Peace in a Pod

I know I said from the outset with this blog that I never intend to present myself as an all-knowing, all-seeing, omnipotent being who has all the answers to life’s problems (disclaimer: no such person exists). But this is really and truly the first piece I have written where I am acknowledging from the get-go that I grapple hugely with the issue I’m about to discuss, and I don't just mean a 'general' struggle - I'm talking about the actual present. Today’s topic is: having awkward conversations. The minute you read that, I guarantee a chill went down your spine. And why wouldn’t it? Humans HATE having awkward discussions. Our palms go sweaty at the mere thought of it. Our hearts race, our mouths go dry, our breathing becomes shallow. Some of us (ahem, me) are almost on the verge of tears before we’ve even begun. Why is this? I am currently reading ‘Daring Greatly’ by Brené Brown, gifted to me at Christmas by a good friend. Brown is a shame- and vulnerability-researche...

One of my New Year's Resolutions this year was to complete the Duolingo French course (I’m anything if not ambitious, clearly). It was while I was sitting on the couch a few days ago testing myself on my reflexive verbs, the weak Spring sunshine gleaming through the window, that I was suddenly filled with this feeling of just pure exoticism? (Read again, that’s EXOTICISM, not EROTICISM. I know French is a sexy language, but please, take your tête out of the gutter.) It felt like I was in holiday mode, basking in the sun (albeit indoors) and uttering phrases in smooth-sounding French. And of course, me being me, it made me think about additional-language-learning and how it impacts on us emotionally and psychologically. I have always loved languages and, in my time as as a psychology student, the field of psycholinguistics, which is the science of language acquisition. I was raised more or less bilingually, English being my native tongue followed closely by Irish, passed down to m...