2022 Grateful 38: Talking to the wild

Up to $15 million in rewards for information on Ireland’s infamous crime gang, the Kinahan’s. A lone gunman shoots up a subway station in Brooklyn. Possible chemical warfare in Ukraine. It’s just an average Tuesday in 2022.

BoJo was fined for breaking the law. The Little Man doing an about-turn on the EU. And Putin showing his determination to make Russia great again.
The mind boggles.
But the Republic of Ireland’s women’s soccer team drew with Sweden (#2 in the world) keeping their hopes alive of qualifying for the 2023 World Cup. Katie McCabe, the Irish Captain, is some woman, for one woman.
Growing up, McCabe played on boys’ youth teams for Kilnamanagh AFC and Crumlin United F.C.. At the age of 10, she joined her first girls’ team in Templeogue, playing for both the girls’ team and the boys’ team until she turned 13.
I’m old enough to be her mother. She’s as close to her start as I am to my end.
I thought about that for a while.
I thought about my childhood, growing up, going to school, and starting work. I thought of the various places I worked and lived. It was like scrolling through microfiche with way too many TOOs in the headlines.
Then I thought of news I got today about a friend’s health. I thought about a very disturbing dream I had last night that I really don’t want to think about in case it means what I think it means. I thought about my friend in NJ, and said a prayer of thanks that they weren’t in NY today.
I reflected on a conversation I had with a course participant about the everyone’s-a-winner culture and how damaging it is. We spoke about how reluctant people are to give feedback lest they upset the other party. We talked about the lack of socialising in work environments with so many offences waiting to be taken.
To stop myself spiralling, I dug out an old favourite by Becky Hemsley – Talking to the wild.
She sat at the back and they said she was shy,
She led from the front and they hated her pride,
They asked her advice and then questioned her guidance,
They branded her loud, then were shocked by her silence,
When she shared no ambition they said it was sad,
So she told them her dreams and they said she was mad,
They told her they’d listen, then covered their ears,
And gave her a hug while they laughed at her fears,
And she listened to all of it thinking she should,
Be the girl they told her to be best as she could,
But one day she asked what was best for herself,
Instead of trying to please everyone else,
So she walked to the forest and stood with the trees,
She heard the wind whisper and dance with the leaves,
She spoke to the willow, the elm and the pine,
And she told them what she’d been told time after time,
She told them she felt she was never enough,
She was either too little or far far too much,
Too loud or too quiet, too fierce or too weak,
Too wise or too foolish, too bold or too meek,
Then she found a small clearing surrounded by firs,
And she stopped…and she heard what the trees said to her,
And she sat there for hours not wanting to leave,
For the forest said nothing, it just let her breathe.
To all of you who simply let me breathe – I’m grateful.

One Response

Talk to me...