Out of the black!

Here we go again, I am writing. I  am aware that there are no rules except for the ones I set for myself, but last year was very unproductive when it came to writing. Therefore, I am determined to get a blog post out once per month this year. I did not publish anything in January or February but so far in March this year I have already gotten two out, which means there is a third one needed, hence me working on this blog. I know there is no obligation for me to follow my plans, but now that I have managed to get back to writing and letting my inspiration flow I want to stick to my twelve blogs for 2024, at least! The hardest part was getting back to finding a topic and starting to put my thoughts in writing. Plenty of ideas up there waiting to be released. It is a cold but beautiful early spring evening, it has been raining, however the sun is shining now. My usual cupán tae, a candle on the table flickering to the sunlight, my words and I. Let’s give my inspiration a chance to shine!

At some point last year, after meeting with a good friend of mine from my university years, I decided that wearing black or dark colours most of the time was not right for me.She was so confident in her own skin, she was wearing bright colours and not trying to disguise her figure at all, she looked stunning, she had that unique confidence glow. The darker scale of tones had become some sort of shield to hide my faults, to hide myself, to hide who I am. My body has definitely changed, due to age and other circumstances, unfortunately it will not be the same again but I now find it pointless to wrap myself in dull, gloomy, dim, lightless, cheerless, lifeless colours. Camouflaging behind blacks and greys is an easy way not to accept who you are. Our society, social media, as well as fashion trends are still too focused and anchored on perfect bodies, on perfect hairstyles, on perfect skin complexions. The thing is that in reality they only represent a minority, since the majority are nowhere near to those standards. I am the majority. So, I made a commitment to get myself out of the black. Pink is now one of my favourite colours, followed by light greens and light blues. I love pink, it enhances my beauty, it highlights my look, it empowers my “Brave” look. Whenever I go clothes shopping I simply look for those colours, it has been working out pretty well.

There are those who, by using the “I want the best for you” card, think they are entitled to judge you, not the best for me obviously. They are the ones who dare to suggest that you wear baggy clothes so you can hide your imperfections perfectly. They are the ones who negatively comment on that new top you proudly bought the other day by saying it does not suit you. They are the ones who strongly disagree with that tiny bit of cleavage being shown as it is not appropriate. They are the ones who are eager to comment on your hair cut and colour just even before welcoming you in. They are the ones who will refuse to accept that the woolly hat and scarf you are wearing go well with each other. They are the ones who are only happy when you wear what they got you for your birthday, since they know what it suits you best.The thing is that they do not realise that they are the ones who ruin your self esteem, the ones who feed your insecurities, the ones who make you feel so unpretty, the ones who make you go backwards on your battle with your own gremlins, the ones who simply help you to dislike yourself more. Caring people can be very cruel even though they do not realise. 

A few days ago, just before my big birthday, I treated myself to a shopping session, accompanied by my partner and my second mum (one of my aunts in her eighties). As soon as I walked into the shop I scanned for pinks, light blues and light greens. I ended up bringing twenty pieces of clothes into the fitting room, with a couple of additions from my aunty and the shop assistant which were not in those colours. Let the fun begin, I said to myself. After discarding half of them, I asked my partner to take pictures of the ten left (different shades of blues, greens, pinks, reds, and whites) so I could see myself. When I saw myself in the pictures I couldn’t believe my eyes: I looked so pretty, so different, so confident, simply stunning in my new favourite shade of tones. It was a great idea to have pictures taken since the reflection on the mirror does not show the real look. You could see that the dark blue top I had tried was simply too dark ! Guess what? The five winners were: two pink tops (one lighter than the other), a light blue long top, and a light green jacket and top. My new palette of colours when it comes to clothing does really suit me. The next step is to be confident to actually wear them. Happy to be out of the black tough!

My learned piece of advice: life is too short to be hiding behind dark colours. There are plenty of other options out there which will enhance your own beauty so you can shine. Give yourself a chance to glow, you deserve it. We are all pretty in one way or another, it is up to us to be brave enough to free ourselves from those gremlins so everyone can see the gleam in our eyes. 

Simply be you, do not let others judge you by any means. Never forget your own uniqueness.  Just get yourself out of the black!

Jay Cee Moon ©

Forty-three plus seven equals me

Now that I am back to writing I thought I would give my fiftieth birthday blog post a go. Not sure how it is going to work since I have been dreading reaching the big five zero (who does not?). There are so many myths associated with turning fifty that one can only think of being terrified of that dreadful day. And now, let’s face it, the day is finally here. It feels so weird though. When I went to bed last night, I was still in my forties. I woke up this morning and those days are gone. As simple as that, a life change that is difficult to understand never mind processing it. As they say, you are as old as you feel. Would it be too cheeky to say I feel like being in my late thirties? Or just in my early forties? Probably, but who cares. The truth is, I do not feel like I have to hide it, I am who I am, I am what I am, I am me.

Why does forty-three plus seven equals me? I was born and raised in Catalonia, where I lived for forty-three years. A childhood between the late seventies and early eighties, great memories, things were very laid back: one could entertain herself with some marbles, Playmobil (I used to spend afternoons and evenings playing with my next-door neighbours) and a bunch of collectable cards, not that girly but I never like dolls that much. My teens with the music of the eighties (music became my hiding place), going to the cinema with my mum and my brother, helping dad with his work, my besties (“Magnis”), busy with my group of friends out and about, school bullying (which was not recognised as such back then, so there were no mechanisms to control or even avoid it, therefore I was left at the mercy of the bullies), writing to keep myself sane, and a great deal of struggles to understand who I was, the odd one. When I was seventeen I spent a summer month down in Cobh, Co. Cork, learning English, and Ireland caught both my soul and my heart, the seed had been sown. Half of my adulthood, between going to the university, spending time with my family, working, caught in a traditional mainly male world, and then getting married, followed by a separation.

After all those years, I was still living with the struggles of trying to figure out who I was: my teenage years together with my marriage had left me with a great deal of unsettled matters, which had led to me not being able to accept who I was. I had lost myself in a maze of low self-esteem, rejection, and guilt for not being as expected. If I looked in the mirror, I was not able to recognise to whom the reflection belong. I felt hopeless, helpless and worthless. What a burden to carry on my shoulders!

On the first of January 2017 I was on the plane flying back to Catalonia from Dublin after spending my Christmas break there all on my own. That day, I made my New Year’s resolution: I was going to move to Ireland!  So, twenty-six years later after that unforgettable summer in Cobh, I packed as much as I could in my car and got on the ferry that would take me to the Emerald Isle, leaving everything behind so I could make my dream come true. My partner every now and then, asks me what I was running away from, it was probably myself!

I have been living in Ireland for nearly seven years now, hence the plus seven. Difficult at the beginning, plenty of endeavours, but the key to discover myself. A journey to understand who I am, a pilgrimage to accept the person I had been ignoring for years, a crusade to be proud of who I have become after all. I am who I am and that is all that matters. Ireland has gifted me when a chance to unleash my inner me, to be comfortable in my own skin, to just simply shine. It may sound easy to have achieved this but every now and then, I am reminded of the need to congratulate myself for all the hard work. I am extremely pleased to call the Emerald Isle home, because as I said in one of my previous blogs, home is where the soul finds peace. However, I am still proud to say that I am one of those revel Catalans who still dream of a free Catalan Republic.

I have written far too much about my life’s shenanigans, but I thought it would make sense to explain where I come from and where I am now, happy with me merely being me. Difficult to summarise all of these years in just a few lines, challenging at times to concentrate on the positive outcomes, hard to not to get stuck in a labyrinth of doubts.

It is time though, to focus on my fiftieth, isn’t it? Not sure if there is much more to say, rather than how lucky I am to be able to live my life the way I want, to have finally found my own path to walk and share it with those who want to join in in my adventures, to have the will and boldness to do what I love in spite of the hardships. Not sure if there is much more to say, rather than how grateful I am for having had a chance to discover myself, for having had the strength to carry on despite the madness around me, for having achieved plenty of milestones to on my wall of fame. Not sure if there is much more to say, rather than how happy I am to have been brave to follow my dreams even though when they seemed impossible to accomplish, to have had the determination to never give up even though when I could not see any light at the end of the tunnel, to have risen from the ashes like a phoenix. Thanks to my parents and family for always being there, thanks to all of those who I have crossed paths in a way or another, thanks to my partner for encouraging me to just be me.

I would like to finish this blog post with a toast to myself for being brave to follow my dreams, for being proud of who I have become, for being just me after many years of hiding. Well done me!

Jay Cee Moon ©

Out and about, in and around!

I am back! Although there is no way I can catch up with all my overdue blogs from last year and this year. I guess it is just a matter of accepting that sometimes life itself has different plans, that at times your enthusiasm may be tainted by a shade of procrastination, that every so often inspiration needs to be turned off to let your mind process the shenanigans of your existence. The key is to remain true to yourself and do not get lost in a maze of guilt. At the end of the day, there are no rules, no impositions, no obligations other than the ones we set up for ourselves. What really counts is the fact that I am here writing again, and a new blog will be out soon. Let’s be positive, let’s be proactive, let’s be creative. 

A year has gone by and I have not been able to sit down and write. Bright early spring evening, my usual cupán tae, a candle flickering away. My mind is buzzing with lots of words awaiting to be freed. It is great to see that my writing skills have not vanished away. The difficulty is now to decide what my blog will be about: too many ideas to choose from. Since my last one, there has been a clear constant pattern: get out! Despite the rain or the cold, get out. Despite the tiredness, get out. Despite the lack of time, get out. Despite what needs to be done, get out. Despite what holds you back, get out. Despite what is worrying you, get out. Despite not feeling motivated, get out. Despite not feeling like it, get out. Despite not having the energy for it, get out. Once you are out and about, you quickly realise that it is the best thing you could have done! 

I have been out and about, as much as I have been able to, no regrets. Because, it is so easy to get stuck in the thick webs of life commitments. It is so easy to become a prisoner in the cells of the “it is too late, I am too tired, I do not have time” excuses. It is so easy to forget that those little things can make such a big difference. On the other hand, it can be difficult to break free from the chains of our responsibilities. It can be difficult to escape from the ties of our job and housework routines. It can be difficult to stop and focus on the here and now. If you just carry on with your life, you may end up realising that the weekend is over without having recharged your batteries, that the summer is nearly gone without having packed it with loads of new memories, that another year is about to come to an end without having had a dream come true. 

Out and about. It does not have to be the most exciting adventure, or the perfectly planned day out, nor the best trip abroad ever. Simple things are the best treat for the soul. Simple things gift us truly enjoyable moments. Simple things make us feel alive. Make yourself a cup of tea and sit outside in the garden, I may have already said that a few times. Get in your car and go for a drive while listening to music and  singing along, probably mentioned that before too. Grab your flask and head to the seaside. Go to the supermarket and indulge yourself with a pack of dark chocolate biscuits. Go to one of your favourite clothes shops, pick up a few pieces and try them on. Get your camera and capture colours, shades, nature. Feel the rain on your skin, feel the sea breeze on your face, feel the cold give you goosebumps.Walk along the beach and collect shells and seaglass. Go to a second hand shop and search for treasures. Embrace the sounds of the ocean and let it carry your worries away. Out and about.

On the other side, I have also been in and around. It has been a difficult year for me, a lot going on: my body trying to cope with the stampede of changes, my mind trying to silence those gremlins of mine, my brain struggling to process irrational issues, me trying to understand that some things have changed forever, me trying to survive to the joys of commuting, me trying to be me despite the circumstances. There is no doubt that the shenanigans of my existence have kept me occupied and preoccupied. There have been days, evenings, mornings, when doing nothing and staying in has kept my insanity under control. There have been moments, when just going for a lay down has helped both my mind and body to restore. There is nothing wrong in not being productive all the time, there is no reason to feel bad about doing nothing, there is no shame in not being in the mood to be out and about. 

One could say though, that I have managed to find some sort of balance between being in and around, and out and about. At least, this has worked out well for me so far. It is not all about being active all the time, buzzing around like a busy bee. It is not all about relaxing and doing nothing all the time, sleeping like a sloth. It is in fact a matter of finding your own life balance: an ounce of out and about and another ounce of in and around: just my recipe.

Jay Cee Moon ©

Come on, let’s do it!

The second month of the new year is coming to an end, which means I am just a little bit behind schedule. As I was writing my last blog on the last day of 2022, I decided that I would have a blog out every month in 2023, at a minimum. January is said to be a very slow month, dark and cold, so I thought I would have plenty of time, but for some unknown reason time flew by very fast. February is a short month, the beginning of what is ahead of us: longer and brighter days. Therefore, I thought I would have more energy, and inspiration to write would blossom, but for some unknown reason time has flown very fast this month once again. The Christmas season seems so distant, the excitement for the New Year’s resolutions is well gone, and routine has settled in again. Here I am, finally getting my new blog ready, my first of 2023. My usual candle is flickering away, my cupán tae will keep me going, words waiting to be released. I am nicely wrapped with my fleece blanket, it is still bright outside, but the wind is bitterly cold, freezing!

The other day, I was going through the list of blogs I have published so I could make my mind up on what to write next. It was nice to pause, just look back and take in what I have written about.  It is so easy to simply keep moving forward, but at the same time it is so important to reward myself by looking at my achievements. I was lost on my own thoughts debating my options when my partner came in. After reading my list (he had no other choice as I had handed it to him… Lol), he realised that there was something I had not written about yet, my “come on, let’s do it” attitude. If anyone reads all my blogs, (who would dare to do so?)  I would probably come across as someone who likes to relax, who enjoys quiet corners, who simply sits back and watches the world go by. Do not get me wrong, that is me, at times. Despite relishing resting and pausing I have a passion for life, for being alive and for making as many new memories as possible. Life is too short, to just sit down. One of my mottos is live life to the full!

When it comes to pack special moments and experiences, I am always ready. When it comes to invitations and challenges, I am always eager to take them. When it comes to adventures and being alive, I am always making plans. Whether it is doing some volunteer work, an impromptu walk on the beach, getting the garden tasks done, having breakfast in the courtyard on a Sunday chilly morning, jumping on the car to go for an outing despite the heavy rain, tidying that room or those corners full of clutter, taking that unexpected turn to discover where it will bring us to, improvising a picnic for an unplanned day out, booking tickets for a concert even if it is late on a work day, getting ready for an unexpected cinema session, painting the fence out in the garden, booking a long weekend away somewhere quiet in winter (and then doing plenty of walking… Lol), candle light dinner out of the blue, following the less travelled road(s). I do not have time to procrastinate when life knocks at my door. It does not matter if it is cold, if I am working tomorrow, if heavy rain is on the way, if it seems to be late, or if I am tired, I will nearly always say: “come on, let’s do it!”.

I am determined to seize almost every single opportunity, tomorrow it may be too late. One cannot live a life with regrets. At times I may be wrecked, I might have had a busy week at work, I could do with a couple of extra hours in bed, nevertheless I will be all set for the next adventure in no time. I will be prepared to take the challenge. I will be ready to make new memories by enjoying special moments. My determination has allowed me to make a few dreams come true, plenty more to come. My eagerness for life has brought me on the less travelled road many times, loads more to come. My “let’s do it” attitude has rewarded me with a life packed with memories, tonnes more to come.

Big budgets tend not to be required, just enthusiasm, a little planning and lots of energy! Making and enjoying these moments do not have to be a big project, a massive commitment, an arduous challenge. It may just be those little things, which can me a massive difference in our lives. They make us feel alive. They bring warmth to cold days. They embrace us when life is tough. Smiling back to a stranger when walking to work in the early morning. Thanking the bus driver who has waited for you when you are running to get on the bus. Praising the barista who knows exactly what you want to order without asking. Engaging with the cashier at the supermarket with some chit chat. Writing a thank you note. Stopping to smell the scented daffodils as you walk by. Singing along while driving home after a long day. Just a random act of kindness. Let’s do it! There is no need to wait till tomorrow when you may be less tired, when you may have a better day, when you may be in the mood. Do it now!

It is difficult to put down in words the magnitude of my “let’s do it” attitude. It possibly intertwines with the old Carpe Diem. Whatever you want to do, go for it. Do not wait for circumstances to be perfect, or procrastinate your plans, your projects, your dreams. Do not procrastinate on going for it with those little things, those special moments, those randoms acts of kindness. Do not procrastinate packing in more memories, feeling alive. Let’s do it. Let’s make sure time is not wasted. Let’s flavour the joy of small achievements.  I can guarantee you that once you get a sense of the “let’s do it attitude” you cannot stop it! It is addictive, it is invigorating, it is rewarding. Without even thinking you will find yourself planning what you can do next.

It is now time for me to say, come on let’s do it, let’s get some rest.. lol

Jay Cee Moon ©

Be kind to yourself, or kindness to myself!

I cannot believe that it has been nearly four months since my last blog. How easily one loses lose track of time and gets caught on the naïve thinking of “I still have plenty of time”. How often we forget that time flies, it does indeed! As usual, my brain has been busy working on ideas for this blog, although finding the right moment to write it has been a bit of a challenge. The same happened to me last year, crafts took over, so my blog was left aside, although the topic was added to my list a long time ago, in one of our walks along the beach. Nothing new, nothing I did not know, something I had perhaps been ignoring. Hearing my partner saying that he was surprised that despite me being always so kind to everyone else, I was so unkind to myself which made me realise a blog on the subject was due at some stage!

Today is the 31st of December, the last day of 2022 and here I am writing away. Classical music is playing in the background, a red apple wreath scented candle flicking, cupán tae in my seasonal mug to keep me warm, hand knitted blanket by a very special lady on my lap, and with the Christmas tree giving the room a nice touch. It is probably the best blog topic to close the year with, and probably the best blog to open the door to a new year. Let’s allow the inspiration of writing do its magic!

Why am I finding it so hard to be kind to myself? I always have a nice word ready for others, I always praise others for their achievements, I always try not to be judgemental about others. But when it comes to me, kindness seems to be hard to find.  I am always harsh on myself, as if there is no need to be considerate towards me.  I always find it difficult to accept praise, as if I am just doing what I am supposed to do. I am always judging myself as if prejudices were all entitled to be there. Being kind to others is effortless, being kind to myself is arduous. Why do I feel my compassion for others is more deserving than my compassion for me? I have not found an answer yet! At least, I am aware of the lack of self-kindness. I guess I am on the start of the right path to learn how to be compassionate with myself.

I do think that there is a very strong link between self-kindness and self-acceptance. The happier you are with yourself the easier it becomes to be nice to yourself. We all have periods, days and moments when we love ourselves less. Tiredness can make one be seen with tinted glasses of judgement. Stress can easily mislead us towards a staged tragedy of unsuccessful mistakes. Low self-esteem can detonate a cascade of negative thoughts towards oneself. Worries can trigger an outbreak of mischievous self-evaluation. Loneliness can bring along an army of those old gremlins who loudly whisper how disappointed we should be with ourselves. It is hardly impossible to be kind to yourself when any of these are around! On the contrary, we are more inclined to be nice to ourselves when we are full of energy, relaxed, and happy. When we are having a great time, positive energy flows and leads to a volcano of self-kindness. Reaching the top of a mountain after a tough climb makes adrenaline kick in, possibly bringing along an avalanche of self-praise thoughts. Walking along the beach while letting the sea breeze take your worries away, indulges you with a rainbow of self-compassion moments.  Looking in the mirror with freshly washed hair, a bit of makeup, wearing that piece of clothing you love, gives you an instant boost of self-esteem which automatically takes you to being kind to yourself by simply saying “you look stunning”. Being kind to yourself gives you a special aura, that shiny glow of worthy self-awareness.

Get yourself a nice bunch of flowers, take yourself out for a coffee and a delicious pastry, do what makes you smile and shine, make the effort to congratulate yourself for an achievement, and remind yourself that you are worth it! Pause to reflect with kind eyes, flatter yourself when looking in the mirror, remind yourself that you are amazing, appreciate those little things that make you feel alive, and stop to praise yourself! Take time to yourself, embrace the moment of great success, hug yourself when feeling low, enjoy being on your own, and breath in the wonder of you! Just simply be kind to yourself.

Self-compassion needs to be practised; I know that. It will not become routine overnight, it takes time. It is not an easy task, but when practised it is worth it. As part of my journey to be able to be kinder to myself, I am going to wrap up the last blog of 2023 with a self-compassionate reflection. Congratulations to myself for all the hard work over the last twelve months, for having passed my one-year probation, for surviving the long commutes to and from work, for all the creativity which has lead to move forward on my crafting adventure, for the nine blogs published this year, for hanging on there when times were tough, for bringing enthusiasm to whatever I am involved with, for my determination, for being brave, for my kindness to others, for always being true to myself, for all the acquired knowledge, and especially for simply being me!

Thanks to my partner for believing in me, when I don’t. Thanks to all who have contributed to me becoming a better me. Thanks to all of you for reading my blog. Here’s to a 2023, full of new adventures, with plenty of choices to make new memories, and of course loads of inspiration to keep my blog going!

Jay Cee Moon ©

Fifty shades of dates!

After my series of blog posts on the Emerald Isle, which I truly enjoyed writing, it is time for me to go back to my usual sort of blogs. Over the last months I have been adding ideas, thoughts and titles for new blogs to my notepad, possible future blogs list is looking good! Busy months ahead again, that is for sure. Hopefully, I will be able to find enough inspiration to get them all done. Let’s have a cup of tea and get down to business.

I was determined to find that special someone to share life with. I had been single for just over a year, not too long one may say, but how long has one to wait to look for love again? There is no written law on that, well at least, I did not find one. So, after being in a very unhappy and unhealthy marriage, I decided to put myself back in the market, why not? Life is too short to be worrying over what others may say (isn’t that right dad!). I knew I deserved to be happy after what I had gone through. I knew I wanted to share my life with someone. I knew he was out there; it was just a matter of our paths crossing one day. What I did not know was how draining, demoralising and surreal to find a special person could be. What a journey! How I managed to go from date one up to date fifty, not sure. I guess I still blame it on my determination, my eagerness not to give up, and being a bit bold. She who perseveres, succeeds, lol.

I thought it would just be a matter of going on a few dates to strike the target. How naïve was I, indeed. I had my profile up in three dating sites. Date one, date two, date three … dates started to add up, but to my surprise, I was getting nowhere closer to succeed, at all. It was after a dozen dates when I decided to start counting them, just in case I ended up losing track of them. I grabbed a piece of paper and there I was writing down names after each number, hilarious! From ten to twenty, then to thirty, was I becoming a serial dater? I took a break, for a few months and then, there we go, back to dating and dating. Thirty become forty, with the blink of an eye. I then realised that I had reached the stunning number of fifty! In my defence I have to state that it took me nearly four years, from July 2015 to June 2019. If one does some maths, it works out as a 1.08 dates per month, lol. Well, if we deduct the break I took and the fact that I dated three of my dates for a period of two to three months, that goes up to 1.38 dates per month, still a decent rate.

Maths aside, the journey was a test in so many ways: self-esteem, patience, determination. It was also a master class on how to deal with rejection and rejecting, how to know what I was looking for, how to identity what I did not want to put up with, how to cope with frustration, and of course, how to escape from a disastrous date as quick as possible. Plenty of chancers, time wasters and cheaters. Plenty of rude men, ignorant ones, ordinary ones too. Plenty of them lacking empathy, energy, determination. The one who had uploaded a picture of ten years ago, if not twenty. The one who did not have enough strength to open the door for me. The one who at his late forties was still leaving with his parents and had no intention of moving out. The one who was sharing the house with the ex and her new partner. The one who was not able to add two and two or hold a conversation for more than one minute. The one who had addiction issues. And those, too many, who were scared of commitment. And believe me, when you think dates cannot get any worse, they do indeed. Rather than just a blog I could write a trilogy! On the other hand, I also met a few nice men, and made a couple of good friends. Including the one who introduced me to the world of Irish music, the one who encouraged me to follow my career goals, and the one who gave me great pieces of advice, and plenty of laughs.

It took me forty-five dates to be capable of deciding what I really wanted for myself and not settling for less. Date number forty-five was such a nice man, a true gentleman, we dated for nearly three months, but he was not what I was looking for. I had to break up with him, just to be true to myself. He was not ready for that, what we had was enough for him, unfortunately it was not for me. It was hard, but I had to. Proud of myself. The next five dates went from worse to worst. I was so frustrated, so devastated, so hopeless. Where was he? Did he even exist? What was I doing wrong? Actually, I needed to stop, give myself a break and just enjoy doing things again without being dating orientated.

It was a Friday evening, after a long busy week at work, I checked out what was on at the weekend in Dublin. Great, “Bloom Festival” in the Phoenix Park, I had wanted to go there for years so I bought a ticket for Saturday. Walking around gardens, plants and flowers would definitely do me good. As I was walking up to get the shuttle bus to the festival, the weather was miserable, dull, and cold despite being the first of June. Luckily the sun had decided to brighten up the day as I was wandering around the exhibition gardens. I fancied a coffee and a piece of cake. Glad I was able to find a table at the Phoenix café, because as I was looking through all the many pictures of flowers on my phone, a man asked me if the chair next to mine was taken, not yet I replied. I was well trained by then to the Irish way of sharing tables, lol. We started to talk about Bloom, plants, and flowers, and I ended up sharing my piece of cake with him. By default, he became unexpectedly unexpected my fifty-first date The rest, as they say, it is history. On that day I had finally found what I was looking for even though at that point I had not realised yet.

To all my fifty dates, thanks for the lessons, for the knowledge, and for the insights I gained a long the way. As one of my better dates said, I had to learn to enjoy the journey. On the most part, I did so, lol!

To my fifty-first date, thank you for being you and letting me be me.

As I always say, never give up. Life is full of surprises, whenever you least expected!

Jay Cee Moon ©

The Emerald Isle, my five years anniversary!

Today is the 28th of June, which means that five years ago, I landed in Rosslare!  This followed: saying goodbye to family and friends; an epic drive through France with my car packed with clothes, houseware, and some food essentials; tearful goodbye to my parents at the harbour in Cherbourg; a sixteen-hour journey on the ferry; I still can feel the sea breeze on my face while I was standing on the decks watching Europe mainland disappear in the horizon. The image of the sea waves and foam created by the ferry will remain in my mind forever. A rollercoaster of emotions and feelings embraced my travel. Excitement, worries, happiness, fears, thrill, tears. I was brave and bold. Despite the craziness of my decision, I knew I was doing the right thing for me. I woke up the following morning, grabbed a coffee and went up to the decks, and Ireland was just in front of me.

I am so glad I followed my dream and bought one way ticket on the ferry to Ireland. No regrets, just the fact that If I had not done it, I would have regrated it the rest of my life. It is not easy to go ahead and do what you want to do if you listen to what others says, or if you worry about what others may think, or if you focus on what will happen if everything goes wrong. I was in my forties, I had no job lined up, savings to keep me going for a few months, no accommodation sorted, just the will to give it a go. Ireland had caught both my soul and my heart a long time ago. I owed this to myself!

These five years have been an amazing journey, with plenty of ups and downs: with many great experiences and unforgettable memories made; with a never-ending list of places discovered, pictures taken, and miles driven; with lots of stories to remember, people met, and cups of tea shared. And at the same time, moments of loneliness, solitude, hard work, struggles, tears. Moments of not knowing what to do, where to go, how to deal with things. Moments of despair, confusion, helplessness. I can only say that relocating to Ireland has all been well worth it!

I have gained a place called home, where I can be just me, where my creativeness can flourish, where my soul has finally found peace. I have regained my life, so I can fearlessly follow the less travelled roads, so I can embrace the good vibes around me, so I can become a better me. I have achieved an outstanding milestone with these five years, which has allowed me to be proud of myself, which has entitled me to be able to choose, which has given me the chance of a new start. At the same time there have been some losses, I guess it is the price one must pay when moving to another country. Contact with friends has become scarcer, not being there leads to growing apart, nobody’s fault though, they are still part of my being somehow. The mourning period for family has come to an end, they are now living their lives without me there. What used to be home is now a place to go and stay. Things have changed, relationships have evolved, nothing can remain the same. I have changed.

My last five blogs have been a humble homage to the Emerald Isle. This one is a homage to myself for having made my dream come true, having been up for such an amazing challenge, for having achieved such an impressive goal. To celebrate and highlight this achievement, I have indulged myself with some nice presents:  a fantastic trip to Inis Oírr, we were gifted with a smashing sunny day while we could see the rain passing us by and heading to mainland; a new claddagh ring together with a trinity knot one; a crocheted green sheep by a local crafter ( we now call her Sheepy); a pendant with a message in old Irish – Ogham –  (my heart is in Ireland) made by a very special lady; a tweed hat by Triona in Donegal to keep my head warm; a handknitted green woolly scarf from the Aran Islands and a poster I found at the market in Bloom with the perfect message: born to be Wild on the Atlantic Way.

This blog is also a homage to those whose paths have crossed with mine and shared their stories with me, without them I would not have been able to write my last five blogs. To those who have helped me along the way, without them it would have been more difficult to settle down. To those who have believed in me, without them I would not be where I am today. To my partner, who has joined me in this amazing adventure. Go raibh míle maith agaibh go léir!

A new stage of my journey is now ahead of me, exciting times again! The opportunity of another five years in the Emerald Isle, plenty of more stories to come, plenty of more memories to make, plenty of more challenges to face.  I still have two more dreams to come true, who knows, may be in five years’ time I will have had a book published, or will be living in a cottage near the sea somewhere on the west of Ireland, or both. Dreams come true, you just need to be brave and bold to go for them. Emerald, the colour of hope!

Slán anois!

Jay Cee Moon ©

The Emerald Isle, its Irishness

June is already here, which means my fifth blog on the Emerald Isle is due! This series started in February as my humble homage to this amazing island which is home to me. Here I am, in June getting the last one ready. I have to say it has been incredibly enjoyable to try and put into words what these five years have meant. At the same time, it has not been easy to summarize all the good memories, the funny anecdotes, the amazing experiences, the unforgettable paths, the moments shared. Let’s get down to business: The Emerald Isle, its Irishness.  The initial list was long, but the chosen are for me the most remarkable ones. This time, I have made my mind up beforehand so I can officially say that I have the finalists aligned: thanking the bus driver, saying sorry, The Late Late Toy Show, the generosity of the Irish, the weather, the world goes green, Saint Brigid’s Day, ceol agus craic and the friendliness of the Irish.

It did not take me long to realise that people do actually thank the bus driver as they are getting off the bus. It took me a while though to feel comfortable saying thanks myself. One would never say thanks to a bus driver in Catalonia. Five years later, I feel kind of annoyed when people do not thank the driver! It is such a nice thing to do, it shows good manners indeed. The same as people saying sorry when they accidentally bump into you on the street, in the supermarket, wherever. They may not even have touched you, but they still do say sorry. The thing is that now I say sorry when I in Catalonia visiting family, but nobody seems to understand why as they look at me confused! Politeness, many countries lack it. Thanking the bus driver and saying sorry, what a nice heritage!

Since 1975, The Late Late Toy Show has become a Christmas tradition in most Irish homes. It is not just for children, or for families with kids, it is for everyone. It gathers families together, in the sitting room, in front of the tv, with a cup of tea and a blanket. It brings the whole country together. It makes us all feel special! It would not feel like Christmas if the show was not on. I have been watching it every year since I moved to Ireland and now, we even mark it on our calendar in the kitchen. Full of surprises, funny moments, touching stories, great opportunities, and human kindness.

The Generosity of the Irish is a must for me in this blog. Being such a small country, Ireland has a big heart when it comes to support others. I would dare to say it is the most generous country in Europe and very high up in the world ranking. During Covid, when people were out of work, donations kept going to contribute to uncountable projects in need. At a national level, or at a local level, people just give as much as they can to help others all year round. Whether it is money, food, clothes or whatever is needed, the Irish are more than eager to give what they can. It is contagious, you cannot help but do the same. The kindness of the Irish is for sure a heritage to celebrate!

The weather, the number one topic of conversation in Ireland. It is the perfect ice breaking on any occasion you may find yourself: in a lift, at the queue for the toilet, at the till at the supermarket, when ordering a coffee, waiting for the traffic light to turn green, talking to the shop assistant, or just simply when sharing a look with a stranger on the street. No wonder why it is such an important matter: four seasons in one day all year round! You get up in the morning to a beautiful, blue-skied day, not a cloud on the horizon. By midday the sky has turned grey, and the wind is howling. It is lunch time, you look outside and the wildest of the wildest weather is there: hailstones, strong winds and of course, torrential rain. And then, as if nothing had happened, the sun is back, and it feels like summer! Going out for a walk is the best thing to do, one naively thinks. Halfway through, it is starts to rain, one of those showers … at least we don’t melt in the rain …Lol.

Nearly everyone knows or has heard of Saint Patrick’s Day. What amazes me is how Ireland and its people have managed to make the world go green! It is so powerful: people from all over the world travel to Dublin to join in the celebrations as well as people all over the world wear something green to cherish the festivities. It is a day to embrace the Irishness!  My great discovery has been Saint Brigid’s Day, on the first of February, halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. She happens to be the saint patroness of Ireland. This day marks the beginning of spring and celebrates fertility. It has its roots in the ancient Celtic festival of Imbolc, where Brigid was known as a pagan goddess. I am drawn to Celtic traditions, for reasons unknown, and my soul nourishes with the power of the ancient Celts. I do now have my own version of the Brigid’s cross hanging behind the door.

Ceol agus craic (music and fun) are also part of the Irishness. The immensity of Irish music is incredible as I said in one of my previous blogs. Wherever you go music is being played, is being sung: at the hairdresser, on the street, in a craft market, in a public garden, in a pub. People sing along without any worries on what others will think. Most of the Irish have that wicked sense humour, sharp and bitter. Luckily, I also have it, probably thanks to my dad. They laugh about everything, including themselves. They call it sarcasm. I love it, it is so me.

The last, but not the least, the friendliness of the Irish. I have already written about it on the first blog of these series, but I feel like I have to add it to this last one. They make you feel welcome straight away, they are always ensuring you are part of the conversation, they treat you as one of them. They offer you a cup of tea even though you are a stranger, for them you are just a nice soul to share a brew with. They are always ready to help. Their home it is always your home, and they do mean it when they say “call by and say hello”. You have not even finished asking for something that they are getting it for you.

My humble homage to the emerald isle as I am heading to my fifth-year anniversary of moving here, has come to an end. Thanks to all of you who have read and commented on my blogs, who have given me the pleasure of your company along this journey, who have inspired me to discover the uniqueness of this amazing island which is now home to me.

Go raibth mile maith agaibh go leir agus sláinte anois!

Jay Cee Moon ©

The Emerald Isle, its language.

May has flown so quickly, just a couple of days more and it will be gone, which means I am behind schedule with my fourth blog on the Emerald Isle. It also means that my five year anniversary is nearly there, so excited! People, landscape, music and now its language: Irish and Irish English. Even though I am far from being fluent in Irish (another five more years will be needed, at least …Lol) I have managed to acquire a great deal of Irish English expressions as well as to adapt my pronunciation, so I do not sound like the ones from the island next door. Thanks to plenty of funny situations, I have commandeered a nice range of Irish English words and sentences. Not aiming to mention them all, otherwise I may bore you to death, I am going to share the more outstanding ones.

For example, you should have seen my face when a colleague of mine said to me: “Your man is not coming today”. My what? Excuse me but I am single, I do not have a man and I do not intend to have one! Obviously, I did not say that, I kept listening and wondering who “your man was”. One day I found out that ‘your man’, or as some say ‘yer man’, is used to refer to ‘that man’, and it has nothing to do with one being single or in a relationship. ‘Your one’, or ’yer wan’, is the female version, just in case you think it’s only men.

‘What’s the story?’ I was so confused the first time I heard someone saying that to me. Am I supposed to tell you a story? I do not really get it. The thing is, it’s just a way of saying hello or asking what’s going on? Glad I did not come up with a story! ‘Hiya, how are you?’ is probably the one that has caused me more trouble. In Catalonia, when someone asks you how you are, we usually talk for Ireland, we go on and on for ages. The Irish do not. It is a simple and polite greeting, with no real intention or interest to know how the other person is. With years of training and discipline, I now mange to just say “I am fine, and you?” rather than explaining how my day is going, or how my life is, or a mixture of both … Lol

I am grand. That’s grand. We are all grand! Here it comes, what is probably the most versatile word I have ever come across: grand. It is widely used, although its meaning changes depending on the situation, the mood, the weather, the day or where one is. Your man can say he is grand, even though he is having a tough day. Your one can reply she is grand because she has just booked a weekend away. If you are trying to load a heavy box into your car and someone offers to help you, you can always say: no worries, I will be grand. One can be trapped in quicksand but at the same time still be grand!

That’s gas! Oh no, hurry up, open the windows, let some air in and dial 112. Luckily, I did not do that when I first heard that. No need to panic, no one is in danger, everything will be grand because it is the Irish way of saying that something is very funny. It would have been gas If I had called the emergency services!

Let’s have some tea. Tea cures everything! When you are upset, tired, angry, depressed, lonely. Get yourself a cup of tea. When you need to talk, to relax, to get things done, to think, to disconnect. Get yourself a cup of tea. If you are cold, if you have had a tough day, if you need some space. Just get yourself a cup of tea and everything will be grand.

When someone says to you “I am just around the corner” or “I will be there in a minute” you’d better find yourself somewhere comfortable to sit down because it is highly likely you will be waiting for ages. You could have plenty of time to do the weekly shopping and still be waiting! And, do not forget to get yourself a cup of tea.

On the phone: How are you? I am grand. I shall talk to you later as I am heading to a meeting now. Ok. Bye, Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye. I have never stopped to count how many times ‘bye’ is said! The thing is that in Catalan we do exactly the same.

My Irish is very limited, just a few random words that I have somehow learnt how to pronounce: oíche mhaith (good night), conas tá tú? (how are you?), go raibh maith agat (thanks), uisce (water), bainne (milk), cáca milis (cake), mo ghrá (my love) and cupán tae (cup of tea) among others. Who knows, maybe in five years times I can write some sentences in Irish … Lol !

At this stage after five years, there will probably be more words and expressions that I use daily without knowing it!

Anyway, time to go, and get a cup of tea!

Sláinte!

Jay Cee Moon ©

The Emerald Isle, its music!

There we go again, my third blog on Ireland, this time music is the chosen one. If I had plenty of struggles in my last blog trying to narrow down the list of places to be mentioned, not sure how I am going to put the final full stop to this new one: its music! The fact that music is a great part of my life is definitely going to make it even harder. Over the last few days, songs, singers, and bands have been bustling in my head, although no sort of shortlist has been easily arranged. I guess I will just follow the lead of my inspiration. I must admit that it has been more difficult than I thought it would be to write this third blog: it has taken me nearly two weeks to get it ready. After reading it over and over again, it has finally met my standards.  

I moved to Ireland thinking I had a great knowledge of its music: U2, Sinéad O’Connor, Enya, The Corrs and The Cranberries. How naive was I! Do not get me wrong, they are all great musicians but at the same time just the tip of the iceberg of Irish music. Over the last nearly five years I have had the greatest pleasure of discovering a never-ending list of musicians who have been singing for me along my journey. I have also realised how important music is for the Irish people, it is part of who they are and it is now part of who I am.

Among the great bands which have been added to my playlist, I have to mention Aslan, their “This Is”, is probably one of my favourites since it has a very special meaning, never mind “Crazy World” a timeless song that resonates well these days. The Script, Hudson Taylor, Picture This, Kodaline and The Coronas, they all bring a fresh modern approach with plenty of lively songs to sing and dance along with. Hermitage Green with an acoustic folk touch, their “Quicksand” makes my feet tap but their cover version of “Dreams” gives me goose bumps all over, harmonious voices at perfection.  A more recent discovery, We Banjo 3 with what they call Celtgrass, always cheering me up as they sing “Happiness is just around the corner”, in those down moments this song works as great therapy. The Fureys, more traditional but at the same time still engaging, looking forward to seeing them live this year. “Colours” by Rory and the Island is perfect for when those gremlins of mine turn up, it helps me sing them away. I couldn’t finish this paragraph without mentioning the amazing “Hothouse Flowers” which I had the privilege to see performing not so long ago. Despite not playing my favourite song “Gypsy fair” it was an unforgettable experience. They offered the audience a trad session at the end of the concert, what a gift! Needless to say, I was dancing and singing away.

When it comes to solo singers the list is long enough too. Mundy with his “July” and cover version of “Galway girl” together with the talented Sharon Shannon. Imelda May, a bit of a rockabilly, “Inside out”, what a great song. The two Damiens: Damien Rice probably more melodramatic and Damien Dempsey, so deeply rooted to his tribe. Glen Hansard who I came across thanks to the film “Once” on one of our camping outings. Nathan Carter, brings a modern touch to Irish country music, cannot help dancing around the sitting room to his “Wagon Wheel” cover version.  Although Christy Moore is probably one of the first ones I discovered, he is simply brilliant. We saw him live recently and he is an outstanding performer, musician, and entertainer. Not sure if I can just mention one of his songs, though “Ordinary Man”, “The Voyage” and “Lisdoonvarna” are amazing … so many are good ones, but his cover version of “Beeswing” blew my mind away! I highly recommend you listen to it; you will not be disappointed that is for sure. On a very different note, Clare Sands, who I got to know thanks to my job, is well worth a listen, especially her “Awe na Mná.” And last, but not least, Emma Langford. My partner came across on the radio  her with “The Winding Way Down to Kells Bay”, no words needed.  We have been to Kells Bay, cloudy day but the song brought some brightness to the place. Emma’s music is somehow always there. We saw her in a small venue in Dublin at the end of 2019 for the first time, what a great gig, and she even dedicated us a song as requested, looking forward to seeing her again soon.

And of course, all the buskers of Grafton Street, who despite the rain, the cold and the freezing wind keep the music going on while people walk up and down the street. I have myself stopped to listen more than once, lots of talented musicians there. They somehow offer the walkers an amazing life soundtrack. Priceless to be wandering along there while the ears are presented with a haven of melodies. If you venture it to the right pubs later in the evening, you are guaranteed live music, another great source of talent. I have myself sung along to “Dirty old town”, “Molly Malone”, and “Caledonia” countless times, among many others. It was in a pub in Curragha (Co Meath) when I first heard “Grace”, probably one of the most touching romantic songs ever written.

As I am writing away, the music guru John Creedon is on the background. I could not talk about music without mentioning him. He has been there so many evenings: in summer while having dinner outside in the courtyard, in the spring while admiring the new blossoms with a cup of tea around the garden, in the autumn while working on some crafts with a candle brightening up the room, in winter while having a hot brew well wrapped on the couch and writing one of my blogs. As one of his twitter followers said recently: “Why does the music always sound better when John plays it?”.

I am aware that these few lines do not do justice to the amazing amalgam of Irish music, it is just my humble homage to the immense range of talent the emerald isle holds. I still have loads to discover. I could say my next step is going to be trad, I may need some Irish dancing lessons first though…

I was driving home the other day and was listening to one of those country music programmes, and a song caught my attention. I am going to finish this blog with its words, so as Margo sings: “you know Ireland is dear to me, and that Ireland wills always be, so deep in my heart, forever I may roam, you know Ireland’s where I call home”.

Jay Cee Moon ©