I gcuimhne Danny Sheehy

Blasket-Island

Blasket Island by Norman Ackroyd (RA)

 

IN MEMORY OF DANNY SHEEHY – DANNY AN TSÍTHIGH 

Today we lost Danny Sheehy -Danny an tSíthigh or Domhnall Mac Síthigh, poet, boat-maker, sailor, teacher,  Irish language expert, Kerryman and absolute gentleman.

Thank you for all you gave us and the love you instilled in us for our culture, land, ancestors and Irish ways.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

 

 

Lightenings      viii

The annals say: when the monks of Clonmacnoise
Were all at prayers inside the oratory
A ship appeared above them in the air.
The anchor dragged along behind so deep
It hooked itself into the altar rails
And then, as the big hull rocked to a standstill,
A crewman shinned and grappled down the rope
And struggled to release it. But in vain.
‘This man can’t bear our life here and will drown,’
The abbot said, ‘unless we help him.’ So
They did, the freed ship sailed, and the man climbed back
Out of the marvellous as he had known it.

 

by Seamus Heaney

 

POET DANNY SHEEHY DIES AFTER BOAT OVERTURNS OFF SPAIN https://www.rte.ie/news/2017/0610/881677-spain/

An tAthair Pádraig Ó Fiannachta -Oidhreacht

Tonight celebrate Culture Night and those who make it.

I was privileged to know, and have some of my work translated by, the magnificent Irish scholar, priest, poet, publisher and sage Pádraig O Fiannachta.  His cultural breath still breathes on this great land of ours and its influence gives life throughout the cultural world.

The text below is a translation from our 2006 work ‘Letting Go of That which you most Ardently Desire’ an artwork that dealt with the issue of armed struggle in Irish history and our recent decommissioning process.

An tAthair O Fiannachta passed away in July of this year into the mythical.

                                                  Ní fheicimíd a leithéid arís ann

gunbutts                                      

 

  The Grip That Binds Us

As human beings we are constantly trying to deal and come to terms with internalised trauma.  Being unable or unwilling to resolve certain issues, we cling even tighter to them and, though we yearn for peace and rest and progress, we can’t seem to let go of that which threatens to destroy us.

What is it like to walk away from conflict, to put your weapons beyond use?  To dwell upon all the years committed to the never ending cycle of fright, fight, flight.  Resentment, hatred, fury and denial all form part of the energy field that has dominated us human beings for thousands of years.
Along with the hardware, these emotions need to be deactivated if the grip that has bound us for generations to armed conflict is to be loosened finally and permanently.

Letting go is always a process of loss, a process of grieving. The dawning realisation that you cannot retake what you’ve reconciled to let go of.  And the final, slow acceptance that it is no longer of service to you anyway.
The grip that binds us is a reflective process which offers participants a chance to engage with the emotional dynamics  that underlie letting go and the emergence of something new.

© Gerard Mannix Flynn

Glas-snaidhm orainn

Bímid, mar dhaoine daonna, de shíor ar gor ar chréachtaí inmheánaithe, agus ag iarraidh bheith réidh leo. Toisc nach féidir linn, nó nach toil linn, fadhbanna áirithe a réiteach, is daingne fós ár ngreim orthu; cé go mbímid ag tnúth le síocháin, le suaimhneas agus le dul chun cinn, ní bhíonn ar ár gcumas, de réir dealraimh, scaradh leis an rud seo a bhíonn á bhagairt sinn a scrios.

Conas a mhothaíonn sé cúl a thabhairt le coimhlint, d’airm a chur ó mhaith?
Bheith ag cuimhneamh gan stad ar na blianta gan áireamh gafa ag sceon agus comhrac, tóir agus teitheamh, teitheamh agus tóir.
Tá fuath agus fíoch, fearg agus faltanas i réim i ngarraí treafa polaitíochta Éireann leis na cianta cairbreacha.

Ní hiad na hairm chogaidh amháin atá le cur ó mhaith agus le scrios ach freisin na mothúcháin úd go léir a nasc sinn, glúin ar ghlúin, le cogaíocht an ghunna – táid le scaoileadh go deo faoi dheireadh thiar thall.

Is geall le cailliúint, le caoineadh, i gcónaí rud a scaoileadh uait. Tuigeann tú de réir a chéile nach féidir leat greim a fháil go deo arís ar an rud ar ar réitigh tú scaradh leis. Glacann tú leis de réir a chéile nach aon tairbhe duit é cibé scéal é.

An glas-snaidhm a cheanglaíonn sinn, is próiséas meabhrach é a thugann caoi dóibh siúd a bhíonn páirteach ann dul i ngleic leis na fórsaí mothaithe is bonn don scaoileadh ar shiúl agus do shaolú na nua-bhreithe.

© Gerard Mannix Flynn
Aistriúcháin – Fr. Pádraig Ó Fiannachta