Journey Into My Mind

Failte, Reader. Welcome back if you're a regular.

I missed posting on the last two Fridays, so I have to say sorry first of all, especially if you've been coming back every week to see what I might stick up. For a number of reasons, I didn't post on the last two Fridays. I'm adjusting to a new schedule in Spain, trying to find a consistent fit to do the things I need to do and still have time for freedom and creativity, and I haven't quite found a balance yet. Thus, there might be some post inconsistency for a while, or some changes of days I post on while I figure it out. 

And that's OK. 

I'm writing about it because we often become so afraid to change things around for fear of upsetting others that we don't make changes for ourselves. 

And that's not OK. 

When nothing changes, nothing changes - a lovely platitude that I find very motivational. 

When we change, everything changes - another one I am also very fond of. 

Change is the only constant - oh Jaysus, I'm full of them today. 

But it's true. Like the flow of the River Boyne, whose Goddess I told you about in the podcast last week, listen here, change and movement are essential to our survival. 

Reflections

One of the things I had to do last week was complete an interview article about myself, my thoughts on tech, experiences, projects and inspiration. It'll be published in this magazine sometime in the future. I'm not sure when yet. I was reflecting on the person who inspired my mind to reopen to writing and storytelling this year. Then, I was looking for a poem to post here this week and found that I made a wish many years ago, through poetry, that my mind would always remain open to the wonderful words which can journey around it before finding themselves on a page. 

So, this week, I share with you that poem, which I wrote in May 2009 while on a: 

Journey Into My Mind

There are words inside trying to hide

so I must look deep within;

delve into my inner thoughts,

sink away from the outer world's din.

Freedom, spirit, broken paths

all form in a line. 

Where do these thoughts come from? 

They swim around me, effervescent, divine. 

Swirling, twirling, loop the loops, 

letters become words. 

Splutter, flutter, out they come

some senseless and absurd. 

Oh, what a journey I am having,

roaming around in my mind. 

Such utter bliss I feel to know

I am no longer blind. 

Words become sentences

that sometimes flow

like rivers filled by the tide.

Others just fit like a story once told

by a Seanchaí to a young child.

I marvel at how these thoughts spill out

from my head to my pen to my page, 

and hope as I return to reality

they'll continue 'til I'm a ripe age.