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Years ago I made a decision to leave the beaten track or perhaps the decision made me?

A peculiar sense of a whisper from life deeper than my understanding could reach, called me towards something completely and utterly unknown. I gave away all my belongings and leaped. And I fell. Hard. And I leaped again. And again. Somehow, like training a muscle, my sense of just to be, and even where to be when, grew stronger while the questions of how, what to do and what about money faded until one day I realized they had stopped taking up the ridiculous amount of mind-space it has an annoying habit of doing. Not only to me, I suspect. I don’t blame it though, it’s all it has ever learned, a program that doesn’t know better. What took its place was simply being. After all, we are human-beings, aren’t we? A dear friend once said to me “your being is your doing” after I once again had fallen hard and for all I know, he hit the spot and planted a seed of trust that I will never forget.

I have come across a lot of misinterpretation of the act of being as ‘doing nothing’. Once I was hurt by it, because I suppose I believed it too. Today it makes me smile. In my experience for what its worth, everything that arises from being has a natural, organic and quite pure core to it that doesn’t have an agenda, no calculating mind and no motive. It is simply something that happens to arise from the love and joy of it with no attachment to the outcome.

This way of living and being, some would call it being peculiar, an eccentric even. To me it’s simply being true to oneself not that of a programmed society that tell us how to think and live mostly controlled by guilt, fear. Makes one wonder, if we are all eccentrics, if we stopped trying to live up to what we are brainwashed to think and feel? I’m much honored in fact, to be called an eccentric (wouldn’t have been years ago when I was still fighting myself in a hopeless attempt to fit in) figuring in this post alongside Oscar Wilde, John Stuart Mill and Henry David Thoreau among others Eccentrics, Those Very Peculiar People by the sharp Malcolm Greenhill who knows how to put words to the line and get the message through, calling the reader to reflect (and ponder 🙂

Now, being the being in Ireland. After 5 nomadic years, one misty rainy day, 5 minutes before my bus leaves, I hear a traditional tune in a cozy little cafe and music shop in Doolin, Ireland. Something cracked open and I knew I had reached home. All I needed was to put my suitcase down. I looked around and thought why not ask if they need staff? A year later I was running the place which was also the door into a world of music and musicians I didn’t know existed. A new life awaited me and the tread is growing stronger and clearer for each day where art and creativity are playing an ever growing part.

luka_bloom_cafe_tour IBesides what I described in my recent post I am now organizing and managing my good friend Luka Bloom’s upcoming Clare Cafe Tour September 2013. We are having much fun creating this. Did I ever look for doing anything like this? No. It simply just happened from listening and following my gut and the resonance with people and their art and along the way receiving their genuine invitation for me to be a part of it. Although this way has become so very natural, it still makes me in awe of just how incredible it all is.

I’m still working in a cafe (another one) Doolin Cafe, one of the venues for the cafe tour and I enjoy it much; great people, really good coffee, wonderful customers (for the most part), amazing food and good craic! So much for 6 years in University, however I regret nothing. On the contrary it has all given me insight in many walks of life and how many ways there are to live our lives. There is obviously no one correct way, yet we all respond to genuine kindness and to be listened to, without bias. This is essential to my art of coaching which too has found it’s own peculiar way, a way I honor deeply.

The Burren January 2013 069 - Copy - CopyIt happens my outlook on life can inspire others that passes by; here is a story, or rather two, from Aimee: Aran Islands and Hanne – Doolin, Ireland and a visit to Mullaghmore in the Burren can do wonders for a sensitive soul Mullaghmore – Clare, Ireland


Know to be and the rest will follow…

Click here for a little poem I wrote about Mullaghmore.