Yesterday was the longest day of the year (in the Northern hemisphere), followed by the shortest night, and the girls and I marked the occasion by going for a walk on the beach at sunset.
(Photo of Malahide´s beach yesterday evening, with the sunlight seeping through the clouds.)
According to what I learned in school about the seasons of the year, June 21st marks the beginning of summer, but for places with Celtic tradition, like Ireland, we´re already halfway through summer, as the season started (according to their calendar) on May 1st. The story in Shakespeare´s famous play A midsummer night´s dream unfolds precisely around this date, as the title indicates.
In any case, the summer solstice is an occasion that many cultures have been celebrating for centuries. In Spain, the "christianized" version of this day (probably taken from the Celtic festival of Grianstad) is Saint John´s Eve, where fire is the protagonist, whether it´s in the form of bonfires or fireworks.
Today I had the privilege of participating in a small summer solstice celebration, with St. John´s water and sound bath included (thanks, Isabel!), and I´m thinking about preparing a micro-bonfire in a bowl tomorrow night, like in the old days... Why? Because these rituals help us to get grounded: they allow us to momentarily get away from the rush and the noise of daily life, and look inward, listen to ourselves for a little while, reflect on this first half of the year and think about our path going forward.
It´s time to feel renewed, to close some cycles and start new ones. To decide what we want to keep in our lives, what we want to attract and enhance, and what we want to stop holding on to, so that it can go away and let us move forward.
And you? What do you want to keep or attract at this moment in your life, and what do you want to free yourself from?
These days, a frequent conversation topic at home is universities and college courses, among other things, because Irene is currently doing her leaving cert, the equivalent to PAU / EVAU / selectividad in Spain (hang in there Irene, you´re almost done!)
(Photo of the library at Harvard University, where I had the fortune to go for a walk when I visited Boston a few years ago.)
Coincidentally, our friends are in Dublin this week to visit universities, and we´ve been sort of comparing education systems across several countries: Spain, Ireland, the UK, the US and even France... Needless to say, they´re vastly different from each other.
But in any case, the underpinning idea is the same, at least in theory: acquiring a good education.
A few months ago, I wrote my reflections on the topic of choosing college courses in the post titled Career paths (III), and back in the day I also wrote about lifelong learning (Time to learn) and how to make the most of what we learn (Learning, re-learning, unlearning). Today, I´d like to simply take a step back and acknowledge the value of education, whether it´s through formal training or self-directed:
The object of education is to prepare the young to educate themselves throughout their lives.
Robert M. Hutchins
Education is a progressive discovery of our own ignorance.
Will Durant
The whole purpose of education is to turn mirrors into windows.
Sydney J. Harris
Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.
William Butler Yeats
Education is a better safeguard of liberty than a standing army.
The other day, when I was having a chat about life with a friend of mine, he complained about "being back at the same spot" where he was over a year ago, just as if, instead of moving forward, he had gone round a circle just to end up in the same place. Does this ring a bell?
For, as the old saying goes, man is the only animal that trips over the same stone twice. And when we say twice, we could say three, or ten, or twenty... Sometimes there are stones we keep on tripping over for our whole lives.
But, what if we took the opportunity to learn from each of those trip-ups? What if, instead of feeling sorry for ourselves or cursing the stone, we observed what happens around us (and more importantly, inside of us) every time it reappears?
The day we get to master this skill, we will discover that, in reality the path is not a circle, but a spiral: with each lap we get to go deeper and become a little bit wiser, and even though the same old challenges will reappear once in a while, they will not be exactly the same anymore, because we will have acquired new resources and tools to tackle them differently.
(Photo of a decorative paper spiral, which looks very much like a circle when it´s folded, but once you stretch it, you can clearly see that it´s not)
Do you get the idea? I think this poem by Portia Nelson also illustrates it really well:
Autobiography in five chapters
Chapter One I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost... I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter Two I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in the same place. But, it isn't my fault. It still takes me a long time to get out.
Chapter Three I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. It's a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
Chapter Four I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
If you have ever tried to meditate, you will know that the early stages of the practice consist mostly of focusing your attention on something (for example, your breathing), inevitably getting distracted a little while later, realising you got distracted and focusing your attention once more. Again and again, as many times as necessary, in order to progressively train your mind.
To all the expert meditators among you, who have already overcome that initial phase, congratulations! That is still a pending task for me, so I´m not able to tell you firsthand what happens afterwards (and I suspect it may not even be something you can express with words). But it occurred to me that this training of the attitude that´s needed for meditation can be applied to many things in life: the ability to quietly return to the path when we notice we´ve gone astray, without judging ourselves or beating ourselves up, simply course-correcting and continuing to move forward, without getting stuck in guilt, self-justification, complaining, or victimism..
This is the thought that crossed my mind this evening, when I finally spent some time doing yoga after a very long streak of "not having time". Instead of going on about not having been practising (which, I confess, I tend to do quite a lot lately), this time I got myself out of that spiral, took out my mat and just started, without overthinking it. And it felt great.
(This photo is from the notes I got at one of the training courses I did with my first yoga teacher, back in the 1990´s. Thanks, Carsun!)
I once heard or read somewhere a phrase that said something like practicing yoga is the same as not practicing it, and I remember feeling quite confused by this idea at the time. How could they be the same? It didn´t make sense.
Then, as time went by, I found some meaning in it; I don´t know if this is what the author intended to say, but it did help me back then, and it still does. We know objectively that yoga has many benefits; some of them are more visible and immediate, like the flexibility and physical fitness it helps us to achieve, and others are deeper and more subtle, only appearing with continuous practice. Well, it turns out that, at least in my experience, the moment you become most aware of all those benefits is precisely the moment when you lose them, after having given up the practice. So, from that point of view, regardless of whether you practice yoga or not, you get to learn; you learn that keeping up the practice (or resuming it) is the best thing you can do.
I´d like to take this opportunity to thank all the yoga teachers I´ve had the pleasure to learn from over the years, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU (and apologies if I´m forgetting someone):
To Carsun, for teaching me the basics of hatha yoga, pranayama, and so many other things, and above all, for awakening my curiosity about the world of yoga and the path to get to know myself better.
To Mary, for those lunchtime classes at the Xilinx gym, I really enjoyed learning to flow with vinyasa.
To Lisa and all her team at The Elbowroom, for taking such good care of us during pregnancy yoga, mum & baby yoga and yoga for families, and for giving us the tools to take a more natural approach to labour.
To Martina and Stuart in their beautiful Carlinford studio, a retreat I would love to return to someday.
To Karen and her classes in Adamstown, an oasis from day-to-day hassle until the pandemic shocked us all.
And, in virtual mode for the last five years, to Adriene, my partner during countless home yoga sessions, whom I very highly recommend (her videos are in English).
I´m delighted to have returned to my yoga practice again. As Adriene herself often says, the hardest part is to take out your mat every day and show up, and today at least, I´ve achieved that... So what if I get distracted in a few days and it gets parked again? It´s OK, I now know that I can come back. And I will come back, again and again, as many times as needed, because it´s important to me, because it´s worth it.
What about you? What´s that thing you want to start practising again? And what are you waiting for?
A couple of weeks ago, our beloved C4 Picasso decided it was finally time to retire. Eva and I were in Galway with some friends, leaving the city centre towards the Dublin road, when the car kindly let us know (in its particular way, by beeping and flashing lights) that it had no intention of making the way back on its own wheels. So we had to switch to plan B and find an alternative way to get home (which by the way was a success, thanks to the tow truck operator arriving quite quickly, the train station being only a 15-minute walk away, Irish Rail´s regular Galway-Heuston service, and Fredi and Muriel, who came to pick us up in their two cars).
Here´s a picture of our Picasso on the street where we had to pull over and call a tow truck. I got this weird feeling that the car was saying goodbye to me...
A long time ago, I heard or read somewhere that, symbolically, a car represents our own life and the path that we choose to walk along. It is true that, in the last year or so, there have been many changes in my life, and all this time I´ve been thinking about maybe changing to a newer car, but I never taking the step.
Now, finally, the moment has come:
Let me introduce you to our newest acquisition: another Citroën, this time a C5 Aircross. I´ve been driving it for three days, and I love it! I´m getting used to it very quickly, it´s such a smooth drive.
As they said in that old song, to everything there is a season (by the way, I just found out that the lyrics come from a Bible passage, the beginning of the book of Ecclesiastes). Sometimes, we´re so embedded in our habits and routines that we find it hard to acknowledge something has already ran its course, and it´s time to let it go, so that you can continue to make progress.
Thanks a million, dear Picasso, for the 12+ years we spent together. The memories (and a handful of photos) will stay with us.
P.S.- If you´re also going through a transition phase, and could do with a few words of encouragement or a reminder of what´s important, I invite you to have a look at the very first post on this blog, which by the way was written exactly four years ago: This is your life.
This last week just flew by, I can´t believe it´s already Sunday! And by the time you all get to read this, it will probably be Monday.
(Photo of a super cool clock located at the front of a pub at Dublin airport)
As usual, I´m quite busy these days, and I don't have the time to sit down and write a long article. But I do have time to share with you a quote precisely on this topic (in Spanish, it doesn´t sound as good as in English, but you get the idea, hopefully):
All we get is time and choices. Be wise with both.
Carson Anekeya
It makes you think, right? I would perhaps change it to "resources and choices", for at the end of the day, time is a resource, as they are for example our skills, our physical and mental capacity, our health and energy levels, and of course, other material and financial resources.
And the decisions we are constantly making, consciously or unconsciously, are related with the way in with we use those resources to satisfy our needs and wants. And that´s where two other keywords come into play, in my opinion: priorities and values.
Because, in reality, that lack of time we often complain about is nothing but a symptom. Our "time management" problems are, deep down, priority management problems, as very often our priorities are not clear, and we get carried away, struggling to comply with everything life puts in front of us, and getting exhausted along the way.
That´s why it´s so beneficial to carve out some of our precious time to sit down and reflect on our values, which are the real drivers behind our priorities. What do you consider most important in life?
Next week, I can explain a simple exercise to clarify values. Until then, if you´d like, I propose you take some time during the week to think about all the resources you have available to you (there is no better occasion to be thankful for them!) and observe the decisions you make in your day-to-day activities, digging a little bit deeper to discover the need or want hiding underneath them. Who knows, perhaps you will discover something surprising about yourself...
Are you currently enrolled in any interesting training courses?
I´m about to finish the first of three modules in a training path I´m absolutely loving (I´ll get into the details in a future article), and in May, I´ll resume another course I had to leave unfinished last year. Interestingly, my youngest daughter, who´s now ten years old, is very surprised at my willingness to keep taking course after course, and she asks me when I'm planning to stop...
I guess she finds it strange that someone would voluntarily decide to "keep going to school" when they could be doing something else. And now that I think of it, when I was her age, I was convinced that adults were really lucky because they didn´t have to do any homework! (Of course, I didn´t realize all the other implications of being an adult; I only saw that they had much more freedom to do "whatever they wanted").
(Photo of a mug I saw at our school, I found it very funny: "Keep calm and pretend it´s on the lesson plan").
To be fair, nowadays it´s a lot more common for us to continue our training in adulthood, both for personal and professional reasons. It´s what we call lifelong learning (translated into Spanish as "educación permanente"), and it´s tremendously helpful for a variety of things, some more obvious than others:
Expand our knowledge, acquire new skills, adapt to an ever-changing work environment.
Broaden our perspective, grow as professionals, and more importantly, evolve in our personal lives.
As if all that was not enough, lifelong learning has another huge benefit: learning new and interesting things gives us renewed curiosity; it helps us to stay motivated and active while exercising our minds, which in turn will help us to maintain good health and quality of life as we age.
Here are a couple of quotes to reflect on this topic, both from the same author: a self-taught thinker and philosopher who, despite never having attended college, went on to achieve a Nobel prize in literature.
In times of change, learners inherit the earth, while the learned find themselves beautifully equipped to deal with a world that no longer exists.
Eric Hoffer
The truly human society is a learning society, where grandparents, parents, and children are students together.
This weekend, all over the world, the Muslim community has celebrated the feast of Eid al-Fitr: the end of the month of Ramadan and its corresponding fasting practice. To all of you celebrating, عيد مبارك (I hope Google Translate got it right; it should say Eid Mubarak, which is the customary greeting for this occasion).
Also, in Ireland, today was Mother´s Day (the fourth Sunday in Lent), so here at home we´ve had our own little celebration: homemade crepes for breakfast, a game of Catan and homemade pizza for dinner. (Thanks a million, girls! My best present ever is spending time with you three.)
(Homemade heart-shaped pizza made by my daughter Eva. Amazing, right? She´s brilliant at this.)
What would life be without celebrations? Each nation, culture, religion, and even each family has its own celebrations, and even if they look different from the outside, below the surface it´s the same idea: as human beings, every now and then we need to take a break, get together with our loved ones and enjoy and be merry, often as a reward after challenging or difficult times.
So, similarly to how the feast of Eid takes place at the end of Ramadan, the Christian Easter takes place at the end of Lent, and is in turn a celebration of spring and the blossoming of new life after the winter, same as the Hindu festival of Holi, which took place a couple of weeks ago... And so it goes, on and on.
Each celebration brings its own traditions, which connect us more deeply to our history and our people. Having said that, let´s keep in mind that times change: life evolves, and we evolve with it. That´s why I believe we should feel at liberty to choose, adapt and create traditions and celebrations according to our circumstances and values. Allow ourselves to honour our roots and at the same time extend our wings.
What are you looking forward to celebrating? And how are you planning to do it?
This year I'm wishing you a happy St. Patrick's day from the boarding gate of a random airport, while travelling for work.
It's been a bit of a weird week, and the idea from the title keeps going around in my head since Friday. I know this doesn't sound like much of a celebration, but in a certain way it is, a celebration of life... It all depends, as usual, on perspective.
(This is one of the famous Celtic high crosses at Clonmacnoise monastic site, in county Offaly, Ireland).
The first half of the quote is the most widely known: memento mori, "remember you will die". At first sight, the idea may seem a bit depressing (it reminds me of "dust you are, and to dust you shall return", which is typically said on Ash Wednesday as part of the Christian tradition). But for the ancient Greeks, its meaning referred to living life while we still have it (as in the famous quote carpe diem, "seize the day").
This thought that everything can come to an end any day (or rather, that we ourselves can come to an end) gives us perspective; it encourages us to appreciate the life we have and live it more intentionally, with more intensity. And not only in the sense of enjoying the present, as per the Epicurean teachings (although that's part of it too), but also in the sense of "living a good life" according to the Stoic philosophy, that is, doing something worthy with your life.
And that's where the second half of the quote comes into play: memento vivere, "remember to live". Because the reality is that we have no Idea when life is going to be over for us; we may die tomorrow, but we may not, and if so, we have a whole life ahead of us to do wonderful things and leave our legacy in this world.
The key here, at least in my view, is finding a way to be able to enjoy the present moment while at the same time keeping good habits that will allow us to live many years with a good quality of life, so that we continue to have energy to do the things that make us feel fulfilled: hobbies, projects, time with our loved ones...
What about you? Which side do you remember mote often, the fact that you're going to die, or the fact that you can, and should, live? In what specific ways can you make the most of this opportunity that life is giving you today?
March 10th 2025, and it´s my turn to blow 47 candles.
In previous years, I´ve made it all a bit more mysterious, writing my age in binary code (101111), hexadecimal (0x2F) or even Roman numerals (XLVII).
Anything in order not to say it too directly, but not because I particularly care about my age, that doesn´t bother me (or at least, that´s what I´m saying now; we´ll see when I get to 50...)
In reality, what happens is that I have mixed feelings regarding my birthday. On the one hand, there's my aversion to being the centre of attention, which prevents me from reminding anyone about my birthday as it´s coming up; then, on the other hand, there´s always this hope that people will remember to say happy birthday to me, and probably, deep down, the conviction that "they should remember". For those with Enneagram knowledge, any similarities with a preserving type 1 are pure coincidence 😉
Anyway, there´s no way I can escape this year; pretty much everyone knows already. So, from the bottom of my heart, thanks a million for your birthday wishes, bring on another year. Big hug.
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