This week sees the launch of the ‘Teeny Weeny DAILY Practice’.  Making too many changes, each of which has the capacity to overwhelm just floors me.  So on another bright blue Dublin day, I have decided every day has to begin with a ‘Teeny Weeny’.  There will be just one thing. However small that needs to be done and I will do it first.  In the words of Brian Tracy.  I will …’eat that frog!

[quote align=”left” color=”#999999″]Take the Teeny Weeny Challenge[/quote]Feeling very chuffed. This is so do-able. This I can maintain.  This I will maintain.

Enjoy your day !

just as we all thought, eat less, eat well, move more, feel better.  Now I know as a result of my recent participation in a detox program which was assessed scientifically, there was next to no difference to my liver or kidney function.  The very use of the word Detox suggests that my body is somewhat toxic and I am not sure I like the implication of that either. The Medical Researcher’s view was making changes to one’s dietary lifestyls is all that’s needed.  Why then, is it so hard…. so very hard to remain focused and stick to a healthy eating plan and exercise routine… I’ll give it some serious thought over my next coffee, that is after my early morning (yes, that part is true) walk down Dun Laoghaire Pier. Enjoy your day!

Earlier this year shortly after my first visitor to the tiny cottage left, I took part in a Detox trial for The Consumer Show, on our national station RTE, here in Ireland.  As I don’t have a T.V., had forgotten all about it and the week of deprivation back in early February, I was taken by surprise when this week a few people mentioned seeing me on television talking about coffee. Now with more than a little trepidation as the program is to be broadcast tomorrow evening, I am wondering just how it will turn out.  How will the pre detox and post detox conversations with the Presenter Ella seem.  What about the little pieces I was asked to record each day of the detox, how will those be used and edited.  Sure, it’ll be grand as we say in Ireland.  But will it asks the little voice in my head?  My inner-most fears of being teased are fast rising to the surface.  Will I look as round as I am in real life on the telly or even more rotund? Will whatever it was that I said make sense… Yes, taking part  seemed like a good idea at the time. A bit of fun. Well, there’s no going back.  Tomorrow we’ll all see what the final tests revealed and how it went in every respect.

Seriously, the big question is, having done the detox along with others, each of us testing different types of programs, having had blood and urine tests done before and after the 7 day program, did my program and anybody elses work? Was there a significant difference, or any difference.  How did we all feel doing it and afterwards.  What impact does a mere 7 day program have on one’s life. After tomorrow’s broadcast, I’ll add to this post… for now, have a ponder on your views on Detox programs… and I’ll reflect on what I learnt

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With great pride I just watched an old video on Youtube of a Riverdance pe3rformance, of everyday people of all ages, all shapes and sizes dancing, tapping away, in the longest possible line, along the river quays in the city centre and across The Samuel Beckett Bridge in Dublin.  Even all these years on since Micheal Flately ‘burst on to the stage like a stallion’ as Rich from Donegal said at the time, I still get a shiver seeing how much pleasure almost any rendition of this dance gives me.  I love the fact wherever I am in the world, people welcome me when I say I’m from Dublin and I’m proud, very proud to be an Irish Citizen.  I love the way on St. Patrick’s Day parts of buildings are flooded with green light all over the world.  I love the way for a small country, Ireland packs a big punch. It’s not that I am denouncing my Welsh roots and my English upbringing, I am proud of these things too.  Ireland and my Irish friends and my little Irish Cottage, just a stone’s throw from the sea mean home to me.  I still love London with all my heart, it’s where it’s at for every nationality in the world and I’d  go as far as to say, it’s ‘the real capital’ of the world. London, my city which I love to visit.  But Dublin, dear old Dublin is home.  Though I love to travel and have been lucky enough to travel with my work to some amazing places; and though my sisters and their families are on opposite sides of the world and I’d love us all to be together far more, home and my family of friends keeps pulling me back. Dublin. Ireland. and though a ‘blow-in’ to some, I think I’m Irish from the outside in.  Hold on…. when’s my flight?!!!

As my first visitor arrives – from the other side of the world, I think I have a big problem.  Tiny cottage, jammed with stuff.  Excessive amounts of books piled up everywhere. Boxes still everywhere.  And just like in Harry Potter, perhaps there’s a little space under the stairs… for a bed.  Well it sounds drastic but it works.  The test of any friendship is living in close proximity with someone, it makes you appreciate the need for flexibility and how some things just don’t matter.  Kiwis make great travellers, great visitors and are so easy going.  Even coming from summer in Auckland to a freezing, seaside town in Ireland was not a bother to Maree. She even ventured out most mornings for a run down Dun Laoghaire Pier.  Now that’s impressive in my book and hope on another European trip, Dublin hit the right notes and she’ll be back.

What I quickly realised was that though my cottage is small, it’s home. After years of being unsettled, it’s where I feel at peace and where my friends feel welcome.  I may have thought nothing could compete for a place in my heart like my old house on the hill.  I was wrong. I can walk past it and smile easily  for the memories I shall always have. As for the house, just bricks and mortar. Only bricks and mortar after all.

When I heard the story of a little boy trying to talk to his mother the other day, I had to laugh at the simplicity of what he was trying to say.  Over and over again, this little boy kept saying ‘You’re not listening’, ‘You’re not listen’. Finally, in the most exasperated state, this small lad stood up and pronounced ‘But you’re not listening to me.  You’re not listening to me with your eyes’. Sometimes it all it takes is a few moments of really listening, being fully engaged to make a child feel loved ALL DAY LONG!

out of the mouths of babes…..

Listening is one of the greatest compliments we can pay to another.  Two eyes, two ears, one mouth.  That’s the proportion that helps our 1:2:1 relationships flourish……