Michael Harding: As I left the graveyard, I reflected on what November does to the soul
I was thinking of a forgotten soldier who fought in the first World War recently as I walked around the place where my own family members are buried
Michael Harding
Michael Harding columns
‘She has no one to mind only herself’: The husband tossed a phrase in the air as lethal as a missile
Words can wound, like the father who says he’s disappointed with the child
I see my old friend on Facebook. I stare at his page but I don’t say hello
Monk from Tibet planted yew tree in garden, which has been more effective means of staying in touch
An ode to the country tradesmen, never as ruthless as solicitors or doctors about payment
Michael Harding: That may sound sentimental but I have lived my life in rural Ireland and never known it to be otherwise
I had picked the only week this year when Ireland was enjoying good sunshine to take a package holiday
I sulked on my balcony, thinking of all the surfers that might be clogging the beaches of Donegal
Michael Harding: ‘Solitude sounds beautiful, but what you get is isolation’
The Irish Times columnist on ageing, the double-edged nature of solitude, and his new memoir’s focus on his distant relationship with his father
I always liked Enniskillen. It was the same as Cavan only different in an Alice in Wonderland kind of way
My mother once told me women marching in white were Orangewomen, making me fear there was something deeper I could not see
I was wary of the Kneecap film, but the tiocfaidh-ár-lá sex scene clinched it for me
From the chaos of the Troubles, the movie constructs a story of hope and tenderness, proving there’s more to life than land
My school president believed the first stirrings of the Troubles were a communist plot
He was a saintly man of enormous integrity, but he was also our religion teacher, which made him a target of much ridicule
As a Buddhist, I was philosophically opposed to killing the wasp in my house. But we all have our limits
Eventually, I dashed around the room with The Irish Times rolled up into a weapon of death
Not even pets are safe from Andrew Tate and Tommy Robinson: ‘It’s the tone of their voices’
The General asks me: ‘Have you any idea how exhausting it is listening to them ranting about how Marxists are destroying western civilisation?’
I remember the first time I saw adults cry and behave like vulnerable and fragile children
Michael Harding: I swallowed the beauty of the moment and cherished it for years. And for a few years afterwards I found a kind of peace by just recalling the incident
There’s a room where I find refuge from the demons afflicting me
Religion can be extremely divisive, yet prayer is the one key that opens the door of the heart in every religious tradition
The General and I used to go boating. Now we sit on the patio like characters in a Beckett play
We talk about what we have done in the past rather than what we are going to do in the future
The moment I assemble the flute, the cats dive off the sofa and claw the back door, screaming to be let out
‘Would you not get yourself a concertina?’ he asked. Why? ‘It would be quieter’
Michael Harding: We had just finished the salmon when the row broke out. All had gone well until then
‘It’s not that we were taking different sides in an argument. We had become the argument.’
I decided to risk a petrol station breakfast on the way home from Cork. It was a bad move
I am forced to stop at a lay-by near Athlone, where I spend 10 minutes bent over the bonnet of my Toyota
My worries and anxieties dissolve when I hear the notes rise from a flute or a fiddle
‘All my life I have relied on music as a remedy for depression. It lifts up my soul’
An Irish man told stunned Ukrainian refugees: ‘We had wars here but we didn’t leave our country’
It was a social event for Ukrainians in the local library of a rural town, but he wasn’t there for the tea or biscuits
I tried giving up my phone. It was a disaster
I left the phone on the bedside locker – but struggled to get through breakfast in the silence
‘I’d hate to be seen searching for a grave in case people might think I wasn’t a regular visitor’
I found three little porcelain angels at my parents’ plot, none of which I had seen before
I felt Travellers were strange and different until I befriended them. Then their similarity astonished me
Their unrestrained exuberance for storytelling showed me how bearing witness to one’s own life is the core of a writers’ destiny
A teacher in school convinced me I was a useless lump of dung
His voice always made me shiver, but he also contributed greatly – albeit inadvertently – to my moral development
Michael Harding: At one time, having a pair of binoculars on the back seat of your car in Fermanagh was unwise
Maybe I am naive but for me binoculars were a beautiful remnant of Victorian tranquillity. I’ve never thought of them as an aid for killing
Michael Harding: I stroll around car boot sales admiring the people making up a new kind of Ireland
‘One thing for certain is that young people will always fly from war on whatever life raft they can find’
Michael Harding: The Camino only makes sense when it’s over
The weather resembled Leitrim in January. I wondered how I could have been so foolish to think this would all be fun
Michael Harding: The magpies and I could both do with shedding a bit of weight
I took myself to the Camino a few weeks ago but I was focused on walking rather than pilgrimage
The view from Fanad Lighthouse fills us with a sense of our own mortality
‘In a curious way this wilderness feels like home,’ the General said, and I said nothing, though I understood what he meant
Michael Harding: A funeral reminds me of the sweetness of silence, when conversation was more than just chatter
Annie presided over her wonderful kitchen with the authority of a speaker in the Houses of Parliament
Michael Harding: Contrary to popular opinion, it’s all go in Leitrim all the time
Talking to plants and small birds is entirely sensible in this part of the country
My camera notices details I miss. I’ve never had this experience with my iPhone
Michael Harding: The camera’s heartbroken original owner gave me a gift - I imagine her sorrow embedded in it, and at times I feel it points at things without my guidance
Michael Harding: To me, Bundoran streets were once as glamorous as those of Las Vegas
Michael Harding: As a teenager, I’d hitch from Cavan with a tent on my back and sleep in the grass just for the thrill of a night in the Astoria Ballroom with Dickie Rock
Michael Harding: Did I ever tell you the story of the two cats?
With a permanent limp Jack joined the half-blind Peabody and the bewildered Charlie in a quiet but significant communion of love
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