Category: Guest Posts

Light in the Darkness by Liz Carter part 2

On By auntyamoIn Darkness and Light, Guest Posts, Health, weight & wellbeing, Poetry, Writing, Blogging etcLeave a comment

It’s great to have Liz Carter back today. If you didn’t read yesterday’s post, you really should. Liz’s honesty and openness is such a blessing. Here she is with the second part of her post on Light and Dark.

It’s good to be back 🙂 I finished yesterday, by saying, the more I dig into Scripture, the more I find the most starkly honest writings there poured out for all to see, overflowings of emotion and anger and sorrow spilling onto the pages – most of the prophetic writings are like this and the Psalms are full of songs of lament as much as songs of praise.

It seems to me that we are on dangerous ground if we insist that we must keep our own darkness hidden in the darkness, because that is not the biblical model.

Biblical writers craft their words with honesty and authenticity. They tell it how it is. They do not tell us that there will be no suffering in the Christian life, nor do they tell us that the Christian life will be blessed with health and wealth and no pain. In fact, if anything, they tell us the opposite. Paul tells us that he lived in hardship and persecution, suffering for Christ and with Christ – and his words are full of the profound mystery of the intersection of brokenness and the peace of God that passes all understanding. The Psalmists wrote of isolation and imprisonment, of sickness and danger. And in the centre of it all we have Jesus, a man of sorrows who knew the great depths of suffering like no other.

I always think it would be so hard to follow a faith where the deity remains outside of our understanding and experience. Christianity is unprecedented among faiths in that God became one of us and sunk into our pain and mess with us. The incarnation points to the beautiful and complex intricacies of the fingerprints of God amongst us; a God willing to lay aside all his majesty and fall into the dust, to suffer and die, to take all our pain and sin and mess upon his body. It is a mystery that cannot be contained in words, but a mystery bursting at the seams with hope and life, and one that speaks loud into our own agonies like nothing else.

And this, ultimately, is what lights our path ahead; the knowledge that God is not far away, but is with us by his Spirit and in his experience of broken humanity. On days I have nothing left I can only look back to God, as the Psalmists so often did in their wretched poems of sadness and yearning. I can still choose to ‘yet praise’ within the days of trouble.

This winter will be long and bleak, and bleaker still for some of us, for many reasons. But winter ends in a glorious awakening, and God reminds us of that in a love song:

‘See, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone.’ (Song of Songs 2:10)

One of my poems from my new book incorporates this theme, and so I would like to share a few words from this poem with you today, with the prayer that God will speak to the deep places in you and flood you with a hope wider, deeper, longer and higher than you could ever imagine:

Oh hasten the day
when death flees away
when the winter of mourning
melts to joy in the morning,
when bleak shadows are drenched
in the glory of your dazzling light,
when darkest places and worn-down wastes
are crushed in the power of outrageous grace
The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone,
find love that is deep and love that is long
find immersive light and ageless depths
find crazy love in inexorable breadth
Oh hasten the day
when night flees away.

Treasure in Dark Places is a collection of poetry and short stories which are re-imaginings of biblical accounts and encounters with Jesus that take the reader into the heart of the stories, where you yourself can experience and encounter the God who loves you, and where you will find resonance and comfort in your own struggle.

Click here to see the trailer video

Liz Carter is a writer and poet from Shropshire who likes to write about finding gold in the mess of life. She is the author of Catching Contentment: How to be Holy Satisfied (IVP) and her new book, Treasure in Dark Places: Stories and poems of hope in the hurting, is out now.

Light in the Darkness by Liz Carter part 1

On By auntyamoIn Darkness and Light, Guest Posts, Health, weight & wellbeing, Poetry, Writing, Blogging etc1 Comment

Continuing the theme of Light and Dark, I am delighted to welcome Liz Carter to the blog. She will be sharing today and tomorrow, and we’ll hear about her new book, Treasure in Dark Places: Stories and poems of hope in the hurting.

So, over to Liz…

With the clocks going back and the winter drawing in, many of us are living with a creeping sense of dread that coils around us like the fog on a chilly winter day. As the days grow colder and the nights darker, we often feel enveloped in gloom, and now more than ever, as we wonder when all this will come to an end. Winter seems to stretch ahead with no promise of hope, with no sparkles of joy to look towards and wait for with anticipation. Winter 2020 seems like a pit of nothingness, a black hole of rubbishness and sadness.

Perhaps, for some of you, it’s not just 2020 that feels that way to you. Perhaps you’ve lived through years where the nights are too dark and the air too frozen around you. Maybe you’ve been living with sickness, physically or mentally, or living with grief, or other burdens which have left you bruised and battered, unsure where to look for any signs of hope.

For me, this year has been tough, but my whole life has been lived in pain, to some degree, with a chronic lung condition from infancy. This year I went into shielding in March after receiving the letter that punched me in the gut with its words instilling more fear in me: I’d been identified, it told me, as someone with risk of severe illness if I caught Covid-19. I separated out from my family and lived in my room for almost five months, caged into a life without touch or the usual family interaction. It was tough. It sent me spiralling mentally, into restless, tearful nights and days that seemed to stretch too long at times.

But God kept sending me little reminders of his presence and his love. As I began to let go of some of my fear and pour out some of my restlessness into poetry and other forms of writing, God spoke peace into my heart, and even sparks of joy at times.

God reminded me that it is sometimes in the darkest places where we find unexpected treasure, where light is able to break through in even more splendour, puncturing the blackness and calling us on towards the hope we find in Jesus.

I wonder if you have ever felt that you should be happy at all times as a Christian. Perhaps you’ve even heard teaching encouraging you to claim prosperity and health in all areas of your life, that because God is a generous God he will give you these – you only need to ask. Perhaps you’ve felt unable to share honestly about tough times, because you have been led to feel that you are, in some way, failing God because of your struggle. You hear the great triumphant stories of healing and wholeness, of God coming through for people when they are suffering, of God’s great and miraculous provision. But when it doesn’t seem to happen like that in your life, you can be left sad and alone, hugging your suffering to yourself in the mistaken idea that you cannot share it with others, because it might put them off the idea of faith.

Yet the more I dig into Scripture, the more I find the most starkly honest writings there poured out for all to see, overflowings of emotion and anger and sorrow spilling onto the pages – most of the prophetic writings are like this and the Psalms are full of songs of lament as much as songs of praise. Tomorrow I will write more about that and share one of the poems from my book

Thank you Liz. It’s a blessing to read such refreshing honesty in difficult times.

I look forward to hearing more. In the mean time, Liz’s book Treasure in Dark Places: Stories and poems of hope in the hurting can be found here. Until tomorrow… A x

Bleak Midwinter? a guest post

On By auntyamoIn Guest Posts, Health, weight & wellbeing1 Comment

Here’s another in the December guest post series.

This one if from Judith Parry. Judith and I were just getting to know each other when she moved out of South Wales. I’ve tried not to take it personally. 😀 You can read her thoughts on her blog by clicking here, where you can find info about her beautiful new #chapbook ‘Taking Flight’. Judith is a Tweeter too @DithParryTea 

I’ll hand over to her…

Bleak Midwinter?

Since our recent move to a village in rural Staffordshire, the Husband has taken to watching Countryfile. I think he believes it makes him more of an authentic country dweller, despite calling every plant he sees a weed and every bird a thrush. That said, I confess to being a bit of a fan of armchair farming myself, but in truth my agricultural expertise extends mostly to popping a few spring bulbs in the ground.

During one episode of our new viewing pleasure, the presenter mentioned a process called vernalisation. This tickled an ancient undergraduate memory from my days as a student of Biological Science, and took me to the fount of filling-the-gaps-in-half-remembered-facts known as Google. I rediscovered there that vernalisation, the word being taken from the Latin vernus “of the spring”, is a something which crops such as winter wheat need to undergo in order to flower well the following season.

It happens something like this. If these wheat seeds, sown in autumn, have not had the requisite amount of days below a certain low temperature, they go on to produce a poor crop. Conversely, if the seeds have experienced a prolonged period of deep cold during the dark days of winter, they will flower well once the days lengthen and the weather warms, eventually producing an abundant crop.

Now, I do love a good metaphor, and this biological process speaks volumes to me. Sometimes, such as in periods of grief and loss, we just want things to be over. We would prefer to fast forward through the cold, hard times, or to go around them completely, circumventing the process. I know there were times when this was true for me, when I did not want to engage with the pain and sorrow, did not want to let grief do its work. I discovered however that there are no shortcuts, not if I desired to grieve well. To undergo my own vernalisation. I found that in attempting to short-circuit winter, I risked stealing some of the abundance of spring.

That is not to say we have to like it, for who truly enjoys those cold, dark days of pain? We can however draw close to God, let those who love us gather around, and so get through it as best we can. Winter can be hard, cold and seemingly endless at times, but experience tells us that this too shall pass. Seasons come and go, in rhythms and cycles, and our spring returns again.

In the meantime, we have a choice: whether to seek to avoid winter by hiding in denial and evasion, or alternatively to face – even embrace – the sharp cold pain. The season of abundance will return, bringing with it sweet results of the lessons grief has taught us in the dark. In the meantime, our actions help determine how fruitful – or fruitless – this coming season will be.

photo credit: PATRICE OUELLET Inverno (Winter, Hiver) via photopin (license)

Falling Out with Christmas – a guest post

On By auntyamoIn Christmas, Guest PostsLeave a comment

Today I welcome one of my fellow Association of Christian Writers friends to the blog, Keren Dibbens-Wyatt. Here Keren is sharing her thoughts on her changing ‘relationship’ with the Christmas season. Leaving us with lots to think about…

Falling out with Christmas

Christmas and I don’t really get along any more. We had a bit of a falling out somewhere along the way. It was okay when I was little, and someone else made it all happen, and it was quite fun when I was well and still young enough to enjoy parties. But since I became chronically ill, and chronically spiritual, the whole razzle dazzle thing has lost its charm.

Now I feel like we are childhood friends who have outgrown one another. Christmas seems like a time when we are all supposed to fix a grin on our faces, trawl round the shops looking for the perfect presents (which lo and behold are the very things which are the latest or most expensive), pretend we like everyone in our family, wear ourselves out writing cards and bankrupt ourselves buying the stamps to post them with and then pig out on way too much food. The one imperative thing is that we must, absolutely must, enjoy it, or pretend that we are.

But of course, as Christians, we know that’s not what the festival is really about. And yet, we all seem to buy into that whole perfect commercial fuzzy-feeling happy wonderful magic buzz. And when that’s not there, disappointment lies in wait. The whole thing feels like a hiding to nothing. And I wonder how, as someone who this year will see no-one but my husband, because family have all moved away and I’m too ill to socialise anyway, that whole “you must have fun” yuletide directive still finds its way into my head.

I think it is because I really do want to enjoy it. I really would like to recapture some of that childhood excitement and magic. I do want the candle halo to make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. But for me, now, feasting means something very different than it used to. It’s not about food or drink. It is about becoming so engrossed in the miracle of “God with us” that I feel like I’m bursting with joy inside. It is about the wonder of the person of Christ, the Logos Word of God choosing to become an embryo, to grow within a woman, to be born into this divinely messy world. It is that willingness to set his power aside and make himself utterly vulnerable, that blows me away at Christmas. It is a beginning that inevitably leads to the cross, which makes it all the more amazing.

The whole thing is incomprehensibly loving and vast. And so, for me, and for all those who share this faith, the celebration is one I carry in my heart every day of the year. It doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the feasting, it just means that we hold it precious in a way that makes the presents and the mince pies simply symbols of love and joy, and not the centre piece of the day. Maybe if I can remember this, some of that worldly pressure might fall away, and Christmas and I might learn to like one another again.

Keren Dibbens-Wyatt is a disabled writer and artist with a passion for poetry, mysticism, story and colour. Her writing features regularly on spiritual blogs and in literary journals. Her full-length publications include Garden of God’s Heart and Whale Song: Choosing Life with Jonah. She lives in South East England and is mainly housebound by her illness.

Photo credit: Pixabay

Some Christmas & Winter writing…

On By auntyamoIn Christmas, Guest PostsLeave a comment

I can hardly believe it is already December 10th! Where have the last couple of weeks gone. NaNoWriMo has come and gone and I’m pretty happy with my mass of 50,000+ garbled words. As I mentioned before, I’ll be returning to the Isaiah series in the Spring and am welcoming some guest writers to the blog over December.

I’m just sorry to be so late starting…

To kick off, here is a piece from my dear friend, back in Ireland – Mary Barber. Mary has shared on the blog before – you may remember ‘Paradise on a Penitential Island.’ I love her writing so much and am delighted to have her back. If you’re not familiar with Irish mythology, you might need to google some of the names. Mary seems to have entitled her piece, ‘Christmas Thingy,’ 😀 but I’m going to pull rank as editor and call it…

Darkness and Light

I don’t know much about Irish mythology. Having said that, I do remember snatches of the stories of Oisín, and the Salmon of Knowledge, and Diarmuid and Gráinne, and they have a fond place in my heart. My favourite piece of modern art is Fionn MacCumhail and his dogs Bran and Sceolan at the roundabout on the Curragh [in Kildare]. There is wonder and power in our myths.

De Danann to me though just means great music from my childhood. I wouldn’t be one for believing in ancient gods that hid underground when the Celts arrived – it’s just not my kind of belief system.

Glorious Glendalough Photo credit: Annmarie Miles

I love the wonder and mystery that being a follower of Christ brings to my life. But in the run up to Christmas I find I have a lot more in common with the people that wandered this island in the days before pyramids.

It used to start too soon, but now Christmas is literally in the shops before Halloween. And this year the actual celebrating of Christmas was well underway by mid November. Real Christmas trees were bought and put up before Black Friday (don’t start me about the disregard for Thanksgiving!).

I’m just an old scrooge ruining the kids’ fun. Where’s the harm in celebrating Christmas early? I know how the criticism of my thoughts is expounded. Christians just hijacked pagan festivals….bla, bla, bla.

Sure they did.

God knew exactly how to speak to our hearts before he called Abram away from his home. He wrote it in our hearts that we would celebrate the light. And that’s what pagans did for thousands of years.

Not these modern pagans. They are too smart for that. They won’t fall for any Christian nonsense. So the tinsel and the trees go up in November and the celebrations begin.

But what is there to celebrate in November? The descent into darkness? In modern Ireland I can absolutely believe that a huge raft of our population would genuinely celebrate the encroaching darkness.

Allegedly, in Celtic tradition, druids would cut mistletoe and offer it as a blessing each solstice. And there is a myth that on the solstice each year the Oak King, in the Light corner, and the Holly in the Dark corner, would fight. And every year the Oak King of Light would be victorious.

That’s not bad for an ancient belief system…or any belief system. Darkness and Light in perpetual conflict, but Light always emerging victorious!

The ancients knew their stuff. They knew we didn’t want to surrender to the encroaching darkness. They knew we clung to the light and could never be sure there was a reason to celebrate until you knew for sure the light had triumphed. And to be sure to be sure, you’d wait a few days after the solstice before you’d celebrate – just to be sure!

And this is when I will celebrate – after the solstice, when The Light had entered the world.

Oh, and a Happy New Year!

The Daisy Chain of Events, and a pop for votes… :)

On By auntyamoIn Guest Posts, Letter to My Younger Self seriesLeave a comment

dispic meI’m overwhelmed at the response to the Letter to my younger self series. The comments and likes here on the blog, don’t reflect what a huge impact the series has had; but my reader numbers have never looked so good 🙂 and there’s great response on FB.

It all started with me adding an option of asking a question on the About Aunty Amo page. One question was, what would you say to your 15 year old self. So I wrote a letter in the form of a blog post and that gave me the idea of inviting a few others to do the same and I would post them here. And wow! What a collection!

The original Letter to 15 year old me has been nominated for Best Blog Post in Blog Awards Ireland. This is the only category that is open to public vote. Everyone can vote once a week and each week a group of the lowest voted are taken off the list. This continues until there are only 10 left and they will be judged.

I've never looked good on canvas...
I’ve never looked good on canvas…

I’d love to stay in for a few weeks so if you enjoy the letter to 15 year old me and you’d like to vote for it, here’s what you need to do.

  • Click the link below
  • Scroll down the list to ‘Just Another Christian Woman Talking Through Her Hat’
  • Click the little button just left of ‘Just Another…’
  • Scroll down to the bottom and click ‘vote’
  • If you’ve done it right, the screen will change to show you the voting numbers

 

Click here for the link, and thank you all again for reading and commenting (and voting…)! 🙂

Letter to my younger self – Dear Karen…

On By auntyamoIn Getting to grips with God stuff, Guest Posts, Letter to My Younger Self series8 Comments

Delighted to have Karen Huber bring the 3rd in the ‘Letter to my younger self’ series. Originally from Kansas USA, Karen currently lives in Dublin, Ireland with her husband and three children. She’s a stay at home mum and self-described lazy writer, blogging on faith, motherhood and culture at www.karenohuber.com. Find her on twitter at @karenohuber

Over to her…

Don’t be afraid, girl
I remember this age. Even now, I can see you.

You’re sitting on the slant of the roof. A dormer window allows you a bit of freedom, a smidge of rebellion. You have the attic mostly to yourself, a gift from the men of your church who spent sweaty August hours converting the space. You take pride in decorating it, setting up a desk, putting a calendar on the wall and creating soft light with a little white lamp. You sit and pick up the pen, one of those silvery blue ones with a fuzzy ball at the end, and you open the book.

Dear Diary, you write. You’re my only friend.

From this side, I know that’s not true. You have a veritable revolving door of girlhood friends. Amy and Jessica, Beth and Nicole. There are fights, to be sure, but you are not as alone as you think you are.

letterselfIn the pages of that journal, you write out the wrongs, the imagined slights and the heartache of hopes. You write plays in your head late at night, when the thunder rolls in. In primary school you graduate from sad stories with accompanying sad illustrations to book reviews and essays. Your teachers remark on this, reaffirming over and over what you refuse to hear.

You should listen. In fact, the sooner you listen, the easier this will all be.

I want to sit by your side on the roof of that pink house and tell you to stop sighing and winging, to relish the friendships. I want to tell you to perk the heck up and stop being so melodramatic about everything. I want to tell you to stop questioning the affection and worrying for the future, to remind you that not everyone leaves.

And I want to tell you: don’t be afraid.

Twelve is terrible. I know this. I am very literally wincing with humility at the memory. 23 years on and I look to your son; he will be twelve in six months. I’m tempted to be afraid for him, the emotions and the confusion, the hormones and the lack of confidence. I remember you then and worry for him now. But I will tell him the same and choose to believe it, too.

Don’t be afraid.

Oh, there are some caveats:

You will get sick on your communications teacher this year. Obviously, she will not be happy about.

Be kinder to your mother, your sisters. On this side, they will be your best friends, the ones who love you from start to finish.

Secondary school will start rough, but you will find your niche, your people and your voice. You’ll write again in the shade of your English class, and though you won’t be the smartest, you’ll get the highest mark. “You have something here,” your professors will tell you. And this time, you’ll listen, and it will carry you through university and beyond.

karen.square.headshotI’m not gonna lie. Things will get dicey from time to time. You are human, as is most everyone around you. But don’t be afraid. There is a holy beauty in the waiting, in the heartache, in torn pieces being mended.

And on this side, you will know:

Wild, crazy love will enter your atmosphere, sooner than you think (or want). A tribe of children will come to you, filling your heart and your bed in the middle of the night. Ireland will call you, a home you never imagined from the roof of that pink house. And God will wait for you, though you doubt and run, over and over.

Don’t be afraid, girl. Not everyone leaves.

Not even you.

*****

Photo Credits:
1. rolands.lakis via Compfight cc
2. Karen Huber – provided by herself

Letter to my younger self – Dear Rita…

On By auntyamoIn Guest Posts, Letter to My Younger Self series7 Comments

Our 2nd in the ‘Letter to My Younger Self’ series is from Rita O’Brien. I met Rita through a writing course in Lucan Library, South Dublin. You’ll see some of Rita’s fun and poignant work on the Lucan Writers blog. She’s also on Twitter @ritaobri

Over to her…

Ah, Rita, look at you sitting there – surrounded, God love you, by mini-mountains of books and copies and jotters piled up on the dining room table.  I’d feel more pity for you, though, if you hadn’t got Radio Caroline blasting out of that little PYE transistor radio beside you.  You can’t seriously be studying, now, can you?  If you were, you’d never, ever have managed to learn every single word of every song in last week’s Top 10, which you obviously did, judging by your impression of Dusty Springfield, Cilla Black and The Hollies while your Mam is gone to the shops.

medium_9692711856Less than a week away from the Inter Cert and you’re surprisingly calm and relaxed in yourself.  For some unknown reason, you’ve always enjoyed doing exams, though the Mocks weren’t exactly what you’d call a walk in the park! Well, just wait till you face the real test in two years time.  It’ll be some help having only 11 other girls staying on in your class to do the Leaving Cert, but apart from the stress of trying to get as many Honours as you can, there’ll be the huge emotional upheaval you’re going to experience afterwards, when yourself and your schoolpals part company after 13 years together.  It’s not as if you can all keep in touch by phone because most of those girls’ families would go hungry if they were to try to save up the three hundred pounds installation fee, let alone afford the monthly rental.  And you can forget about meeting up regularly with them, too, unless you’re going to get two buses, at least, to take you over to the other side of the city where your Mam sent you to school.  When you’ve got a family of your own, that’s something you’ll look back on as part of her legacy to you.  Your children will be sent to the local mixed school where most of the neighbours’ kids – boys as well as girls!! – will be going, end of story.

At the moment, you’re imagining yourself, at 18, going off to do charity work in some Godforsaken part of the Third World, but I’d give that one a miss, if I was you, until you’ve at least survived a week-long mosquito attack, coupled with heatstroke and food-poisoning, in Majorca or Fuengirola.  You’d love to get into hairdressing, either, except that your Dad won’t hear a word of it – ‘That’s only for girls who haven’t the brains to do anything else’, so he says, with the result that you’ll end up doing the round of entrance exams to get a job in the Civil Service or in a bank or insurance company, and you’ll take the first place that you’re offered.  That ear-to-ear smile when you get the Civil Service Commission letter will soon be wiped off your face when you start work in the Tax Office.  Talk about a culture shock!  As the only Dubliner in an entire department full of people from outside the Pale whose sisters or brothers will come further down the panel than you, you’d better not expect to be welcomed with open arms.  You’ll hate it but you’ll stick it until something better comes along.

You’re under the impression now that, between school, home and your neighbourhood, you’ve already encountered all the personality types you’re ever going to meet.  Well, you’ve seen nothing yet, girl!  When you go to work, you’ll be lucky to find lifelong friends and the odd date, but you’ll also meet people at all levels who will be driven by their own agendas, needs, ambitions and priorities.  They’ll manipulate, inspire, exploit, influence, upset, mentor, frustrate, impress, torment, support, infuriate and bore you beyond belief.  Whether they will realise it or not, though, you’ll learn from every one of them.  It’ll take time, but you’ll eventually understand that learning what not to do will be every bit as valuable to you in life as learning the opposite.  You’ll have no problem standing up for yourself, and for others, if they need you to – a year or two in a trade union head office will instil that in you, amongst other things.

The years ahead will bring you lots of joy and surprises as well as sadness and disappointments, but I’ll guarantee you this much: decades from now, you’ll look back with an amazing sense of pride and fulfilment at how you handled the setbacks and even used them to your advantage at times.  Naturally, you’ll take the greatest pleasure from the happier events in your life, particularly the ones – and there will be a few, believe me – that will creep up on you unexpectedly.  You’ll come to your own realisation that the best things in life are, indeed, free.  If you’re in any doubt, just get yourself and your two daughters (now, there’s a surprise for you!) down to Glendalough for a walk around the lakes, or take a spin to Rosslare to sit for hours overlooking the harbour, have an hour-long chat with your sister on the phone or invite your pals around for a laugh and some group therapy washed down with a glass of wine or a cup of decaf.

Right now, you’re wishing that you could have a crystal ball to see what the future may hold for you, but what would be the point in that?  For starters, the surprises would be well and truly ruined.  And, because you’re always underestimating your abilities, you’d never for a single minute believe that you’ll possess the inner strength and determination to overcome the few knocks and shocks along the way.  It’d be like telling you that you’ll soon find yourself in Arnott’s front window, that you’ll get to meet a woman President of Ireland, face-to-face, in the Aras or see the Pope in Parkgate Street, that your Ma will be two-timing when she’s 73, or that you’ll still be going to Cliff Richard concerts when you’re 60 (which would make him, yes, 73!!).

Rita O'BThroughout the future, you’ll make choices and decisions where your heart won’t even let your head get a look-in and only time will tell whether you were right or not.  You’ll be contented with whatever you have, wherever you live, because the most important part of your future will have nothing to do with material things.  From the day that you give them life, your daughters will be the centre of your universe.  Every major step you’ll take forever after will be driven by their needs and hopes.  Nobody else on Earth will ever make you as loving, as happy, as loved or as proud as they will.  And you’ll be delighted to hear that, unlike yourself, they’ll be blessed with the company and friendship of loads of cousins, so you’ll have plenty of family hooleys to look forward to.  Having your Ma around until she’s 82 will be the icing on the cake.  You’ll miss her stories and laughs and advice so much after she passes on, but you’ll never, ever be able to remember her without smiling.  And in no time at all, what do you know but your first grandchild will bless your already charmed life?  ‘God’, I bet you’re saying to yourself, ‘I haven’t had as much as a kiss yet and she’s going on about me being a Granny’!

Even now, I can’t tell you everything you’re bound to want to know, but be sure of this one thing: you will, one day, find it in your heart to forgive Maxi, Dick and Twink for ruining your chances of celebrity stardom when they gate-crashed your Opportunity Knocks audition in front of Hughie Green in Parnell Square last year.  ‘Maxi, Dick and WHO?’, says you!!

If you want advice for the future, the voice of experience would tell you to have fun, to enjoy the twists and turns along the road ahead of you, to have no regrets, and to get back to studying your French grammar, because you are just going to love Paris more than anywhere else in the world!

Your older and, hopefully, wiser self. xxxxx

*****

photo credits:
1. dreams & pancakes via photopin cc
2. Rita O’Brien – provided by herself

Letter to my younger self – Dear Helen…

On By auntyamoIn Guest Posts, Letter to My Younger Self series7 Comments

Welcome to the first guest in this series of, ‘Letters to My Younger Self’.
I’m so delighted to have Helen Bullock here 🙂 She’s a great Twitter buddy.
Helen is a primary school teacher. She is the editor of ‘How I Learn’, a crowd sourced study of learning styles – you can find out all about her on her blog; just click here.
You can follow her on Twitter @AnseoAMuinteoir

 

Over to her…

 

Dear Helen

This is Helen now - even though she looks 18! :)
This is Helen now – even though she looks 18! 🙂

Happy 18th Birthday!! Hard to believe while you relish being 18 I’m here looking at 28 and thinking how much has changed.  You’ve grown a lot from that 17/18 year old you know now. You’re so confused right now about what to do in college, facing into your leaving cert and boys. Let’s face it boys are always going to be confusing at 18 but don’t worry, at 28 you’ve got it figured out 🙂

Anyway, I’m here to remind you of a few things and encourage you with a few others.
Firstly, study more. I can tell you now you did just brilliantly in your Leaving Cert but it was down to good planning and study. Yes the supervised study is a bore but you actually study there which is more than you do at home….Just get over it. Study. And don’t forget French, you will regret it if you don’t put the effort in. Speaking of French, be ready for your mock aural exam…you’ll have an embarrassing nose bleed and no tissues, maybe you should keep some in your school bag at all times! The teacher won’t appreciate the mess you’ll make!!
There’s a time ahead when your college plans change, you’re planning on going to Mary I in Limerick to become a teacher but that doesn’t happen. Our parents can’t afford the rent and other expenses that come with you moving out but don’t worry. You do get there, you take the long road and are now a fully qualified teacher, it is not an easy road but without it you will miss out on meeting that guy you want and need to meet so don’t worry. Detours don’t hurt.
“Detours don’t hurt.”
When you do finally make it to college you need to remember to study. But if I’m honest, college is about finding who you are and what you want to be when you grow up. Yes you’ve always wanted to a teacher but it’s this time in college that allows you to explore other areas and jobs. Make friends in college, one especially will be your closest friend and you’ll need her in the future. Have fun, there comes a time when you won’t be having much fun and you have some your worst fears to face. Enjoy your first two years in college, the final year is the hard one and your memories will get you through it. Eventually.
Your taste in boys takes a while to mature, let’s be honest some of the boys you’ve dated have been eh, less than stellar; but one ahead is worth his weight in gold. There’s one however who comes pretty close to ruining your life, don’t let him. Yes everything will seem like a disaster but that friend from college will help you through it. The bruises will fade, the aches lessen, the nightmares become less frequent and the friends who matter will stand by you. The rest don’t matter at all. They’re not real true friends if they can’t or won’t stand by you now, yes you made mistakes but who doesn’t? The biggest mistake was choosing to wrong guy to be with but trust me everyone does at some stage. The main thing to remember is every experience teaches you something and this one will give you a lot of lessons and not all of them will be easy. Don’t give up, yes he hurts you, a lot. But you become stronger because of him, braver. Yes your confidence will be damaged but that guy I’ve mentioned will help.
You will eventually meet him,  he’s amazing. Ok so you won’t meet in the most conventional way, or even the way you both tell your parents. But by 2008 meeting online isn’t something to be ashamed of, over the next few years it becomes almost normal and a lot of your friends meet that way. They even find it settling that they’re not alone! By the time you write this you’ll planning your wedding so any ideas or demands now is a good time to think of them!
medium_9692711856Try not to worry so much about what people think of you, yes it’s going to be hard, you can’t help it and you are so self conscience of your clothes, that hasn’t changed much if I’m honest. There are times you still think you’re not good enough but you are. Some people just don’t matter. Ignore them. You are smart, clever and intelligent. Not everyone sees you for you and trust me they are the people you don’t need to be friends with. Make people laugh, you have a quick sense of humour, use it. Sometimes laughter is the best cure to defuse a situation and timing is everything.
“There are times you still think you’re not good enough, but you are.”
Save money. There’s a time when yes your savings go AWOL  but the habit of saving is a great one and at 28 trust me you’ll be glad you did.
As I write this and I think about my life at 18 and all the things ahead of you I can’t help but smile. Things weren’t easy at times but I’ve had fun and I know you will too. Don’t be scared by the rough times ahead, everyone has challenges but they shape who you are and who you will be.
Celebrate being 18 with your friends, enjoy the night, the moment because let me tell you the people who are there celebrating with you won’t feature much in your future. There’s just one who sticks around and she’s invaluable, keep her close. I’ll be celebrating 28 with friends, I don’t know if they’ll be around when I celebrate 38 but I know that the friends you have now (and the ones I have now) are some of the most important people in our lives, cherish them.
Be good to yourself.
Be safe.
Have fun.
From your older, wiser and often less sensible self
Helen
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photo credits:
1. Helen Bullock – provided by herself
2. dreams & pancakes via photopin cc

Starting tomorrow, a series of letters

On By auntyamoIn Guest Posts, Letter to My Younger Self series3 Comments

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Greetings all.

I’m delighted to be starting a series of guest posts here on auntyamo.com 😉

After writing the ‘Letter to my 15 year old self’, I found there’s a whole website devoted to writing letters to our younger selves. So I thought maybe some others might be up for an opportunity to do the same.

Over the next 3 to 4 weeks some friends and family will be sharing their letters here. Starting tomorrow with a birthday girl.

I hope you enjoy the series – and there’s room for a couple more on the schedule if you’re interested. Drop me an email. amowriting at gmail dot com

I’m looking forward to reading them all. If you haven’t read mine and you’d like to, click here.

See you tomorrow.

As always, thanks for reading.
auntyamo x

photo credit: dreams & pancakes via photopin cc