Ireland itself

Well, Ireland is almost painfully green. So green you almost ache with joy.

It was cloudy and drizzly most of time I was there this time. Which isn't much different from most of the other times I've been there. On Thursday, when one of the leaders was driving me and a participant from England back to Dublin, it was sunny and remarkable. A bit ahead of Connecticut in the coming of Spring though, I believe, a tad further north...and green, I kid you not, like this kind of green--GREEN!!!

And the Irish folks are like Canadians, calm and quiet and sweet.

And there are more accents on that small island than in the immensity that is the United States. At our completion with the leaders and assistants, I discovered that all the participants--except the one from England--knew that all three of the leaders had 'southern' accents--from Ireland. Most all the participants were from Northern Ireland, except for one from Dublin who grew up in America and was born in New Haven, CT, for goodness sake. Lord knows what the Irish make of her 20 years in Ireland accent.

I can't distinguish between the many accents, though I know they are different.

In our completion exercise, the Irish told me how 'American' the language of the workshop is and how some of it is off-putting for Irish folks.

Like this: the Promise of the Workshop is--"You can have anything you want out of the workshop that you are willing to stand for haven gotten at the end of the workshop."

Apparently, the word 'gotten' or even 'got' (as in: "I got it") is considered terrible grammar in Ireland. And one of the leaders told me how a relative made fun of her for saying "got".

Who knew? English is more than one language.

There are only 4 million or so folks on that Island and one and a quarter million of them live in Dublin. I tried to think of how many American cities have more people that all of Ireland. Half-a-dozen, I think.

And there are sheep and horses everywhere.

One of the participants told me that after the bust of the Celtic Boom, many horses were euthanized because people couldn't afford to keep them. What a painful reality. They really do kill horses, don't they.

I still wince when I think of that.

Such a glorious Island--greener than green can be--that had to do away with horses when the Boom went bust.

Ponder that, if you dare....

The Workshop in Ireland

It was great!

I had a couple of huge breakthroughs: first, I discovered I can 'coach' others to lead the workshop. I've been to Ireland 6 or 7 times, maybe more, and always, before this time, I led parts of the workshop. This time, I was 'the coach' for three Irish workshop leaders and wasn't 'in front of the room' at all, except for one session of centering prayer. And my 'coaching' worked and the workshop worked, as it always does.

My second breakthrough (huge) was that the workshop works when leaders don't lead like I would lead!

I think I am a superb leader of the Making a Difference Workshop. I am able to invite participation and adroit in responding to the participants. I know the distinctions well and have homey stories for each of them. I'm good on my feet and, in the way that I am, charming. I'm probably not as urgent and 'sharp' as I could be, but I'm very good at what I do.

None of the three workshop leaders I coached last week lead the workshop anyway near the way I do. But the workshop worked (that's one of the mantras of the leaders: 'the workshop works!') without anyone leading it the way I do. Good to know that there are leaders ready to carry on without 'being me'....

I've spent over a quarter of a century of my life being involved with the Making a Difference workshop because it meant so much to me when I was a participant. I regret not one moment of all that time and travel (even a homebody like me...) and this time in Ireland, I realized the workshop will 'keep on keeping on' even when I'm not leading it.

That's good stuff.

(Every single time, the participants 'look different' at the end than at the beginning. Empowered and transformed. Just getting to see that 'glow' at the end makes it all worth the effort.)

hours

I woke up about 5:45 a.m. so I could catch the 6:30 a.m. shuttle to the Dublin Airport. I flew for 7 hours and slept at least two of those hours.

I was all excited about getting five hours back.

But I've just, addled as I am, worked it out.

I've been awake since 45 minutes past midnight here and it's now 9:45 p.m. so I've been awake, except for a two hour nap on the airplane, for about 21 hours.

So, as soon as I walk my dog, a couple of hours earlier than he would like since he didn't go and come back from Ireland, I'm going to bed, having, I now realize, been awake for almost a day.

Good night. Sleep Tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite.....

The Irish and eating

OK, I eat as slowly as anyone you know. I just do. Chewing 40 times, not wanting to swallow too much at once, enjoying food at a leisurely pace--stuff like that.

And also, for a fat-ish guy, I don't eat a whole lot.

At Dromatine the staff serves your lunch and dinner. Breakfast you are, gracefully on your own, unless you let one of the wait staff dish out your 'porridge', which I would call 'oatmeal' and never want as much as they will give you at Dromatine.

Going through the serving line is like this: "One slice of beef/pork/lamb, please." "Oh, here's a second just in case." "No potatoes please." "Just two, if that's alright...."

For lunch one day, we had a curry to die for, really, they can really cook at Dromatine. And they found a way to have potatoes as well--curry and chips, I swear that was what they did, not even asking, not even believing I might not want 'french fries' with my rice and curry though I was saying I didn't.

Thing is, I never finish my meal, never clean my plate at Dromatine.

All the Irish do, even eating with their knife in their dominant hand and their fork in their other hand and doing things to their food I couldn't begin to do, being American and cutting with my right hand and then eating what I cut with my right hand with a fork.

Then the 'pudding' comes...want it or not.

I had a piece of cheesecake the size of a saucer.

It was very good.

In spite of myself, I ate it all, finishing a good 8 minutes after everyone else at my table.

The swans of Dromantine

I've been to Dromantine--the home of the Society of African Missionaries in Ireland--twice before this time. It is a breathtaking place, a manor house worthy of Downton Abbey, with the addition of a modern retreat house,. And at the bottom of the Great Lawn is a body of water larger than what New Englanders call 'ponds'...it's really a small lake.

(Google 'Dromantine' to see some views.)

And both times before one of the things I'd do early in the morning and as light was failing, was watch the pair of swans who live there.

This time, coming in, I saw only one, up on the bank. Later, I saw only one, swimming and feeding on the water. The next day I saw only one, up on the bank again, looking distracted or (as I anthropromorphized it) 'sad', and I decided one of the swans had died.

I lived through that day and the beginning of the next, I was mourning for myself and for the swan. Swans mate for life and I was making the swan I kept seeing into a mournful widow/er.

Then I asked one of the guys who do all the work for the conference center and minding the grounds, 'when did you lose a swan'.

After three tries understanding his particular accent, I realized he was telling me that the female was nesting amid some bushes, out of sight, and the male (who I kept seeing) was 'out of sorts' being alone so much.

As we were leaving, a day and a half later, there they were, hugging the far bank, the female unwilling to venture too far from her nest, swimming together.

Swans are not like dogs or cats or horses or ducks or cows. Swans can be really nasty and aggressive. But they are so noble and beautiful and belong in settings like the waters of Dromantine.

It gave my heart joy all the way to Dublin knowing they were together still.

Home again...

I really am a homebody! As wonderful as my trip to Ireland and the Making a Difference Workshop was, I really missed being home....

The flight from Dublin to JFK was amazing. There were only 86 passengers on a plane that seats 190, so I had 3 seats to myself, as did lots of others. There were enough couples who sat window/aisle and had a seat in between that everyone traveling alone had 3 seats to themselves! The people in first class must have felt crowded if they ever deigned to look back in coach!

Payback came in the form of a 45 minute delay, for no reason announced, in the luggage from the flight. I finally asked a woman in an American Airlines blazer what the problem was. She got on a phone and the luggage started down the carousel before she hung up. Some luggage handler must have forgotten to flip a switch or something....

The flight left Dublin at 9 a.m. and I was home after waiting for my luggage by 2:30 p.m. It's great to get the five hours back I got robbed of on the way over.

I'll blog several times this weekend about the time in Ireland. See you then....

Going to Ireland

I'm flying out tomorrow evening and will be in Ireland at 7 a.m., when my clock will be at 2 a.m. Oh, well, I get those hours back on the way home next Friday.

I'm taking my lap top, I think I can get on "Under the Castor..." from there, so I might send you a few posts from the Emerald Isle. If not, I'll be back next Saturday.

There are not many reasons I would fly to Ireland overnight--but I'd do it anytime for the Making a Difference Workshop. I think I told you I'm not leading but coaching three Irish leaders in the expectation that they won't need an American any more.

I've been thinking about it and my life can be divided into BMAD and AMAD--before and after 'Making a Difference'. When I went I was burned out, seriously considering renouncing my priestly vows and trying to get my life back together. When I came back I was truly alive, had my priesthood all new and my life has been a joy ever since.

No wonder I felt so thankful that I became a leader of the workshop and am now a senior leader and coach of new leaders.

That's how much it gave to me. So, I have to give back.

So an old homebody like me will fly 7000 miles, miss a night's sleep and feel like I'm doing what I was meant to do.

Not bad, such commitments.

See you soon, or in a week....