
By the way, might as well say it hear as anywhere, I’ve a proposed symbol for the unity of humans in Northern Ireland. You know the yin yang symbol? Well picture it with, say, the white section coloured green, white and orange, and the black section coloured red, white and blue. And the black circle in the white area would be the Union Jack and the white circle in the black section would be the Tricolour. I know no more powerful symbol for the two major energies in Northern Ireland. It would be a symbol of balance, of the unity of opposites. That the British identity in Northern Ireland is somehow central to Irish identity and the Irish identity there is somehow intrinsic to the British identity. Neither dominating the other, each complementing the other. Each recognising the other in itself…
Relaxation
I’m sitting by the fire, listening to Gay Byrne on RTE Lyric FM of a Sunday afternoon. I’ve resisted the invitations to go elsewhere. There’s a lot to be said for sitting in a recliner chair in your own home. And I’ve just looked out the window and, no surprises, my daughter and her cousins are visiting here: just as I expected. And now my son and his cousin has arrived too. Just as I predicted. And the girls came laden with a bowl of sticky toffee pudding for me. Now, does life get any better than this?
Uncle Gaybo! His show is just over. But I recall that it was he, Gay Byrne, who first planted the irresistable bug of writing. He held a short story competition way back in the mid-1980s and I entered the competition. It was a tiny piece. I think just 500 words. A professional actor performed my little piece. I was one of the top ten finalists. It didn’t win the competition. But the buzz I got out of having my words read out on radio by a professonal actor was brilliant. I’d caught the bug and here I am, more than 25 years later, earning my living as a writer, editor and inveterate diariest. Thanks Uncle Gaybo! For your encouragement, the chance to taste the delight of my profession, and for being The Voice of Irish Radio through my youth, adulthood and, now, middle age.
Loneliness
It is human to feel lonely from time to time. We all must face death alone. It is a solitary journey. And so, even blessed as I am and very fortunate to have a loving family, I felt a bit lonely tonight. I see my children growing and maturing as they should and I know that the day will come when it will be time for them to leave the nest. I looked at some family photos tonight while they played together on the Wii. Gosh, how they’ve grown from the little things of yesteryear. There’s something wonderful and beautiful and sad and gorgeous and touching and … lonely about it all. The shortness of life. It passes like a blink!
And what do we have to show for it all? All passes. Save love, I guess.
Peace at the last
‘May He support us all the day long, till the shadows lengthen and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging, and a holy rest and peace at the last.’
– John Henry Cardinal Newman
Even to unbelievers, this prayer, or poem if you prefer, has a mollifying beat and effect. We aren’t alone. Support is at hand. For believers, from God. For unbelievers, from other people, one’s inner resources, the bounty of the universe. We’ve work to do. Lots of it. But an end will come and our work will be done, and the busy world, at least for us, will be hushed, the ‘fever of life’ over. May we tread this day confident of a safe lodging, rest, serenity and peace in our hearts this day.