Lasta

My Pick of Flicks

‘The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder.’ Alfred Hitchcock

Hóra! I hope you’re keeping well, and if you’re not keeping well, that you’re keeping on.

I’m drawn to films about love and relationships for reasons beyond full explanation. In the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator or the Enneagram, I fall heavily on the feeling or heart side in both … just a wee bit of context as to why the following movies grabbed me!

Heads-up: I don’t write reviews as such; they are more like lasting impressions and they contain spoilers, which I will fore-warn you about.

The Invite

The Invite was the first film in the past year or so that led me into a mainstream cinema — twice! It’s dialogue-rich and I relished a second viewing to fill in any gaps in my attention. The vast majority of it takes place in a couple’s apartment, so I imagined that the script and character development would make up for lack of filmic excitement. Instead, Olivia Wilde’s stylish directing gave way to much visual interest; an assortment of shots from sometimes unexpected angles, ubiquitous use of mirrors and reflection, lingering moments and subtle variation in perspective. Bravo Olivia Wilde.

The screenplay, written by Cesc Gay, Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, was whip-smart and punchy. There was quite a lot of humour in it, yet it didn’t feel implanted there for deliberate laughs. The humour emerged through the characters whom we got to know effortlessly by virtue of the four actors’ adept inhabitation.

Spoiler alert! The treatment of romantic love and domestic partnership was layered and nuanced. Oftentimes in real life, there is no villain or a singular relationship-ruiner, even though we humans can be hellbent on finding one. Experience would suggest that there is such a thing as a romantic relationship running its course and transforming into a different kind of relationship.

The closing scene, for me, deemed this movie a masterpiece. There was a sense of release, tenderness, sensuality, possibility and soul in that one scene. The couple, played by Olivia Wilde and Seth Rogen, appeared more intimate once they had set one another free. Could there be a purer expression of love than that?

Stuck in Love

Stuck in Love was released in 2012 and I have seen it many times. I re-watched it this week because it had been a while, and I love it! I love it for so many reasons: it’s about writers (who get to live by the sea), it has one of my favourite Raymond Carver quotations in it, its knockout soundtrack features the inimitable ‘Between the Bars’ by Elliott Smith, and the characters are substantial people.

Greg Kinnear’s expressive face draws me right in and his character experiences love devoid of pride. Just as the Invite acknowledges that romantic love can have an expiry, Stuck in Love acknowledges that romantic love can be lost and found.

I reckon that love is simultaneously the simplest and most complicated aspect of life, especially since the word ‘love’ seems to be used evermore freely these days. I read and hear ‘sending love’ or some variant on social media between people who have never met one another, who will never meet one another and who would not carve out time for one another in their daily lives. It is sweet to be generous with oral and written expressions of ‘love’, but by being so generous with the word, is the meaning of the word itself being diluted?

I digress! In a world that can latch onto binaries, Stuck in Love has nuance, as well as emotional veracity and perfect casting. Jennifer Connolly has the ability to communicate so much with her eyes alone. I will never tire of this movie, and I will probably never not cry at this movie.

Prime

I first saw Prime in 2005 when it was released in the cinema. I left the cinema in a wave of sorrow because I was, what can only be described as, a hopeless romantic. Back then, nothing was more important to me than romantic love and yet relationships had always been inherently painful. I used to feel heavyhearted by the ending of other people’s relationships, let alone by the complexities of my own.

Spoiler alert! The characters played by Uma Thurman (Rafi) and Bryan Greenberg (David) have a beautiful union in this movie. The scene at the end that left me sorrowful when I was 25, lifted my heart at 46. They bump into one another a year post-break-up. David is standing outside a restaurant while Rafi is inside with friends. He clears the fog on the glass of the restaurant door just to look at her, smile at her. She senses him and smiles back. There is such affection, such shared understanding in their eyes. Unlike so many romantic comedies where the couple lives happily ever after, in this movie, just as in The Invite, they set one another free.

I was left sobbing by the intimate scene in which David offers to have a child with Rafi out of love for her, despite not sharing her desire to have a child. Rafi declines for his sake, showing her deep regard for his well-being. She is touched by his selflessness and tells him that’s the gift she’ll take from him. As in The Invite, the ending of this relationship is portrayed with warmth and intimacy.

Love comes in many guises, and ‘happily ever after’ really is only one of them.

Wishing you peace, and sending a smile from my neck of the woods to yours.

Films, Books, Plans

The Galway Film Fleadh is a summer highlight year on year. Even though the city is no longer on my doorstep, it’s well worth the trip. This year I went to some Irish short films and short films from Estonia as well as the Argentinian, Uruguayan feature film Nothing Between Us. Short film draws me in, just as flash fiction does. The Estonian short Stiina has stayed with me, above all others. The fragility of childhood innocence, the consolation of the imagination, the challenges of adulthood: so many big themes were encapsulated in this short film.

I read Elizabeth Gilbert’s memoir All the Way to the River in all its veraciousness about her relationship with the late Rayya Elias. Ms Gilbert details Rayya’s exuberance in life and devastating death, Elizabeth’s love addiction and codependency, and the intricacies of their full lives and feelings. A brief aside she wrote about marriage intrigued me. I’m partial to a good romcom, so I have seen this narrative play out quite often!:

Excerpt from *All the Way to the River* by Elizabeth Gilbert, published by Bloomsbury Publishing, page 93.

Plans

I love an elaborate, colour-coded plan! The aim of 98% of my numerous plans is to follow through on creative or health-related projects. I’m 46 now and the pattern is undeniable: I never stick to the plan! Impulsivity always wins out. In fact, I have to restrain myself from creating plans because the very creation of a plan gives me the hit I need. Once the plan has been created, I’m too bored to execute it.

Why is follow-through so toilsome, so taxing? In May, I went for an ADHD assessment. In the screening session prior to the full assessment, the psychologist asked me when I first suspected I had ADHD, and I answered: ‘when I first heard about ADHD.’ So, the assessment was a long time coming!

It was a comprehensive process. There were quicker options but I wanted to have full faith in the diagnosis. It’s confirmed: I have ADHD. It doesn’t define me, yet ADHD explains so much: chronic procrastination, difficulty sticking to personal plans, difficulty taking the smallest action yet being good in a crisis, impulsivity, addictive tendencies, working best under pressure, decades’ long insomnia, extreme sensitivity. I have only told four people because the pervasive feeling I’m experiencing is of what might have been … In time, I hope to appreciate its merits, too.

In case you’re curious, wine wormed its way back into my life this past month and quelle surprise: it turned into nightly drinking again (despite plans to the contrary)! As of yesterday, I’m back in the alcohol-free truck!

Wishing you peace, and sending a smile from my neck of the woods to yours.

Community

Day 32 alcohol-free

Six years ago, I moved out of the home I shared with my husband and into a house-share in a different town, followed by another house-share in another town, followed by finally securing a mortgage on my own first home. I had three house moves in two years. I have moved house 19 times in adulthood. I have never achieved that elusive ‘settled’ state.

I am coming up on four years in my own home, and it has become clear that it will not be my ‘forever home’. I cannot jump into house move number 20 (yet) for pesky grown-up reasons. Lack of belonging, and ultimately lack of community fuel a feeling of displacement. The word ‘community’ has the Latin root ‘com’ which means ‘together’ or ‘with.’ I often feel alone and apart. I have many close, longstanding friendships, which are of paramount importance to me. We share hours-long phone calls, laughter, lunches, texts and myriad memories, but none of those friends live nearby. On a day-to-day basis, I don’t feel part of something.

I have gone to great lengths to create a home, but the area in which I live has felt almost hostile, at times. Other times, I have felt invisible here. I have not waited for community to come to me. I have put the effort in and tried to create community here, but maybe my effort needs to change course.

So, I am setting a mid-year intention. I am going to make an effort to create more community.

There are two hobby groups I intend to join: zumba and photography. Procrastination be gone! The zumba class is once per week, and I will go to the first one on July 2. The camera club is on hiatus for the summer; so, I will join in September.

The community of Reframe has been like an injection of warmth in reaching 32 days alcohol-free. My heart aches for those from previous generations pre-Internet who grappled in shame and silence and whose only option was a face-to-face AA meeting. I am a ‘grey area drinker’. I have no dimmer switch: just an on and off switch. When it comes to alcohol, if contentment is ever to be achieved, or if anything is ever to be achieved, I need to keep the switch turned off!

Wishing you peace, and sending a smile from my neck of the woods to yours.

Day 24 alcohol-free

I like to count the consecutive alcohol-free days, so that when temptation comes a-knockin’, I am mildly deterred by the thoughts of going back to day 1. Yet, it’s never really a case of going backwards — all of these alcohol-free stints service the mind and body. It scares me a little that this time it’s for keeps because I have romanticised wine to such a ridiculous extent!

I’m under the weather at the moment, which is a motivator to improve my health by staying on the dry. Besides, the best thing about being alcohol-free is that coffee tastes even better than usual; who knew that could even be possible!

Wishing you peace, and sending a smile from my neck of the woods to yours.

Functioning

Sobriety

Day 20 alcohol-free. Go go go go — CRASH! Go go go go — CRASH! This has been my mode of functioning for as long as memory serves me. Almost as soon as I got home yesterday evening, crashing fatigue, body pain and an incipient migraine kicked in. This followed days of work, early mornings, work travel and little sleep. I have often felt mournful about not having children, but when the Crash hits, I wonder how I would possibly manage to work full-time and mind children.

Alcohol used to give me pseudo-energy and a feeling of singular connection with the moment. It injected me with hope and turned my thoughts from sprints into soothing, slow strolls. It also used to give me migraines!

The migraines are a handy hook on which to hang my ‘excuse’ not to drink. My reasons run deeper but a non-drinker in Ireland tends to get questioned. The migraine has been lifting and I feel overcome with gratitude, in part due to the light buzz from the painkillers! I have full hope that the migraines will stop altogether one day, but they’re unlikely to stop if I go back on the gargle. That is a motivator.

For any of us trying to quit alcohol, there need to be many motivators, I think. For some people, ‘one day at a time’ works. For some, counting days works. For some, non-alcoholic drinks help. For me, ‘one day at a time’ is of little benefit because I am so impulsive; it gives me too easy an escape route. I have promised myself that I will stay dry until the end of June, but ultimately, I’d like to be a teetotaler. The end of June is a middle ground between ‘just for today’ and ‘forever.’

Yoga, Writing, Walking

Yoga, writing and walking were on the back burner over the past few days. All-or-nothing thinking has been my default setting for most of my life. Even when the throbbing pain of the migraine began to abate this afternoon, the fatigue remained. I accepted it, albeit reluctantly, but by 19:00 this evening, I was able for a short walk. Something is better than nothing. The old me wouldn’t have considered a fifteen minute walk worth it.

I didn’t have the energy for vinyasa flow, so I lay down on the yoga mat and teased out a few supine stretches — again: something.

There has been no creative writing over the past few days, and I should probably take my own advice above, in that regard!

Wishing you peace, and sending a smile from my neck of the woods to yours.

Caring

Sobriety

Day 17 alcohol-free. The same theme unearths itself every time I quit booze: caring about myself. Sobriety demands caring quite a bit about oneself. Tomorrow night, I’ll meet a friend and fellow wine-guzzler, albeit a more moderate one, and I have romanticised the two of us bonding over wine. Yet, the capacity for connection doesn’t hinge on whether or not there is a bottle of wine on the table. Also, the morning-after-the-night-before would involve scraping myself out of bed and pushing through a day. There is a lot of talk of ‘playing the tape forward’ in sobriety circles, and that is what I am actively trying to do. I will let my friend know in advance that I will not be drinking.

Yes, I will. I will, I will, I will.

Writing

All-or-nothing thinking never helped me to create. It has taken me 46 years to figure that out, but hey, better now than never! Today, I wrote for 30 minutes. I edited one of my flash fiction pieces. I’ve written it in the first person, which makes me feel a little uncomfortable. When I feel confident enough to push these pieces toward potential publication, I will favour the remove of the third person. I recall an interview with Natalie Merchant years ago, in which she mentioned that she wrote in the first person because it was more intimate, not because the material was autobiographical. Sometimes I wonder if the reader feels more aware of the author when reading shorter fiction in the first person …

Perspective

To those of you who feel emotions intensely, I get it. I had a rough day yesterday. Today, I feel steadier and have more hope. There are some quotations I come back to again and again, and the below by Rilke is one such quotation. ‘No feeling is final’ is just about the most liberating sentiment I can imagine, yet it only lands with me when I’m emerging from the darkness. When I’m in there, nothing works except riding it out. However, during those dark hours, maybe there is some power in the background reminder that feelings change.

Flare up like a flame

and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.

Just keep going. No feeling is final.

— Rainer Maria Rilke

Wishing you peace, and sending a smile from my neck of the woods to yours.

Trying

Sobriety

Day 16 alcohol-free. Nobody said giving up the gargle is a barrel of laughs, and right now, it isn’t! So, how am I pushing through? How am I resisting the perennial quick-fixer, the high sensation-seeker? It has been over a decade of listening and re-listening to sobriety/alcohol-free podcasts, doing 30-day challenges, reading quit lit, using sobriety apps, and trying … I am bored with myself! It’s time to ride out these feelings — if only to change the narrative!

I’d like to see where an alcohol-free life could take me.

Walking

Today was officially a special day for me, and so, I took it off work. It started well with a bracing walk by the sea with my dog. As the day’s events unfolded, it spiraled into a mish-mash of intense emotions!

I stayed in this room last summer while doing a yoga course.

Wishing you peace, and sending a smile from my neck of the woods to yours.

Reset

Almost two years have passed since I have written here, but I kept the blog alive in the hope of return! There is so much occupying my life, including the illness of a close family member, but I have decided to limit this blog to certain topics. Due to concern for the privacy of others, I would rather write with honesty about certain aspects of my life than write in an oblique way about my whole life.

Writing

I have been dipping in and out of my first novel (carefully chosen words — manifestation ahoy!) and, as ever, grappling with procrastination. I have, however, written some flash fiction pieces in fast bursts; they will need to be edited. I feel most ‘myself’ when implanted in another’s perspective.

Sobriety

A loaded word. Since I was a ‘grey area drinker’, I often wonder if ‘sobriety’ is the right word. I achieved 235 days alcohol-free in 2023, and in December 2023 I decided to drink again, ‘just for Christmas’. Since then it has been a see-saw of ‘just for + occasion’ and dry stretches, but all roads lead back to nightly wine-drinking. So, I am on day 15 alcohol-free, with the help of the Reframe app.

Yoga

I haven’t been teaching yoga anymore due to the time constraints of a different day job. My own practice has peaked and troughed over the past couple of years, but it remains a mainstay in my keep-it-together-as-a-human practices.

Walking

Walks with my dog have been short of late. On those short strolls, I have the most spaciousness inside and the most appreciation of the outside.

Poco a Poco

‘Solitude is a good place to visit but a poor place to stay.’

^{Josh Billings}

I recently spent a week in Albir on the Costa Brava in Spain. I hadn’t gone on holiday in a couple of years and relished the opportunity to take off, untethered. A Spanish taxi driver assured me I had made the right choice as Albir is ‘más tranquilo‘ than neighbouring Benidorm… and tranquil, it is.

I have been dipping in and out of Spanish-learning over the past few years. The weekly classes I took this year were a great anchor, but I need regular Spanish conversation. A language exchange with a Spanish person who’d like to learn English would be just the tonic!

As Albir attracts tourists from all over Europe and beyond, English seems to be the name of the game. I attempted to use my Spanish but people generally responded in English… until I went to Pizza4U. Hurrah — the waitress responded to me in Spanish. It may seem minor but she put me at ease in feeling less conspicuous. I returned there for dinner on the next two nights – the menu didn’t hurt either! I felt more connected to the country when the waitress was willing to engage with me in the local language.

‘Poco a poco’ is what a lady at an ice-cream stall said to me when I told her that other people weren’t responding in Spanish. I’m sure she has long since forgotten the Irish lady in the floppy beige hat but this tiny connection charged me. As with most endeavours in life, we get there poco a poco.

The long daily walks from Albir to Altea and back were like a salve on a wound. Despite the temperature being in the high twenties, there was a consistent breeze. The towering palm trees, the sculptures on rocks on the promenade, the picture-perfect sea, the dogs waddling along with their human companions — one terrier in a backpack wore a matching bicycle helmet to his owner’s! It enriched and enlivened me. Yet, I remained pierced by the loneliness that has been stalking me for years.

I read that loneliness is as detrimental to heart health as smoking. I can’t ‘give up’ loneliness but I need to take evermore active steps to diminish it. It was incredible to me that I could feel lonely in a postcard.

In the normal run of things, when I get home from work every day, I have a coffee and a sweet treat, relishing in the peace and soft solitude. Pockets of solitude can be edifying; long stretches of solitude can be damaging.

I’m sure a psychologist with expertise in attachment theory would have a field day with my former husband and me. We are still deeply connected, yet not a couple. I’m not sure what we are: ‘best friends’ is likely the most accurate description. The casualty of our best friendship is that I can no longer bear the loneliness.

The trip brought into focus that I need to ‘move on’; two words which sound simpler than the actions they require. It also brought into focus that I need to retrieve the person I used to be: the host, the bringer-together-of-people, the participant in social and cultural events.

After my marriage break-up, a great deal of time was spent sourcing temporary accommodation, resulting in three house moves in the past four years. My personality shrank in this process. I would like to reclaim some of what has been lost, poco a poco.

May your day be a safe and soulful one.

Day 75 Alcohol-Free

I can think of many reasons to drink alcohol again, but I can’t think of any good reasons to drink alcohol again.

I’ve been reading Rebecca Ivory’s book of short stories, ‘Free Therapy.’ The characters in Ms. Ivory’s collection are all marked by a deep yearning; a sense of not belonging. The situations in which the characters are in are relatable to the point that her prose cuts through the barrier between the fictional realm and the reader. These characters have voice. I can only imagine what a literary gem Rebecca Ivory will reveal in the novel she is reportedly writing at the moment.

Before that, I read Lisa O’Neill’s novel, ‘Idol.’ I often wonder if I’m missing out on something vital by not ‘being on social media.’ I have, on occasion, not seen job advertisements or not learned of achievements of friends by virtue of my somewhat Luddite nature. ‘Idol’ makes a case for a more private existence! Ms. O’Neill charts a pivotal portion of a narcissistic anti-hero’s life. The book was in my hands in bed at 2am, and one of the few reasons I put the phone down. Literature provides so much more than stimulation and entertainment — it provides companionship.

It feels right to be reading again. I continue to clutch my phone as though it were some kind of anchor, when spending time alone. It embarrasses me to admit to this but I’ve been ‘using’ the phone when alone as an antidote to loneliness. I forget all about the phone when I’m in the company of others. It’s a waste of precious time and now that alcohol is gone from my life, excessive phone use is next in the firing line.

I know there are many perspectives about addiction and the concept of ‘an addictive personality’ has been widely debunked. I can attest, from a life of struggling with addictive tendencies, that I very much lean towards addiction (to anything!). For me, addiction is closely related to self-sabotage as I have never been addicted to exercise, broccoli, house-cleaning or any enriching pursuit!

‘The love of learning, the sequestered nooks;

And all the sweet serenity of books’

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow