Dublin Journey Day 6

Today was the day. The purpose of my trip was upon me. It was time to speak at the International Dublin Writers' Festival

I was ready. I’d written and edited my speech and practiced it—- almost enough.

I’d have to pay attention to my notes, which is not my favorite way to speak, but I knew the message by heart. I just needed to trust my heart and all would be well.

I was the first speaker of the day-long lineup. While it was an honor to open the festival, this was definitely not a group of early risers! None the less, the room was reasonably well filled and those in attendance were attentive and respectful.

The topic of my talk was one I thought would be meaningful at a writer’s festival, It was also one I could speak to based on my own writing experiences—-“Among a world of million-plus writers, how do you stand out as “one-in -a-million?”

I was given 15 minutes. I took 30. I spoke of personal writing experiences, lessons I’d learned from others—- including best-selling author, Anne Lamott—-and added in writing and publishing information that I have acquired the hard way, and am happy to share,

A few times I went off script which helped me to be more relaxed and personable. That resulted in the audience more fully reacting and engaging with me. By the time I came to the last page of my notes, we had formed a connection that earned me a wonderful round of applause and compliments on all that I had shared.

Returning to my seat in the back of the conference room, a voice inside my soul shouted out, “I did it!” I’d come all the way to Ireland, on my own and successfully spoken to an international audience of writers and publishing executives.

It was one of those surreal moments when you want to turn to someone you know and do the happy dance together. Instead I conducted myself like a professional and interacted with writers who wanted to discuss their writing projects, and ask me a variety of questions.

When the lunch break came, I decided to head out into the unusually sunny Dublin day and look for a pub with music, to celebrate my success. My choice was made easy as I could hear music from Oliver St.John Gogarty’s Temple Bar playing half a block away.

A duo was performing as I walked in the door, and they ended their song just as I found found a table.

I ordered a glass of wine and a bowl of soup and when the waitress set the wine before me, I again felt that longing to celebrate my success with someone who would care.

It was at that moment the musicians began playing a song that my mother loved, “The Fields of Athenry.”

If you’re not familiar with the ballad, it’s set during the Irish potato famine of the 1840s. The lyrics tell the story of an Irishman from Athenry, Co. Galway, who stole food for his starving family and then was sentenced to a life in the Austrailian penal colony at Botany Bay. Yeah….it’s a killer.

As soon as I heard the opening verse, tears started welling in my eyes. I wasn’t sure if they were about being alone at this seminal life moment, or missing my mom. Either way, I was getting ready to ugly cry right in the middle of the pub.

Then the strangest thing happened. The musicians changed the tempo of the song and turned it into an upbeat rendition—-one that stopped my tears in their tracks. And I was not alone in my joy. All around me people were clapping and stomping as they sang along with what is traditionally a dirge.

As the song played out, I turned on my phone to try and capture the moment in a video, which I did---sort of.

Then I set my phone aside, raised my glass of wine and toasted my mom. I thanked her for sending her favorite song in such a joyful form—- and for assuring me that I was not celebrating this special life moment alone.

Enjoy my unprofessional video clip of “The Fields of Athenry” below!