This Healthy Homegirl

It is the penultimate month, the eleventh hour, of 2019 but also 2010 and all the months in between. The fire has roared, it has raged and now it is subsiding. We are now in the dying embers of the decade. What were you doing ten years ago? How has your life changed? As the ashes set on December 31st, how will you rise again? Like Joaquin Phoenix? Or the proverbial bird of rebirth that bears the same name? (Whichever simile you choose, I hope your performance is Oscar worthy). The year was 2010, I was completing my final year of an English and Geography degree in NUIG. When I think back on that time there was so much uncertainty. We were in the aftermath of a recession and it was going to take serious creativity to manifest a job with a basic Arts degree. So I left behind gregarious Galway and its charming, characterful cobbled streets. I headed east to Dublin to see if I could master Journalism. It had always been my dream to report on sport and so I began this journey in DIT....

I was perusing though an old journal which I started two years ago, almost to the present day. I had just turned 29 and I was trying my hand at journalling. I wrote about my story so far: health, education, career, core values, future pacing, sentence stemming (I would be happier/healthier if..) letting go of debilitating beliefs and identity. What really struck me were the goals I had then are very similar to the ones I have now. This befuddled me. Why are my goals from 2017 still featuring in my 2019 plan? Like the wily wolf who cross dressed in sheep’s clothing, my cursive swirls were merely wishes under the guise of goals. 𝕀𝕥’𝕤 𝔾𝕆𝕒𝕝 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖! I had let the ink seep deep into the page and watched my future endeavors becoming embedded. Like the groove in Homer Simpson’s settee, there they remained. No plan, no deadline, lots of heart but lacking in smarts. The latter being the biggest barrier. It’s all about being SMART,  I rewrote my goals and used this templa...

It has been seven years since I last consumed a morsel of meat. That was March, 2013 and I was in college, working part time in a deli. This involved making breakfast rolls, foraging through the fish counter and scraping lamp chops. I often joke that it was my butcher past that tipped me over the edge. I think it was the chicken fillets with a return address in Thailand that vacuum packed and sealed the deal though. I had pondered the prospect of a plant based diet for a while but there was one thing that had really been holding me back: bacon. I am ashamed to say, the sight of a salty, sizzling sliver had previously  ham pered my efforts to pursue this lifestyle. That was until I finally convinced myself that this was neither good for my cholesterol or my conscience. Now the smell repels me,  it’s funny how things have a way of trotting full circle. To add to this, the fact that pigs are like pink dogs in my eyes squealed the deal for me. I could never contemplate con...

When visualization becomes realization: give it a post of its own. At 12.55 on Friday the 26th of July, 2019, the church bells chimed just beyond the back garden of my home. I had envisioned this moment for so many years, it was hard to believe it was finally here. Before I describe this most important time and the walk that ensued, I want to pause, take a few steps back and look in my rear-view. In order to boost gratitude before you go to sleep, you can reflect on the details that added a little yay! to your day. On the contrary, I have always visualized one moment that set off sparks in my soul. I had pictured this point in time on numerous nights, when I switched off my electric blanket and turned off the light. The image of myself and my Dad strolling side by side, nestled snugly together, our arms intertwined. It always allowed me to go gentle into that good night, succumb to slumber and settle my mind. Now, as the hand of the clock climbed towards one, I turned my face...

On August 7th, as our plane ascended towards high altitude leaving the Miami skyline in our midst, we began our 45 minute transfer to Havana. As the cloud cover ceased and we made our way towards Cuba’s capital, the absence of any imposing buildings was to be expected. The airport was also equally unassuming. I landed in the country with limited knowledge of it’s workings or ways; I was never much of a history buff, nor did politics really rouse me. Ignorance could be a more apt adjective to describe this, that or I just really, really love a good surprise. I definitely got that and it was as pleasant as it was humbling. This is no ordinary place. If Marty McFly had been our designated chauffeur, nothing would have been amiss. His DeLoreon car would have slotted in just lovely amidst the myriad of vintage and medieval motors that adorn the rugged roads. I say medieval, I’m talking real, living, breathing, neighing, trotting, cantering, galloping horse power. They’re also very...

   Ⓛⓔⓣ’ⓢ ⓣⓐⓛⓚ ⓐⓑⓞⓤⓣ ⓢⓘⓧ It is hard to believe it has been six months since the clock tolled 12.01 a.m on January 1st, 2019.  26 weeks, 182 days, 4380 hours. If we are lucky, this and many more minutes are ahead of us. In most sporting events, half-time is a moment for reflection and projection. Not everyone is fortunate enough to get the chance to pursue their goals every day. I think July is the perfect month to consult your gameplan and evaluate whether it has been effective thus far. It is also the ideal time to visualise where you see yourself at the end of this year and how you are going to get there.  ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀsᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʙʟɪɴᴅ ɪs ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ sɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ᴠɪsɪᴏɴ - ʜᴇʟᴇɴ ᴋᴇʟʟᴇʀ We think that we only see with our glorious globular organs of sight 👁👁 but it is also important to tap into the mind’s eye🧠👁.  The moment the light hits the retina the process of sight begins, however, when you allow the musings of your mind to materialize,...

As I write this, I am currently 410 nautical miles off the Irish coast flaked across four seats on an Emirates plane. I am a little sleepy after a fab wedding, you could say my head is in the clouds 😅. (I promise that’s the worst pun in this post.) As I have passed through a few time zones en route to our idyllic Isle, it has set me thinking. Mainly about the importance of the seconds that tick by at a similar rate to our breathing or even our beating hearts. Motion that happens without a thought and I feel like I have a new found appreciation for time at home since I moved abroad. Particularly the hours I miss with all my faves. As difficult as this is, it also builds an unrivaled appreciation when you do get to spend quality time together.  I have been living in Abu Dhabi for nine months now and I am quite partial to it. That’s not to say I don’t miss anything or even many things about home. I feel adequate time has passed (it’s substantial enough to hone a h...