Thursday, May 18, 2017

Happiness -- What does it Mean to You?



It's time for WGT to come out of hibernation! A couple of brain waves kept me awake last night and I'm all excited about two new projects. Here's the first:

I want to explore what makes you guys happy, dear readers from different countries. All you talented scribes from all over the world, give us your views on HAPPINESS! (apart from book sales...:) But I can't do it without you!

How do you define HAPPINESS? Can you decide to be HAPPY?

You surely heard of the World Happiness Report conducted annually by CNN? According to that statistic, in 2017, the happiest countries were:
Sweden, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Netherlands, Finland, Switzerland, Iceland. 



Do you think your country comes into the equation? Let's hear YOU speak, not statistics.

Fellow-writers, bloggers, philosophers, psychologists...and fellow human beings who are going through this school of life, tell us about your impressions and beliefs on happiness. Tell us what makes you happy.

Why does this topic mesmerize me?  When we first moved to Ireland, Irish people asked us whether we were happy in our new home, the old farmhouse. For a German of my generation, it was absolutely unheard of to ask strangers whether they were happy. It felt intrusive, inconsiderate, prying to say the least. And for me, this question came at a time when I had just been "emigrated" to a country against my will and I found it hard to adjust.
Ever since then, I've been checking back in with my happiness barometer where I am on the scale of 1-10.
Is happiness too personal a matter/question for you too or will people know when you are you bubbling over with joy and happiness?
Let us know!  







Friday, December 25, 2015

A Christmas Childhood


Patrick Kavanagh’s “A Christmas Childhood” was born out of loneliness and solitude. The County Monaghan poet penned this poem having spent a Christmas season alone in his flat in Dublin. The poem is filled with nostalgia for rural, farming, family life. His memories comes to us through Christian imagery from the story of the birth of Jesus.
One side of the potato-pits was white with frost –
How wonderful that was, how wonderful!
And when we put our ears to the paling-post
The music that came out was magical.
The light between the ricks of hay and straw
Was a hole in Heaven’s gable. An apple tree
With its December-glinting fruit we saw –
O you, Eve, were the world that tempted me.
To eat the knowledge that grew in clay
And death the germ within it! Now and then
I can remember something of the gay
Garden that was childhood’s. Again.
The tracks of cattle to a drinking-place,
A green stone lying sideways in a ditch,
Or any common sight, the transfigured face
Of a beauty that the world did not touch.
My father played the melodion
Outside at our gate;
There were stars in the morning east
And they danced to his music.
Across the wild bogs his melodion called
To Lennons and Callans.
As I pulled on my trousers in a hurry
I knew some strange thing had happened.
Outside in the cow-house my mother
Made the music of milking;
The light of her stable-lamp was a star
And the frost of Bethlehem made it twinkle.
A water-hen screeched in the bog,
Mass-going feet
Crunched the wafer-ice on the pot-holes,
Somebody wistfully twisted the bellows wheel.
My child poet picked out the letters
On the grey stone,
In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland,
The winking glitter of a frosty dawn.
Cassiopeia was over
Cassidy’s hanging hill,
I looked and three whin bushes rode across
The horizon — the Three Wise Kings.
And old man passing said:
‘Can’t he make it talk –
The melodion.’ I hid in the doorway
And tightened the belt of my box-pleated coat.
I nicked six nicks on the door-post
With my penknife’s big blade –
there was a little one for cutting tobacco.
And I was six Christmases of age.
My father played the melodion,
My mother milked the cows,
And I had a prayer like a white rose pinned
On the Virgin Mary’s blouse.
(Published today on Irishcentral.com)

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Your Complete Guide to an Irish Christmas

"Merry Christmas" is "Nollaig Shona Duit," which is pronounced as "null-ig hun-a dit." Now you have almost completed your IE 101!

Weather
But despite the warmer temperatures, Ireland has been getting less sunlight than a typical December, due to heavy rain storms and cloudy conditions. In my time in Ireland, we experienced terrible storms and power cuts due to fallen trees but never snow.

You know you're in Ireland when you book the 8th December off and drive to the"Big Smoke". You get all your Christmas shopping done in one day. It's called "Farmers Christams" or nowadays #Farmersdayout. Ireland, like most countries, has a number of Christmas traditions that are all its own.  




You leave a can of Guinness, a slice of Christmas cake and a carrot out on Christmas Eve”... and rocking Irish Santa thanks you!

The placing of a lighted candle in the window of a house on Christmas Eve is still practiced in Ireland today. It has a number of purposes but primarily, it was a symbol of welcome to Mary and Joseph as they traveled looking for shelter.
German, btw, does or did that too. At least during the years while it was divided between East and West. (We in the West put the candles in the windows for our brothers in the East.)

Decorations 



The placing of a ring of holly on doors originated in Ireland as holly was one of the main plants that flourished at Christmas time, giving the poor ample means with which to decorate their dwellings.

All decorations are traditionally taken down on Little Christmas or Women's Christmas (January 6) and it is considered bad luck to take them down beforehand.


We missed our Christmas tree.Sure pine and spruce was available long before Christmas but would usually be dry and wilted by Christmas, especially when brought indoors. Firs or noble firs that keep better were not available. The tradition of advent wreath like in Germany with four candles in the lead up to Christmas for every Sunday was not a tradition in Ireland. I made my own wreath our of all kinds of evergreens available: yew, holly, laurel. 




And an unheard of frivolity (even / particularly now here in the USA as well) is a live tree with real candles. My American family almost went paranoid over it and insisted on having a hose from the garden at the ready. In Ireland, however, I saw decorated and illuminated Christmas trees outside for the first time, however, already up on December 1. They were not popular then in Germany yet and Germans mostly still buy their tree only on Christmas Eve and put it up then indoors.
         

St. Stephen's Day and the Wren Boy Procession
During Penal Times, there was once a plot in a village against the local soldiers. They were surrounded and were about to be ambushed when a group of wrens pecked on their drums and awakened the soldiers. The plot failed and the wren became known as 'The Devil's bird'. On St Stephen's day, a procession takes place where a pole with a holly bush is carried from house to house and families dress up in old clothes and with blackened faces. In olden times, an actual wren would be killed and placed on top of the pole.


My son was born on St. Stephen's Day. (Pronounced btw. like St. Stephense's Day in North Country Tipperary where we lived. Boxing Day in the UK).It was impossible to have a birthday party for the little boy. First of all, the Irish have big families and they all had to visit their relatives on that day. Second, Tipperary where we lived had the customary Wren boys doing the rounds on St.Stephen's day. Originally staging a fake wren shooting, tradition has it that a group of boys and young man dressed up and went from farm to farm singing and collecting goodies- sweets or pennies.


Ireland's a nation of emigrants and most Irish families will either be missing someone at their Christmas dinner table this year due to emigration or they’ll have the emotions and joyous experience of a homecoming. Emigration, a typical phenomenon for centuries until the boom times of the Celtic Tiger. And when he stopped roaring, the situation reversed again.

Last year the Dublin Airport Authority posted this emotional video on their YouTube channel showing an emotional Christmas homecoming with the O’Connor family from West Limerick being reunited for the first time in four years.

Christmas Songs
A generation of Irish kids grew up on Dustin, the singing turkey without who Christmas would not be complete,  especially when he joins Twink in a panto. His most popular songs  "Christmas Tree Song" and "Rat Trap" together with Bob Geldof.

One of the few Xmas songs I really like and get emotional about, although I never particularly liked Shane Mc Gowan, once married to Sinead O'Connor.  I'm amazed he is still alive - given his lifestyle.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

How to Reach Your Writing Goals like a Pro



Excerpt

Chapter 2: Step 1 – Declutter Your Mind

OK. Let’s get started!
No matter what your goal is, no matter how easy or hard you may think it is to attain, the first step that you must take is to declutter your mind.

One of the reasons for which you still haven’t reached your writing goals, is the fact that all of what you’ve learned and heard about publishing your book or about becoming a successful writer, were implemented ideas that are now blocking their fulfillment inside you.

“I have spent most of my time worrying about things that have never happened.” ~ Mark Twain.
For this reason, it’s a great decision to first unlearn what you have learned.

Why do you need to do this? Let me briefly explain.

During our life, we’ve been brainwashed to think that certain goals are impossible to attain. I am telling you that this is one of the biggest lies that we encounter in our lives.

If you are serious about your dreams, if you really wish with all your heart to materialize your dreams, nothing… and I mean nothing can stand in your way. All you have to do is to get rid of all the garbage that was inoculated in your beliefs. Do it and don’t lose time finding out who put it in your mind, why this was done, and most of all don’t blame the ones who taught you those things. They were themselves taught by others and maybe they were well intentioned when they did it. It could have just been because they thought that, that was the ultimate truth. No matter what, this is not your problem but theirs. They were wrong, and you just started on the road to prove it to the whole world.

M.C.Simon                                            


About the Author
Writer, translator, engineer, researcher, project manager, blogger, eternal student… these are only a few words to describe M.C. Simon.
In a recent interview she confessed:
“I am not only M.C. Simon, the writer whose goal is to rebuild in people the trust in their own forces and in the incredible powers that they received at birth; powers that, maybe they have forgotten about somewhere inside the depth of their being.
I AM all what “I am not only”, and much more! I AM who I AM. And in this form, I follow my Path to consciously touch The Absolute… The ONE who’s Omnipotent, Omniscient and Omnipresent.
The same as YOU and like any other soul that accepted in these times, the challenge to experience life inside a human body, on this wonderful planet we call Earth.”

READ MORE
BUY here: Amazon US   & Amazon UK 

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Time to Take Your Life Back

How those with a chronic illness or disability can take back control of their life, realize goals and learn to be happy again.
Hi, my name is Karen Magill. Siggy Buckley thought it would be a good idea if you and I talked.

First, I want to tell you a bit about myself. In June of 2000, I woke up partially paralysed on one side of my body. Nine days later, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. The paralysis left within a few weeks but I was always exhausted and by the end of September, MS forced me to go on disability, leaving the best job I’d ever had.

I was 35 years old and I thought my life was over. All I could see for my future was sitting alone in my one bedroom apartment, watching television and waiting to die.

That’s not what happened though. Today, I am an award-winning novelist with four published paranormal novels and one non-fiction book. I have a budding career as a motivational speaker and have launched a life coaching/mentoring program to help others with a chronic illness and/or disability accomplish a lifelong goal.

Do you have a goal you want to accomplish but aren’t sure how to do it? Do you think it would help if you and I got together on Skype and talked about your goals and the problems you are having reaching it?

If you think speaking to me would be helpful, please go to this link, http://go.cmapn.com/karen-magill-webinar/ watch the webinar, and fill out the application form then book an appointment with me. Or you can go to http://www.karenmagill.com/coaching and fill out the application. All of this will be free.

Thank you for your time and I look forward to hearing from you.

Karen Magill

Thursday, October 29, 2015

Samhain Blessings - Happy Halloween!


When I came to the United States first I was surprised, and delighted, to discover that Halloween was such a popular holiday.  You see Halloween is originally an Irish pagan feast.  It travelled to the United States with our emigrants, in the 19th century, and has been adopted into American culture.
The original Irish Celtic festival was called “Samhain.”  It occurred at the end of autumn when crops had been harvested and animals were slaughtered to provide food for the winter.   It was, essentially, the end of the farming year.   In Celtic culture the 1st November was considered “New Year’s Day”.    So Halloween was their “New Year’s Eve”.
To celebrate “Samhain” the ancient Celts would light bonfires.  These were originally called “bone fires” and were used to incinerate the bones of the recently slaughtered farm animals.   They would also play games such as bobbing for apples, which is still very popular.  In addition they liked to carve vegetables.  The same tradition is still alive today with the carved pumpkin.  As there were no pumpkins in Ireland they used to carve turnips.    

The ancient Celts believed that, at the end of the year, the souls of people who had died that year would leave the earth and go to heaven.    It was part of their belief that these ghosts roamed freely that night before leaving.   In order to ward off any hauntings and provide sustenance for their journey, people would leave food and drink at their door for the departed spirits.   You will notice the origins of “trick-or-treat”.   
We Irish also bake a special cake which is only eaten at Halloween.  It’s called “Barmbrack” and it is used for fortune telling!   Certain small items are concealed in the cake, such as a ring, a rag, a coin or a small stick.   Google “barmbrack” and find out what these signify!

In 601 AD Pope Gregory The First, issued his famous edict.  He told his missionaries that, rather than try to obliterate native customs and beliefs, they should convert them into Christian feast days.   So, the 1st of November then became the Feast of All Saints.  It became a sacred or “hallowed” day.   But the Celts still gave significance to the day before, which was “the eve of All Hallows” and became known as Hallows E’en and then Halloween.    
So now you have the story of Halloween.  And, as the actor Michael Cain would say, “Not many people know that!”

Written by John Schűtte for Siggy Buckley, the honorary “Paddy".


Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Ghost Stories & a Bit of Irish History

  

"Our new home, the pink farmhouse in Co. Tipperary, didn’t have a resident ghost, but it was in a scary neighborhood. A little cottage, abandoned for donkey's years but not in disrepair, sat looming on a curve in the road that led up to our new farm. Sheila, who lived in the same townland, told me later that she saw Little People there sometimes when she came home late around midnight.
Maybe a case of too much of the brown stuff?
I had a sneaking suspicion that the Irish perpetuated this myth partly for the sake of tourists, to tell them what they like to hear. It’s a cliché that the Irish all have the gift of the gab anyway.
Ghost stories stand and fall with the trustworthiness of the person who vouches she knows it on good authority. And that, in Ireland, is usually the friend of a cousin once removed.
If you dig a bit deeper, research on haunted houses shows that they have something in common. Usually, a tragic death befell somebody in or around the house. And Ireland, with its almost 800-year long history of occupation and subjugation, is full of tragic stories. I came across a travelling psychic later whose mission it was to set the ghosts at ease, to send them home or lay them to rest. Marvelous. The interest in ghost lore, like in UFOs, never ceases.
Being skeptics, we just laughed Sheila off, until we heard about a real ghost story in our new home town.  
 
Leaving Killaloe, where we purchased our abode, on the road to Scarriff, there was a two-story stone house on the left hand side. In spite of the faded lace curtains, its dark windows gave the property an abandoned, foreboding look, while the huge front lawn was always meticulously mown and the landscaping simple but well kept. In front of the downstairs windows, several beautiful, truly blue hydrangeas had caught my eye while we were still hunting for a farm. I wondered whether the farm was for sale, because it was obviously empty. There was no estate agent’s sign, and I didn’t dare to walk up to the gloomy door and find out as it looked so uninviting, almost scary.
The farm buildings belonging to this house were across the road. A huge sycamore tree towered over everything at the roadside gate, and the tree trunk was protected by heavy steel bars. I wondered what the obviously expensive enclosure was about.
Pauline, my one-time housekeeper and later friend, who likes a good yarn but is generally reliable, told me about the drama behind this house. She is the grand-niece of the Irish freedom fighter and hero, Michael Collins, who was tragically shot and killed in 1922 in the Civil War following the War of Independence from Britain, just months before the creation of the Irish Free State. Pauline referred to him proudly by his nickname: The Big Fellow. A photo of him in his military fineries still hangs over her fireplace in the parlor ─ something she would never part with, neither for fear of death nor money!
In 1923, when Ireland was torn by a civil war, a family of five IRA supporters lived in this large farmhouse on the road to Scarriff. One dark night when all were in bed, there was terrible knocking of rifles on the door. It was the Black and Tans, the most feared and vicious British brigade, that all but terrorized local communities. Their primary task was to make Ireland hell for the rebels to live in. They meant business. Suspecting traitors in this house, they broke down the door and killed the whole family except for a nine-year-old boy who managed to scramble out during the bedlam. He stole away and hid across the road in a tall tree, which saved his life. As the only survivor, to this day, he takes care of house and lawn and protects the tree in memory of the tragedy that befell his family.

Is the house haunted? Yes, everybody knows that and well, what do you expect after so many killings? Could I talk to the owner? No, he is a bit funny in the head and has never been the same since. I drove by it regularly, and each time couldn’t help but remember the horror that raged in such a peaceful rural area."