Sometimes
we simply cannot go through the day with a smile and skip in our step. Some
days sorrow and confusion can threaten to overwhelm us. I am having one of
those days - or more accurately one of those weeks.
The
Cluatha Vaults played a large part in my development as an artist and thinker.
It was there I stood up on many a night to perform in front of an audience,
along with other poets, singers, musicians, ranters and what not. One of those
poets died eight years ago and the wound has not yet healed. Over the weekend news
came that another was sitting in the bar on friday when the helicopter fell
through the roof of the bar. Old griefs were awoken by new fears.
I’ve
been distracted since Friday night. Saturday passed in a strange surreal way.
It was my son’s sixth birthday. Lots of children, lots of laughter, noise and
occasional tantrums from over excited weans. In the evening I checked in with
friends on facebook, shared thoughts and fears. I watched the movie Rushmore;
and managed to wind down.
Sunday,
I made the point of not watching or reading the news. I hung out with the
family tried to have fun and relax, but suddenly I would find myself
distracted. I would feel an awful sense of angry dislocation. Or else memories
would burst into my head, images and sights and sounds of lang gane events and
peoples
When
I was in my late teens and early twenties I was determined to be a poet – well
being the man I was (and am) I should say that I was determined to be the
greatest poet. One of the most important things in my development as a writer was
joining the Castlemilk Writers Workshop. Among those who welcomed me and helped
me take the first steps towards being the writer I am now was the poet John
McGarrigle. Tuesday morning the news confirmed what we had all dreaded. John was named as one of those who died in the Clutha.
I’m
lucky that I’m based on the campus of NUI Galway. The place is filled with
support services, if needed, not least Health Promotion office but also
the Chaplains and Counsellors But for the moment I’m doing fine by myself. I’ve
lightened my workload and allowed myself space to think or not think; I chat
with friends or not, depending on how the mood takes me.
I make occasional
phone calls or internet chats back home and hear the same thing from friends
and family; Glasgow
I keep
my journal close at hand; jotting down passing
thoughts helps keep me grounded. I choose to lose myself in fun stuff; playing
with my children, listening to music. I don’t brood or pick at the events of
the last week, but neither do I block it out. I just let it settle in its own
way and remind myself that some days its okay not to be okay.
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