Keeping It Correct

keeping it correct

So, I fold my t-shirts and underwear in a very particular way, every week. They all get folded in the same manner each time there’s a clean load ready to be put away. And once folded they go into their particular drawer, placed in nice, tidy clean rows, the underwear rotated so the oldest unworn pair is at the top and the just-washed pairs at down the bottom. My t-shirts are folded down to the size and dimensions of an A4 business envelope and placed on top of one-of-three stacks in the drawer second form the top.


This is order.

This is method.

This is containment.


What am I containing?

My inner turmoil.

The sense that shit might get of control.

Only by consistently following this practice of how my socks, boxers, t-shirts, shorts, business shirts, trousers and shoes are all stored away, keeps me on the right side of sane. Otherwise, it’s all just fucking meaningless, random chaos, right?

This seemingly benign system is in fact a complete infrastructure designed to protect me, giving me the feeling that control something I wield.

Within the system, everything is kept together. Repetition. Expectancy. Certainty.

Leaving as little to chance as I can in areas within my circle of control.

I’m buffering my choices, safe-guarding against decision fatigue.

What’s wrong with a little mindless autopilot?

It’s so taxing to be present all the time. Presence is a gift and therefore it’s also a weight and weights can only be carried for too long before they begin to grind and crush.

So, tread lightly and find respite when and where you can.

Order, sanity, control, they are held close, but loosely in the little rituals and habits I have formed. Limit the unexpected when I can. Reduce the uncertainty. Reinforce that there are things I can know and I know them because I created the conditions for knowing, and if I created any conditions that exist beyond the moment they were created, then I am, in fact a god, because to be a god is to be a creator.

And if I am a god, well then, I have sway and power in my realm. It’s like the reveal of a magic trick each time I avail of the system. At the opening of each drawer you can almost hear the low whisper of the Universe saying, hocus pocus, and when I pull out the drawer, Ta-da!

The mysteries of the universe revealed.

No slippages. No breaks. No nasty little surprises.

Just order and everything in the place it is meant to be.

The system delivers. The system protects. The system contains.

So, I continue to fold and put away my clothes in this way, all the time, no matter how tired I’m feeling or how many other things I think I need to do. Nothing gets put away until it’s been folded just right. That way, there’s always some corner of the world that is in obeyance with the universal laws that emanate from me. These drawers and hanging system are an external manifestation of the order and containment I seek in my life and the world around me as I pass through it.

At times I feel blind – emotionally, scared by the unknown, unwritten future. What else are these safety rails for, if not to help guide me through dark episodes?

In the places I am still unformed and as I moved through spaces that are undefined to me any familiarity, any indicator of certainty is a most welcome respite. Each instance, a little flare of light, popping and exploding in a bright burst of light around me, showing me I am not in fact blind, but that the world around me is dark and there are things I can do to help light the way.

Containment, order, habit are just some of the ways I do this.

My underwear. My socks. My t-shirts. My shoes. My shorts. My business shirts and trousers.

May they continue to be beacons in the night, their very presence an unspoken nod and wink to all the work it takes to create light, to extend a guiding hand when all around seems to be swirling into madness and deformity.

Keeping it tight. Keeping it together.

Keeping it very together.

Keeping it within.

Keeping it locked down.


David Ryan – Documentary Phtographer

david #2

David Ryan is a storyteller. He tells other people’s stories with his camera.
As a documentary wedding photographer he’s a particular man who share’s other’s special moments in a very particular and unique way. Only David can tell a story through pictures the way he does. His is a special and distinctive talent.
David has a special place in my heart along this journey that’s led me to starting a podcast. A couple of years ago I was attending a good friend’s wedding in Ballina, Co. Mayo. David was their wedding photographer. Now, at this wedding I knew my wife and the bride and groom, and really, no-one else.
Following a beautiful ceremony at the Ice House Hotel I was wandering along the banks for the River Moy while family & friends took pictures of the bridal party. The one person who didn’t seemed to be in this melee was the wedding photographer. He was skirting around the edges, sometimes taking a picture of what was going on with the bride and groom, other times taking pictures of the young children as they played games of chasing while trying not to drop their ice-creams. David wasn’t doing the thing I’d come to know wedding photographers to do – controlling and directing the action. He was behaving like the proverbial fly on the wall.
I was fascinated.
So after while, having watched his modus operandi, I worked up the nerve to approach him and ask a question. Now, as you’ll hear David talk about in our conversation, the questions he gets asked as a photographer can, for him, seem quite trivial and superficial. And David hates the superficial.
Not knowing this, I went up to David and asked my question.
“What are you looking to capture?”
David’s reaction startled me, as I later learned the question startled him.
He turned to face me, took a step back and said, “Wow, what a great question.”
The rest, as they say, is history.
Having the courage to ask someone a question that was really burning a hole in my brain, from a place of genuine curiousity, and the amazing conversations David and I had throughout the rest of the day, awoke something within me that I’d long ignored.
That I wanted to spend more time with creative people learning about what makes them tick.
And most importantly, that it is OKAY to feel like this. So if I were to act from this place the results would more than not be really enjoyable.
And year and a half later, I finally worked up the nerve to start this podcast, which had some of its origins in that moment, outside a hotel along side a river on a gloriously sunny Saturday on the west-coast of Ireland.
So returning home to Ireland for a holiday in April, it was important for me to bring this full circle by sitting down to catch up with David.
I hope you enjoy – it’s a deep conversation and at one point we get much heavier than I ever expected. Thank you to David for his honesty, his openness and for not being afraid to let who he really his show through.
You can see more of David’s work here:
Thanks to:
Podcast homepage –

Dr Enda Murray – Festival Director

Dr Enda Murray is the Festival Director of the Irish Film Festival which is currently on in Sydney until Sunday, 5-May before moving to Melbourne from 9-12 May.

He has a penchant for seeking out and bringing to the screen stories from marginalised communities, not just in Australia, but all over the world.

In today’s conversation we discuss the through line from being one of fourteen children to Enda’s passion for storytelling as a way of drawing attention to really important issues.

You can learn more about what’s going on at the Irish Film Festival and get your tickets here:
This year’s program celebrates the diversity of Irish life in the 21st century with 10 feature films and a selection of short film and an LGBTQI series. Enda is premiering his own film, “A Lifetime of Stories”, the amazing lives of Sydney’s Irish seniors told in their own words.


I’m honoured to bring this conversation to you.
Enjoy 🙂
Thanks to:
Podcast homepage –