When I attended my first céilí, I did not know what I was doing.

I went in the wrong direction. I couldn’t keep track of the patterns. I counted everything in threes and sevens. I even asked:

“If the music is in eights, why are we counting in threes and sevens?”

But I danced anyway.

That doesn’t mean I wasn’t nervous, anxious or scared. I was.

But I didn’t wait until I understood it all. I learned by joining in, listening to the music, making mistakes and coming back.

As an adult learner, I often think I need to know more before I begin. As a teacher, I know that you don’t need to know anything before you begin.

But the céilí wasn’t where my dancing began.

I began in a class.

The class felt less intimidating than the céilí. There was a teacher to explain what we were doing, time to repeat the movements and a smaller group where I could slowly get to know people.

The class gave me a way into the larger dancing community. It helped me feel more comfortable and gave me the confidence to keep showing up—even when I was nervous.

The teacher had my back.

Fall is my favorite time of year. It is the beginning of something new—and, since I was 15 years old, it has marked the beginning of the dancing season.

The monthly dances started up again, filled with wonderful music and energy. In fact, the céilí last Friday felt like the dances from years ago. A large part of that was the 20 or so Lewis & Clark students who joined us for a field trip.

As we all danced together, I thought back to my own early days. At 15, I thought the college students at the céilí were so much older than I was. I was excited to dance with them, but I was also shy and intimidated.

Dancing—and having a community where I could connect with people—helped me move through that shyness. Before long, I was out on the floor dancing with them.

Last Friday, one week away from turning 51, those Lewis & Clark students looked so young to me. I was excited to dance with them and hoped that someone on that floor might catch the dancing and music bug, just as I did all those years ago.

Fall also marks the beginning of the weekly class season, and this week kicks off the season. There is something for everyone—in person, online and in different Portland neighborhoods.

You don’t need to arrive at a beginning class already knowing how to dance.

You don’t need natural rhythm, special shoes or the confidence to get everything right.

You only need enough curiosity to begin.

Knowing comes later. Confidence comes later. First, you simply step onto the floor.

Fall 2026 classes begin this week, and you are invited to join us:

◈ Tuesday: Introduction to Irish Dance Traditions at PCC Rock Creek

◈ Wednesday: Online Beginning Sean-nós

◈ Wednesday: Online Intermediate Sean-nós

◈ Wednesday: In-Person Beginning Sean-nós

◈ Friday: Irish Set Dancing—Cork & Kerry at PCC Southeast

If you have been waiting until you feel more prepared, this is your invitation to come exactly as you are. We will begin at the beginning and build from there, one step at a time.

No one will be turned away from my classes for lack of funds.

When I was learning, I volunteered and was given many opportunities to dance and participate when I could not afford them. I am more than happy to offer that same opportunity to you.

If you want to dance but the cost is a barrier, please reach out to me. We will remove that barrier together.

Make this the week you begin your dance journey.

Come exactly as you are.

There is a place for you in the dance. We are ready to welcome you, take your hand and step onto the floor together.

This Week

◈ Tuesday, Sep 22, 2026 — Introduction to Irish Dance Traditions

PCC Rock Creek • 10:00–11:00 AM

Explore set dancing, céilí dances, kitchen dances, sean-nós and old-style step dancing. All levels are welcome.

Dances:

Old-style step dance

Céilí dances: Harvest, Siege of Carrick, Siege of Ennis or Haymakers

Kitchen dance: Two-Hand Hornpipe

Sean-nós: reels

Set dance: Claddagh Set

Details and registration

◈ Tuesday, Sep 22, 2026 — Tuesday Céilí at Steeplejack

Steeplejack Union on Hawthorne • 6:30–8:30 PM

Music by Emily Dineen & Preston Howard Wilde

Calling: Maldon Meehan & Phil Meehan

No partner or previous experience needed. All dances will be taught and called.

Dances: Corofin Plain, Inis Oírr, Ballyvourney and Cashel

If time: Connemara

Details and registration

◈ Wednesday, Sep 23, 2026 — Fall Sean-nós Classes Begin

Beginning Sean-nós Jigs — Online

4:00–5:00 PM Pacific

Intermediate Sean-nós Jigs — Online

6:00–7:00 PM Pacific

Beginning Sean-nós Jigs — In Person, Portland

7:00–8:00 PM Pacific

Details and registration

◈ Friday, Sep 25, 2026 — Irish Set Dancing: Cork & Kerry

PCC Southeast • 6:30–8:20 PM

Learn foundational dances and techniques from the Cork and Kerry traditions. All levels are welcome, and no partner is required.

Dances: Televara Set, Borlin Set and West Kerry Set

Details and registration

◈ Saturday, Sep 26, 2026 — Amber & Maldon’s 51st Birthday Céilí

Together, we are 102!

6:00–10:00 PM

Columbia Ecovillage Condominium

4647 NE Killingsworth Street, Portland

Bring a dish to share, instruments, dance shoes, games and yourself.

Street parking only. Please do not use the guest parking inside the complex.

Looking Ahead ◈

◈ Tuesday, Sep 29, 2026 — Tuesday Céilí at Steeplejack

6:30–8:30 PM

Music by Alison Baker with Theresa Baker

Dances: Ballyvourney, Moycullen, Kilfenora Plain and Clare Lancers

If time: Connemara

Details

◈

Until next Monday…

Keep listening.

Keep dancing.

Keep the music alive.

Maldon

Zoom Recording

• Download recording here

Resourses

Article about Shoes, Shoes, Shoes

Spotify page – music playlists.

Youtube page – music and dance playlists, plus instructional videos for learning on your own.

I’m a One-Step Gal

One of my favorite things to do with my students is take a workshop alongside them.

I tell them all the time that I am not a quick learner. I wasn’t naturally good at dancing when I started, and new material still doesn’t come naturally to me.

That can sound like lip service until they see me learning in a workshop.

I love looking around the room and seeing my students understand the steps faster than I do. Meanwhile, I’m the one thinking, “Could we go a little slower, please?”

Maybe some of them are thinking the same thing. Maybe everyone in the room is thinking it. Or is it just me?

I am a one-step gal.

At a certain point, I become full. My brain and body have taken in as much new information as they can hold. Adding another step will not help. I need to stop, take what I have, and spend some time with it.

That doesn’t always happen during the workshop. It happens later, when I can slow the step down and woodshed it.

I find the smallest part I can repeat. I work on that piece until it begins to feel comfortable. Then I add the next piece. Little by little, I put the step back together and give it time to settle into my body.

If I don’t spend that time with the material, I don’t remember it. It doesn’t become something I continue to use in my dancing.

The workshop introduces me to the step.

The woodshedding is where I actually learn it.

When I meet up with my students again, I may be the person who remembers the material—not because I learned it most quickly, but because I stayed with it long enough to make it my own.

It is easy to look around a workshop and think:

“Everyone is learning this faster than I am. I must not be good at it.”

But how quickly you pick something up does not determine how well you can eventually learn it.

Some of us need time. We need repetition, play, and space to let the movement settle in our bodies.

The people you admire are not necessarily people who understood everything immediately or possessed some special “natural talent.” They may simply be people who stayed with the material long enough to make it their own.

You don’t have to learn quickly.

Give yourself time to learn deeply.

This week, choose one small piece of a step—not the entire step—and spend five minutes with it.

Slow it down. Repeat it. Let yourself play with it without worrying about how it looks or how fast it is.

Five minutes may not feel like much, but it is enough time to begin building a relationship with that movement.

You don’t need to keep up with anyone else. You don’t need to collect every step or understand everything immediately.

Bring your curiosity, choose one step, and give yourself permission to learn it in your own time.

I’d love to hear from you.

When you see someone learning faster than you, what do you tell yourself?

Simply hit reply.

◈ ◈ ◈

This Week

◈ Online

Guided Dance Session

Wednesday, September 2
6:00 PM PT • 7:00 PM MT • 8:00 PM CT • 9:00 PM ET

Join me on Zoom for a guided old-style step and sean-nós dance session. I’ll provide the playlist, and we’ll dance together.

You can dance your own steps or try material you have learned in class. This is a safe place to practice your steps with music.

Keep ’er lit and dance full-out, enjoy the tunes and see what comes out of your feet, or dance one step for the entire session. It is entirely up to you.

This is a chance to bring your steps up to dance speed, play with the music, and see what happens.

Dance Session Playlist

Class information, recordings, and practice resources

Join the Zoom session

◈ Open Studio

Monday • Wednesday • Friday
8:30 AM PT • 9:30 AM MT • 10:30 AM CT • 11:30 AM ET • 4:30 PM Ireland

Come practice, ask questions, or simply enjoy practicing alongside others.

Open Studio details

Join Open Studio on Zoom

◈ Around Portland

Tuesday Steeplejack Céilí

Tuesday, September 1
6:30 PM

Music: Bob Soper
Callers: Maldon, Phil, Alison, and perhaps more

Dance List

• Stack of Barley
• Sliabh Luachra
• Inis Oírr
• Clare Lancers
• Antrim Square

See all classes and events

◈ Looking Ahead

• Friday, September 11 — Second Friday Céilí, Salem, Oregon
• Wednesday, September 16 — Step Into Sean-nós Dance: Free Online Workshop
• Friday, September 18 — Third Friday Céilí with Mikey Beglan, Portland, Oregon

Fall classes begin the week of September 21

• Tuesday, September 22 — Introduction to Irish Dance Traditions, Portland
• Wednesday, September 23 — Beginning Sean-nós, online
• Wednesday, September 23 — Intermediate Sean-nós, online
• Friday, September 25 — Set Dancing Fundamentals: Cork and Kerry, Portland
• Saturday, September 26 — Maldon and Amber’s 51st Birthday Céilí

◈ ◈ ◈

Until next Monday…

Keep listening.

Keep dancing.

Keep the music alive.

— Maldon

Memory Monday ◈

There Isn’t One Right Way to Learn

For a long time, I thought I wasn’t smart.

Reading and spelling didn’t come easily to me.

When those things were being taught in school, I was sometimes taken out of the classroom. I believe the idea was that I would get extra help.

But it backfired.

The room I was sent to didn’t really teach me anything. I mostly sat there and did homework.

When I was 12, I moved from Mendocino to Portland. For the first time, I was in a larger school and had a stable living situation.

I worked incredibly hard.

I learned how to study. I learned how to do my homework. I learned how to work within the system I was in.

By tenth grade, I was getting mostly straight A’s.

But what people couldn’t see was how much work it took.

I would stay up all night finishing assignments, especially writing assignments.

Around that time, I started taking Latin.

My teacher was Mrs. Sullivan, the last Portland Public Schools teacher teaching Latin.

I was so excited to take her class. My mom had studied Latin. My dad had studied Latin. My grandparents had studied Latin. And I want to be like them. .

One day, Mrs. Sullivan asked me:

“Are you dyslexic?”

I said no.

She asked if I’d ever been tested.

I hadn’t.

She had noticed something important.

Not that I couldn’t learn.

She noticed the way I was learning.

I was tested, and sure enough, I was dyslexic.

After that, I was able to work with a tutor who specialized in dyslexia. I began learning strategies that actually suited the way my brain worked.

And I made progress.

But something else happened that changed the way I saw myself.

After my biology teacher, Mrs. Dumas, learned I was dyslexic, she came to me one day and told me that we were going to play a game in class in a few weeks.

She said she didn’t know why, but every student she’d taught who was dyslexic had been particularly good at this game.

I don’t remember all the details of how the game worked, but I remember the tree.

We divided into teams, and we had leaves representing different species—animals, reptiles, and other groups—that had to be placed on the tree in particular ways.

And somehow…

I just knew where they went.

I couldn’t have explained why.

I could see it.

And our team rocked.

I’ve thought about that experience many times since.

Because Mrs. Dumas did something important before we ever played the game.

She told me she thought I would be good at it.

I’d spent years believing that because reading and spelling were difficult for me, maybe I wasn’t smart.

And here was a teacher telling me that the way my brain worked might actually help me do something well.

She gave me the confidence to trust what I saw.

To trust that I might be right.

To trust that I was smart.

◈ ◈ ◈

I think about Mrs. Sullivan and Mrs. Dumas now when I teach dance.

One of my favorite parts of teaching isn’t figuring out whether someone can learn.

It’s figuring out how they learn.

Some dancers need to see the whole dance first.

Others need everything broken down into small pieces.

Some want words for each movement.

Some want numbers.

Some learn through sounds.

Some need to watch.

Some need to do it.

Often, it’s a combination.

I’m a kinesthetic and auditory learner.

I learn by doing, watching, and hearing.

Words and numbers aren’t my first language when it comes to dance.

It can take me hours to translate something I know in my body into words or counts.

But another dancer may need exactly those words or counts before the movement makes sense.

Neither way is wrong.

There isn’t one right way to learn to dance.

That’s something I want people to discover in my classes.

If something doesn’t make sense the first way I explain it, we can try another way.

And another.

Until we find the way that makes sense to you.

Because sometimes the problem isn’t that you can’t learn something.

You just haven’t been shown it in the way you learn yet.

◈ ◈ ◈

I’d love to hear from you.

How do you learn best?

◈ ◈ ◈

Until next Monday…

Keep listening.
Keep dancing.
Keep the music alive.

— Maldon

Memory Monday ◈

Memory Monday ◈

I Thought I Was Bad at Practicing

For years, I thought I was bad at practicing.

I didn’t have a regular practice routine.

I wasn’t setting aside an hour every day to work on my dancing.

And I felt guilty about it.

I put a lot of pressure on myself about what practice was supposed to look like.

Then one day, I was in a grocery store in Seattle with dancer Alicia Guinn.

I was standing in front of the cheese, trying to decide what to buy.

And while I was deciding…

I was dancing.

I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

Alicia came around the corner, saw me, and said,

“See! I’m not the only one who does that!”

I remember thinking:

Wait.

I’m practicing.

I just hadn’t been calling it practice.

That little moment in the cheese aisle changed the way I thought about practicing—and eventually, the way I taught it.

Practice doesn’t have to mean an hour in a studio.

It doesn’t have to require special clothes, a particular floor, or a carefully planned routine.

It can be five minutes.

It can be one step.

It can be listening to a tune.

It can be trying a rhythm while you’re waiting for the bus.

Or standing at the elevator.

Or waiting in line at the grocery store.

Your feet come everywhere with you.

So maybe the question isn’t:

“Did I practice today?”

Maybe it’s:

“Where could I dance for a few minutes today?”

That’s something I want my students—especially beginners—to know.

You don’t have to completely rearrange your life to become a dancer.

Start small.

Dance while you’re waiting for something.

Those few minutes count.

◈ ◈ ◈

I’d love to hear from you.

Where’s the funniest or most unexpected place you’ve ever found yourself dancing?

Or, if you’re just beginning:

Where could you dance for a few minutes today?

◈ ◈ ◈

This Week

I’d love to dance with you this week—online or here in Portland!

◈ Sean-nós Dance Classes

Monday & Wednesday

7:30 AM PT • 8:30 AM MT • 9:30 AM CT • 10:30 AM ET • 3:30 PM Ireland

Bring a YouTube clip of a musician or tune you’d like to work with, and we’ll develop steps to the recording.

I’ll guide you through the process while each dancer works with their own recording. There will also be time to share what you’re discovering and receive feedback.

Class information, Zoom links, recordings, and practice resources: https://maldonmeehan.com/2026-august-sean-nos-dance

◈ Open Studio Practice

Monday • Wednesday • Friday

8:30 AM PT • 9:30 AM MT • 10:30 AM CT • 11:30 AM ET • 4:30 PM Ireland

Need a little accountability? Join Open Studio hosted by Kathy Fletcher—a welcoming space to practice, ask questions, or simply spend time dancing alongside others.

And this week especially:

Remember that even a few minutes count.

Open Studio Details: https://maldonmeehan.com/open-studio

◈ Around Portland

Tuesday, August 18 — Steeplejack Set Dancing

6:30 PM

Join us for an evening of Irish set dancing with live music. No partner or experience needed—we’ll teach every dance.

Music: Eddie Parente & Cary Novotny

Dance List

• South Galway
• Cavan Reel Set
• Cashel Set
• Merchant

More Information: https://maldonmeehan.com/event/tuesday-steeplejack-ceili

◈ Friday, August 21 — Third Friday Céilí: Lúnasa

7:00 PM

Music: Betsy Branch

Waverly United Church of Christ
3300 SE Woodward St
Portland, OR

Dance list available on the website.

Details: https://maldonmeehan.com/event/3rd-friday-ceili-9

◈ ◈ ◈

Until next Monday…

Keep listening.

Keep dancing.

Keep the music alive.

— Maldon

I still remember my first céilí.

I was nervous.

Really nervous.

The last dance I’d been to was in middle school, and I remember feeling like a wallflower. Later, in ninth grade, I wanted to go to another dance. I asked someone if they’d go with me, and they said no. So I never went.

Walking into my first Irish céilí, all of those feelings came rushing back.

But this time was different.

Mary Lowes smiled and simply said,

“Join us.”

Those two words changed everything.

I had no idea what I was doing.

I went the wrong direction.

I counted my 3s and 7s instead of listening to the music.

And somehow…

I danced the Fairy Reel and the Three-Hand Hornpipe with my dad and Mary.

I danced the Haymakers Jig with John, one of the Lewis & Clark students.

I remember thinking,

“I feel so grown up.”

During the break, one of the musicians, Tríona Ní Dhomhnaill, sang. Everyone sat on the floor and listened together. I’d never seen a room full of adults do that before. It was beautiful.

There was even a raffle.

On the drive home, I couldn’t stop talking about the music.

My dad smiled and said,

“Wait until you hear the albums I have at home.”

Albums?

The musicians I’d just danced to had albums?

We got home after midnight and put on a Bothy Band record. I stayed up listening until the early hours of the morning.

When I woke up the next day, I only had one question:

“When is the next céilí?”

Looking back now, I realize that evening wasn’t really about learning the Fairy Reel or the Three-Hand Hornpipe.

It was about someone making space for me.

Someone saying,

“Join us.”

More than 35 years later, that’s still why I teach.

I want to be that person for someone else.

Because sometimes all it takes is one welcoming evening…

and two simple words.

“Join us.” 

◈ ◈ ◈

I’d love to hear from you.

What was your first experience with Irish music or dance?

◈ ◈ ◈