Posted on by Vincent Hanley

The Joys of Walking

Photo taken looking out from Johnny Hennessy’s memorial on the way up to Castlegale through the old Gabhairín Rua pathway. Beautiful view of Glenroe, Ballintubber and Slievereagh.

I became a serious walker in 2009! For several years before that, I had been severely hampered by arthritis in my left hip. After years of being told that I was too young for a hip replacement, I had the operation in Croom in November 2008. The operation was a complete ‘textbook’ success, according to my very favourite orthopaedic surgeon, Eric Masterson.

The operation gave me a new lease of life and, whereas up to that time walking was a painful chore, now I felt energised and ready to explore. Since then, I have loved to walk – in Summer especially or when the scales tip 215 lbs! I head off, and a trek of twenty kilometres is not unusual. I have visited all my local villages on foot, in their turn, Rathkeale, Ballingarry, Castlemahon, and Kilmeedy. In recent years, since Mary moved to Glenroe, I have gloried in rediscovering the Ballyhouras, and whether it is a trek over Sheehy’s Hill or climbing up to Castlegale or the more arduous Darragh Loop, the trails and loops have brought me great joy. 

Castlegale is a great parish reference point.  Looking south, it dominates the landscape.  I remember my mother telling me that in the landlord days of rents and rackrents, the Gascoignes of Castle Oliver placed a flag on the cairn at the summit of Castlegale to let tenants know their rents were due.  Today, Castlegale is central to some of the many amazing trekking loops which have been developed in recent years by the Ballyhoura Bears and by Ballyhoura Development.  The walk to the summit from Darragh takes you through the beautiful ancient pathway, the Gabhairín Rua.

The Ballyhoura Region itself is a truly mythical landscape – Seefin, Glenosheen, Glenanaar, the Black Dyke, Ardpatrick – these high places carry evidence of cairns or old monastic ruins, a strange mixture of the ancient battles between the old dispensation and the new.  And up in these hills, you come across strange sights as you ramble.  I’ve come across Army Rangers perfecting their orienteering skills, in full combat gear, traversing this God-forsaken wilderness on their way to rendezvous with other members of their regiment. 

The name Seefin (Suí Finn) translates as the ‘Seat of Fionn (Mac Cumhaill)’.  It is so named because, according to tradition, Fionn and his Fianna rested here on their hunting excursions to the other sacred places, like Knockainey (Cnoc Áine), and our other sacred Limerick hill, Knockfierna (Cnoc Fírinne).  Down below Seefin, the highest point in the Ballyhouras, is the quaint Palatine village of Glenosheen, named in honour of Óisin, the son of Fionn.  The village is famous as one of the settlements established by a colony of Irish Palatines, German Protestant refugees, who settled there in the early 18th century.  Some of their historic houses and family names, like Switzer, Teskey, Ruttle, Young, Sparling, Wolf, Baker,  Weekes and the Steepes, are still evident today.  Their main settlement in Limerick was Rathkeale, where they used their expertise to bolster the emerging linen and flax industry in the area. Today, in Rathkeale, there is a fabulous Palatine Museum at the trailhead for the West Limerick Greenway dedicated to their memory.

Glenosheen is also remembered as the birthplace of the famous Joyce Brothers, Patrick Weston Joyce and Robert Weston Joyce.  Patrick Weston Joyce (1827 – 1914) was a distinguished educationalist who, would you believe it, began his teaching career in Glenroe N.S. at the age of eighteen.  He had been educated in numerous well-known and well-endowed Hedge Schools in Kilfinane, Kilmallock and Mitchelstown by the very best travelling scholars.  He taught in a number of schools, including the High School Clonmel, before eventually going on to have a distinguished career at Trinity College, Dublin.  Here, he made a name for himself as a historian, a linguist, and a significant collector of Irish folk music and traditional airs. He held influential positions in the Irish education system and authored numerous works on Irish history, place names, and the Irish language. His efforts helped preserve a vast amount of Irish cultural heritage.  Indeed, the first book I ever read when I was in Fifth Class in Primary School, having recently graduated from comics, was his fabulous collection of old legends, Old Celtic Romances, telling the almost forgotten tales of Fionn and Óisín, Cúchulainn and Diarmuid agus Gráinne.

His brother, Robert Dwyer Joyce (1830 – 1883), was no less famous and distinguished.  He was a medical doctor who achieved renown as a writer, poet, and song lyricist. He was associated with the Fenian movement (1867) and wrote popular ballads, including ‘The Wind that Shakes the Barley’ and ‘The Boys of Wexford’. His literary contributions often centred on Irish themes and history. He also spent time in the United States, where he was well-regarded. 

Further west, and nearer to home, I love trekking on the slopes of Knockfierna, near Ballingarry in County Limerick.  This place is famous for its poignant Famine Village history, where, during Famine times, over a thousand people lived in makeshift homes on the side of the hill.  It is a unique experience to walk among the ruins of the semi-restored cottages, shebeens, and Rambling House.  Today, thanks to the work of Pat O’Donovan and his restoration group, the Knockfierna Famine Trail leads visitors past these preserved cottage ruins, garden plots, and other memorials, offering a moving, reflective experience amidst stunning views of the Golden Vale.  The whole experience showcases both Irish resilience and the devastating impact of the famine. 

Another one of my favourite rambles is in The Castle Demesne in Newcastle West, Co. Limerick, especially when rain threatens.  This beautiful 100+ acre sylvan parkland with walking trails, playgrounds, and picnic spots, surrounding the historic Desmond Castle and its Banqueting Hall in the town square, is heavily wooded, and there is great shade from wind and blustery showers. It is an amazing family-friendly amenity right by the town centre, and it is easily connected to the scenic Limerick Greenway. This historic site, once home to the powerful Earls of Desmond, including the famous third Earl of Desmond, Gearóid Íarla, features centuries of history with stunning parklands for leisurely strolls, rich flora and fauna, and is a central part of Newcastle West’s heritage.  Legend has it that Gearóid disappeared in mysterious circumstances in 1398 while walking in the Demesne grounds, and today he is fabled to live beneath the waters of Lough Gur, near Bruff, over whose waters he is said to appear once every seven years, riding his white steed.

I am also very lucky to have the fabulous Limerick Greenway within striking distance.  I have to say it is becoming more and more dangerous walking on minor country roads; such is the total absence of courtesy, and speed limits are totally ignored.  Thankfully, I now have The Greenway, which was built along the former Limerick to Tralee railway line, and after many years of development, is now a state-of-the-art off-road cycling and walking route that can be accessed through numerous entry points.  The Greenway weaves its way through West Limerick’s traditional agricultural landscape, starting in Rathkeale, on through Ardagh, Newcastle West, Barnagh, Templeglantine and finishing in Abbeyfeale, passing through Tullig Wood, with its mature, serene woodland and native trees, providing a restful calm and balm for all travellers.

Walking by the sea offers therapeutic benefits, combining gentle exercise with stunning views.  There are other benefits, such as stress relief and connecting with nature. Whether one sets out on a relaxing stroll on sandy beaches or undertakes the more vigorous coastal path hikes, one can be enriched by the bracing fresh air, the sound of waves, the prospect of some whale spotting and the occasional sea wreck. It’s a popular way to enjoy leisure time, explore scenic routes, and find peace, like the beautiful hike out past the Diamond Rocks in Kilkee and up Dunlicky or George’s Head. 

One of our favourites is the Ballycotton Cliff Walk, definitely a podcast-free ramble, with majestic sea vistas looking out over the final resting place of the doomed Lusitania.  No trip to Ballycotton is complete without a rewarding visit to nearby Ballymaloe for a coffee and delicacies! Or when in Ardmore, head out past the Cliff House Hotel and the ruins of St. Declan’s Hermitage and Well and enjoy the stunning sea views and ramble back towards the quaint little seaside town via the majestic Round Tower.  It is a stunning looped coastal trail offering beautiful sea views, historical sites, and the chance to spot the Samson crane barge wreck in its lonely final resting place.

Since retirement, we have been making frequent visits to the Canary Islands and especially, Puerto Rico in Gran Canaria. This place, as opposed to Puerto del Carmen, is challenging enough and rambles in the early morning or after four in the evening are recommended. Kate and I have been coming here now for the past twenty years, and each visit uncovers new delights, and improved pathways, steps and roadways. Our favourite walk is the Cliff Walk between Puerto Rico Beach and the man-made Amadores Playa. This is an easy ramble and often a preamble to more strenuous excursions.

We invariably book accommodation on the lower level. Corona Cedral would be our favourite place of all, but we have also stayed in Monte Verde, Letitia del Mar, Maracaibo, and Rio Piedras, with its terracotta terraces overlooking the beach. All these are very central – near the two main Shopping Centres and the beach and its many restaurants.

The only drawback I find with Puerto Rico is its distance from the airport – approximately 40 kilometres. However, Gran Canaria has a first-class public transport system and once free of arrivals and the terminal building, you can go to the bus terminal and get the 91 bus to Puerto Rico for €5.45 – as opposed to €70 for a taxi. Alternatively, Ryanair and others provide reasonably priced shuttle services to and from the airport.

Casting a long shadow before descending those 756 steps!

As one becomes familiar with the area, one becomes more confident in foraging out new trails, loops and challenging treks. The one thing to notice is that there are steps everywhere linking the various levels. The local authority has done fabulous work in the past five years, building a series of steps from the beach to the high point near Puerto Azul apartments. In all, there are 756 steps in this series – individually counted! Depending on your exertions, you can decide to descend the 756 or take on the more daunting challenge and ascend – or even decide to work both into your evening ramble!

Evening walks usually involve thoughts of home and the girls, Maeve, Anna, Muireann and, of course, Mary, Mike and Don. There is a tree on one of the summits which I always associate with them. It grows in the centre of a roundabout down the road from the Europa Centre, and very near the Balcon de Amadores apartment complex, and invariably, when I get this far, I usually give them a ring to check how things are, and to check on Knockaderry’s, Clanna Gael Fontenoy’s, or Limerick’s progress in the Championship.

Selfie with a tree!

On Lanzarote, ‘El Varadero de la Tinosa’, is the original village of what is now the thriving Old Town centre of Puerto del Carmen. Today, it is still a centre for fishing, and there is a very strong seafaring tradition in the area.  The beautiful little church sits just feet from the water’s edge, facing the little fishing port.  Today, it is a centre for tourist trips, and there is a regular hourly ferry plying between the port and Puerto Calero – the destination for one of my favourite rambles.  Leaving Casa Roja restaurant, we walk to the end of the boardwalk and to the newly paved area at the top.  There are lovely views out to sea and many viewing areas along this stretch of the walk.

We walk south-east along the coast. The distance is 2.2 kms. approx and the walk, taken at a nice brisk pace, will take you about thirty minutes.  The path now changes to a dirt track, and there is evidence of the remnants of an ancient stone road which runs above a small cliff that permits a glimpse from above of the intertidal area, its coves and small inlets.

We arrive at ‘The Barranco (ravine) del Quiquere’, of interest because its volcanic sides contain engravings from the indigenous world of the island of Lanzarote. We can get a close look at them by taking the track just 50 metres to the north on the right side of the ravine as you walk from Puerto del Carmen. 

The views of the sea and islands of Lobos Island and Fuerteventura to the south enhance the beauty of the landscape in this area, and eventually we arrive at the newly man-made marina of Puerto Calero. This beautiful port and marina are a fitting ending after our cliff walk, and a ramble around the upmarket shops and outlet stores is highly recommended.  There are also numerous high-quality restaurants and at least two hotels nearby.  Puerto Calero is renowned as a headquarters for some round-the-world yacht crews, and after a brief look around, you will see why.

Ralph Waldo Emerson has laid down my walking ground rules: “Few people know how to take a walk. The qualifications are endurance, plain clothes, old shoes, an eye for nature, good humour, vast curiosity, good speech, good silence, and nothing too much.” I am also reminded that numerous other poets, philosophers and novelists have also wandered and wondered. Kierkegaard did so in the countryside near Copenhagen and suggested that it might be good for his niece, Jette, to do likewise. Prompting her in 1847, he came up with a notion I repeat on my own travels: “Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it” (A Letter to Henrietta Lund from Søren Kierkegaard, 1847, trans. Henrik Rosenmeier, 1978).

I haven’t read many of HG Wells’ novels, but there’s another mantra from one of the non-fiction works, Modern Utopia, that I’ll happily take to my grave: “There will be many footpaths in Utopia.” And whether I’m rambling in the Ballyhouras or Ballycotton or above Ashford on the Cob Road or the hills above Bormes les Mimosa, in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur Region, southeastern France, or in Puerto Rico, my favourite nugget of wisdom is, of course, T.S. Eliot’s evocative words from The Waste Land (1922), surely one of the most beautiful poetic lines ever written, “In the mountains, there you feel free.”

In conclusion, I am often reminded of the lovely Latin phrase, Solvitur ambulando – ‘it is solved by walking’ – sometimes attributed to St. Jerome or Diogenes, or St. Augustine, maybe even Thoreau or Chatwin, inter alios…..

So, put your best foot forward!

Looking towards the Galtees from the sandstone cairn on the summit of Castlegale.

Posted on by Vincent Hanley

Life’s Simple Pleasures

My wildflower COVID garden.

I like to spend my lazy days in the garden. When Kate and I set up home in Knockaderry in 1979, we inherited a garden and a red setter called Kelly. Then there was the recently acquired three-quarters of an acre, which was a very overgrown, forbidding blank canvas.  The previous owners had made some effort and had put in a new bed of floribunda roses – the variety was Peace. There were other older roses there also, from previous owners, right back to Miss Airey, the original owner of the house. Miss Airey was a teacher in the old national school in Ahalin, and she built the house in 1935 and lived there with her companion, Mrs Sheehy. There were two or three Queen Elizabeth roses holding pride of place, which had been planted in 1952 to commemorate  Queen Elizabeth’s coronation that year. They were still hale and hearty when we arrived in September 1979, and they are still going strong today!

Kelly helped us settle in.  He was a beautiful Red Setter who had come all the way from Scarborough with the previous owners, the O’ Rourkes.  He slept in the back bedroom, and he ruled the roost.  Each afternoon, he escorted the school kids to the bend in the road on their way home from school, at a time when school kids still walked to school.  One evening, Frank Moore called to fix our phone, and he rang the doorbell to discover that both Kate and I were still at work.  Kelly soon discovered the intruder, and he came and sat in his sitting position, strategically blocking Frank’s escape.  He emitted the odd low growl until we arrived home at five o’clock, and Frank was glad to be released from his captivity.  Until recently, and especially when Mary and Don were young and still at home, we always had a dog.  We had numerous red setters, Susie the Old English Sheepdog, a Lassie-type collie, a Cocker Spaniel named Robbie (Fowler), and a Golden Retriever from hell called Oatie!

However, to be brutally honest, when we took up residence, the garden, like the house, was somewhat of a shambles! I remember distinctly going into the Bank of Ireland branch in Newcastle West in April 1979 to cash my monthly pay cheque, which you had to do in those days. The assistant manager of the bank, Eamonn Mellett, called me over for a chat, and during the conversation, he casually asked me if I was still interested in buying ‘that house out in Knockaderry’! I told him that I was, and he said that if that was the case, the bank would be willing to provide a mortgage for the property. Believe me, that’s how business was done in those days!

Huge amounts of time, effort and study went into planning and developing our garden. I knew that I needed to study up on shrubs, especially roses, or they would surely die! Fair to say I researched the topic to Master’s degree level! I had many favourite textbooks, but my favourites were: The Wisely Book of Gardening published by The Royal Horticultural Society, Be Your Own Rose Expert by Dr D.G. Hessayon, The Gardener’s Book of Hardy Herbaceous Plants by Wendy Carlile, and A Garden for All Seasons published by The Reader’s Digest. Having done all this research, however, long before Google took hold, I finally realised that, unlike many other less finicky shrubs and plants, it’s almost impossible to kill a rose!

There are two great advantages of having gardening as a hobby – it is great therapy and a very humbling experience. Despite the optimistic messages in the glossy magazines, not everything grows, and one always has to take into account that fourth dimension, the fact that some shrubs and trees grow too big, too fast. Today, I look back in wonder at the improvements made over the years and the huge changes that have occurred on our once overgrown and neglected piece of land over the past forty-five years. I have a photo somewhere of a tiny birch sapling that my daughter Mary brought home from school when she was in First Class, and today that birch proudly dominates our driveway in Kiltanna. This is one of the advantages of gardening: we plant seeds and shrubs and trees knowing that another generation will shelter under their magnificent branches in years to come.

Mary’s sapling birch has grown to dominate the driveway in Kiltanna

The second therapeutic value of gardening is especially useful for those who like to be in control of things. Work and relationships may seem at times to be hopelessly beyond our control, but our garden can give us a semblance of control over this small patch of the universe. We can mow and clip and prune and spray and fertilise to our heart’s content and imagine that we are at least the masters of all we survey if we so wish. All is right with the world within the neat borders of our own Eden. This thought has largely been responsible for me maintaining my sanity over the years!

During the COVID pandemic in 2020, I undertook a fairly big project, and between the 9th of May and the 9th of August that year, I constructed a fire pit in the already existing scree garden up the back. I had great help because Don was working from home at the time.

May is my favourite month in the garden. For others, May is a month spoiled by exams and the crippling anxieties associated with school and college, but for me, retired like Charles Lamb of old, I stroll leisurely about – not to and from – admiring my newly budded beech trees, the grasses, the weeds, the purple Aubretia, and marvel, as Thomas Hardy does in his poem, Afterwards:

When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay,

     And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,

Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say,

     “He was a man who used to notice such things”?

I think it was George Bernard Shaw who wisely said that ‘the best place to find God is in a garden. You can dig for him there’. Indeed, working in a garden brings us close to creation itself – it is an instrument of grace. Earlier, I mentioned that a man has made at least a start on discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he knows full well he will never sit. I consider myself blessed to have sat in the shade of many such trees, including the few surviving Knockaderry oaks on Quilty’s Hill, because someone planted those trees a long, long time ago.

Finally, time spent in the garden is never wasted. Wisdom is given to those who meditate in the garden; the wisdom to realise that no two gardens are the same, and thankfully, no two days are the same in any garden. Like Robert Louis Stevenson, we quickly realise that we shouldn’t judge each day by the harvest we reap but by the seeds that we sow.

The house and garden in Kiltanna, resplendent with the red Dublin Bay climbers. ‘You can’t kill a rose’!

Posted on by Vincent Hanley

Random Epiphanies….

An epiphany is that moment when the penny drops, when the scales fall away from your eyes; that ‘light bulb moment’ when the mystery is solved; when the poem gives up its secret; that Eureka Moment when you realise you’ve been conned for most of your life.

The Bible has many such moments, from Eve and the apple in Genesis to Paul’s conversion on his way to Damascus in the New Testament.  As Christians, we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany each year on January 6th, which focuses on the moment Christ is revealed to the non-Jewish world; when the Magi, guided by a star, come from the East to visit their Redeemer.

Epiphanies are mental moments when we are given instant clarity, which can turn into motivation to change and charge forward. But not all epiphanies are created equally. Some demand a deep inward search, while others fly in and out of our lives swiftly, silently, almost unnoticed.

It’s great to have an epiphany, but what you do with that new clarity is what matters most. Most of our habits are so ingrained in our lives that changing behaviour is very difficult. Most epiphanies force us to see situations and ourselves in a new light. The next step takes great courage; taking that step to live out your epiphany is when real transformation happens. In my own life, I have had some powerful moments. So, here are a few examples of some of my totally random light bulb moments…..

  • I normally don’t do conspiracy theories, BUT I firmly believe the young Viet Cong soldier who tortured American Vietnam hero and veteran, John McCain, for seven years, when made redundant, went back to the fledgling Hoi ChiMinh University and did a doctoral thesis on the benefits of manually induced electro muscle therapy – this was then picked up in Austria or Switzerland and sanitised. Today, it’s known as DRY NEEDLING. IMHO, the overuse of dry needling by overzealous, sadistic physiotherapists will be the rock that modern physiotherapy will perish on.
  • Donald Trump has never, ever put America first. Indeed, most politicians of all nationalities and all political hues invariably put themselves first.  However, a stopped clock is right at least twice a day, and Donald Trump was spot-on when he coined the phrase, Fake News.
  • In a related epiphany, have you ever noticed that all the major News Corporations are now owned by billionaire oligarchs and moguls?  I wonder why.  I have come to realise that much of what passes for news in today’s world is fake – atrocity after atrocity goes unreported, and not just because all the journalists have been killed by sniper fire – those who sit at home back in the studio have their hands tied behind their backs for fear they might incur the wrath of the current government.
  • On a slightly lighter note, did you ever notice that shampoo bottles are designed so that you will always use more than you need? You only realise this when the bottle is nearly empty.
  • The Catholic Church in Ireland provided an education and health system for Irish people a century before the fledgling state was formed – they deserve to be cut some slack by the newly canonised neo-liberals. That Church, to which I belong, has been under persistent attack for most of this century.
  • There are 756 steps between Oscar’s Restaurant and Servitar Puerto Azul Apartments in Puerto Rico, Gran Canaria!
  • Last year, for the first time since we settled in Knockaderry back in 1979, we had no swallows nesting in our garage by the road. In years past, we’ve had multiple pairs, but last year, 2024, was the first year we had no nest. It struck me then that swallows are the modern version of the canary down the mine. Thankfully, this year, after a very nervous wait, a lone pair arrived on May 20th – five weeks behind schedule. They built their nest and hatched four beautiful chicks for us to admire and cherish. The world is very fragile but not yet fully broken!
  • Global Warming never came to Knockaderry – but Climate Change is a real problem!
  • I’ve always contended that common sense wasn’t that common, but now I’m convinced that logic is irreparably damaged, and Warmongers now see themselves as Peacekeepers.   There’s one who has financed and supplied most of the munitions for an ongoing genocide who claims to have brokered peace in nine global conflicts this year alone.  Give that man the Nobel Peace Prize now, or else!!
  • Your role as a parent is never done. There is never a time, in good times and in bad, when you have full peace of mind, when you no longer need to worry. In reality, as a parent, you are only ever as happy as your saddest child.
  • Your career as a politician or as the manager of your local hurling team always ends in failure! No matter how successful you’ve been at winning championships or leagues or simply avoiding dreaded relegation, the time will come when you lose the dressing room. The people have spoken, and you must inevitably bow to the tyranny of the ballot box or your local GAA AGM!
  • Modern democracy is as fragile as a wasp’s nest, papery and brittle, and in my lifetime, it has been emasculated by billionaires and Russian oligarchs for their own ends.
  • Your health is your wealth. It is a universal truth that we take too much for granted, like being able to put on your socks or pull up your pants or get out of bed in the morning.
  • Cork GAA and its supporters are so well-served by the quality of their sports journalists.  No other county can claim to have writers who, week in week out, report the club scene and the intercounty scene in hurling and football to such a high standard.  Names like Tony Leen, John Fogarty, Maurice Brosnan, Michael Moynihan, Eoghan Cormican, Paul Rouse, Kieran Shannon and Cathal Dennehy are among my favourites.  And all of those stand on the shoulders of the giants who went before them in the old Cork Examiner: Jim O’Sullivan, Michael Ellard, the great P.D. Mehigan, better known as Carbery, and my own favourite word wizard,  Kevin Cashman.  In my book, he was one of hurling’s finest ever writers who prized exactitude and calm knowledge, in the same way he esteemed seeing a hurler’s correct technique create lethal elegance.

Finally, to put some order on this randomness, here are eight epiphanies that have certainly changed my life for the better, and maybe they can help you in your own journey.

  1. You aren’t what people say you are.

What matters most is what you say and feel about yourself. You get to choose. You can let others define you and tell you who you are, or you can show them who you are. Be you. The world needs you as you are.

  1. Plan B is often better than Plan A.

The most freeing moment in your life is when you let go of what you think is best for you. Stop holding on to what is no longer working: that job, that relationship, that dream. If it feels like hard work and is causing you more pain than gain, it is time to let go.

  1. You are not the number on the scale.

At the end of your life, after all those weight struggles, food wars, the obsession with new diets, and trying to look a certain way, it will have no relevance. You are more than a set of grades. The only thing that matters is what is in your heart. How you make people feel and how you make YOU feel is more important than how you look.

  1. The journey is more important than the goal.

Setting and reaching goals is important, but the actual process of becoming, growing, learning, and morphing into who we need to become is the real sweet stuff that makes for a wonderful life. Enjoy the journey as much as the reward.

  1. Being alone doesn’t mean you will be lonely.

The fear of being alone strikes the heart and makes many people panic. But when you learn to love your own company, you will see that you are never really lonely.

  1. It will never be all done.

The to-do lists, the chores, and the things we race around to get done will never be done. It is called life. Situations, chores, and to-do lists will always unfold. Instead of focusing on the end result, be in the process and celebrate what you have accomplished, as our wonderful Limerick Hurling team does.

  1. Emotional pain, indeed, all pain, shows up to point out to us what we need to change.

Sadness, depression, and heartache are gentle reminders to probe deeper into our lives. In the Summer of 2024, I had six weeks of agony inflicted on me by an inflamed bursa in my left hip from climbing ladders and clipping hedges. So, look at what is not working and be open to living your life in new ways. No more climbing ladders for me!

  1. Finally, if you’re lucky, you don’t have to find your purpose; it will find you.

The transition period between who you are and where you are going can be painful, but on your journey of finding purpose, recognise that there is purpose in the pain. Each step you take is helping you carve out more of who you really are.