Irish Music and a Blessing
In remembering the last journey to Ireland my mind goes back to Hotel Doolin and the amazing music we experienced each night. One night in particular we were able to get a table adjoining the musicians table. Yes they have a table….they sit around it and play. The rest of us are just there to witness their magical circle of music.
My journal reminds me, “The music was transcendent tonight! Absolutely transcendent. I called in all of who I am and listened with my whole self. YIPPEE!”
I drifted off to sleep with the sweet sounds of Ireland echoing through the dream time.
We flew in to Dublin on a super-eclipse-blue moon that hadn’t happened since 1866. Every morning the moon was hanging over the ocean when the frost kissed the tender blades of green. She inspired me quite a bit and I wrote this about her: “She shines over us in her elliptical journey, from one horizon to the other, with soft light causing tides and other invisible stirrings in hearts and minds as we open to touch the Unseen. We breathe in her grace and carry her rhythms into our soul.”
The music and moon must have inspired my writing. February 5, 2018 as I wrote this blessing in my journal that morning:
“May the dawn find you at peace with the coming day.
May the beauty of the first flower of spring cause joy to burst forth with gladness.
May the cycles of coming and going of the moon ever remind you of the cycles of your own coming and going.
May the life that longs to live in you rise up like the Earth’s daily awakening
And guide you ever onward to your heart’s true calling.
May every breath that warms your lips be one of peace with your life.
May your life be the true expression of your soul’s brilliance.
And may you find friendship with all of creation so that you know you are never alone.”
With gratitude I embody this path of a pilgrim, seeking inspiration and wholeness wherever I find myself. I hope to ‘find myself’ in Ireland again…soon.
Today my friend Gabriela and I made the journey to a local pub….unfortunately it wasn’t in Ireland…but it was Irish. We celebrated the anniversary of our journey to the west coast of Ireland last year. A year ago we were packing to go….today we were both sharing how we miss Ireland every single day.
In the walk back through time via my journal, I read about Fanore Beach…”We hit the tide just right and could photograph the sky reflected in tidal pools. The rivulets reminded me of watery veins–and how the sea is in my blood…in all of our blood.”
We drove north afterwards and stopped by a store/post office. The clerk had a freshly made Brigid’s Cross. I commented on it and told her we planned our trip to coincide with Brigid’s Day. She gifted me with the cross. She said her sister made it and she would get another one. I was moved to tears as Brigid was such a powerful healing force when I visited Ireland months earlier. That cross still sits on my altar and reminds me of kindness and Ireland.
Later we visited the Poulnabrone Dolmen, a portal tomb from the Neolithic Period….4200 BC to 2900 BC. Being February, there were not many people. I wanted to play my new Irish whistle after photographing the site. It was very windy and a rain/sleet storm blew in quickly. Everyone left and I was there…alone but not really. I sensed a strong presence there. I stayed behind determined to offer music to those that rested there. The wind made playing very challenging but as I played with my heart, under sleet and heavy rain clouds, the rain stopped.
I watched as the sun split the clouds. The sky turned amazing blue and I was able to capture delicious images of the structure. In the photographs it appears as though the clouds are being pushed away from the top of the stone….a clearing of sorts. I felt it was a thank you for the music, or my attempt at music, and good intentions.
Several times while connecting with nature in Ireland, I had immediate experiences returned after I wished the spirits well. It felt as if the Shining Ones were right there, barely hidden by a thin veil. I wrote a message I heard from them in my journal, “You are one with us…Ta’ tu’ ar cheann linn.”
After Gabriela and I parted this afternoon, in Alabama, I realized that seeing her brought such joy and sadness….joy because she’s an awesome person and friend and she reminds me of Ireland and sadness because she reminds me of Ireland. It was a while before we saw each other after we returned last year. I felt the need to withdraw but never understood until today. I noticed I felt like I did when I was a child and left the Smoky Mountains….withdrawn, sad, didn’t want to leave …I had emotional pain every time I left those sacred mountains. It’s the same with Ireland. Today, as we sat in the Irish pub in Pensacola, all the great memories of our travels last February came back and I cherish them, even when remembering makes me miss Ireland even more.
I suspect each of us has a place or places that speak strongly to our hearts. The mountains of North Carolina have spoken to me since childhood. Celtic spirituality has spoken to me since my teenage years and has remained the basis of my deep connection to Nature and God. It lead me to Ireland.
It is my wish that everyone connect strongly with a place…a place they can visit and return to….maybe live in even….and allow that place to touch their hearts deeply, profoundly. When we open to connections such as this, we open to wholeness and a profound sense of being alive and at one with all life.
“I awake thinking it’s dawn. It is 7am according to the clock but when I pull back the curtains its the full brilliant moon hanging over the Atlantic Ocean that created the light creeping into my room.”
On that day, February 3, 2018, I awoke in Mary’s Meadow cottage in Doolin. My friend Gabriela and I rented it for five nights before we moved northward, up the west coast…the Wild Atlantic Way.
The silver light that morning called me through frosty temperatures and I grabbed my camera and tripod and quietly crept down the hall and into the fresh, pre-dawn air. The sun had another hour of slumber at that northern latitude.
It’s funny what catches my creative ‘eye’ when I go into photography mode. I always wait for the landscape to whisper…Check this out! Look at this. The light sure does reflect off of this nicely. All this was envisioning a 30 second exposure.
“That golden orb seemed to slumber forever. Then clouds settled in the eastern horizon so only the reflection of light could be seen bouncing off the bottom of clouds.” I didn’t write how freaking cold it was…probably because my fingers were quite numb…but I remember.
After hot tea and breakfast, Gabriela and I drove to the Cliffs of Moher….Ireland’s most visited natural wonder. Gabriela opted for the nice visitor center while I explored the edges. I like edges…thresholds. There is a sense of finality with an edge, especially those along the sheer cliffs facing the Atlantic Ocean. They’ve been there for over 350 million years….I was there twice on that pilgrimage…or three times. I couldn’t get enough. But only because it was February and not the tourist season. Last year 1,580,010 people visited that place….so you won’t find me there during the tourist season.
We found many shops and cafes closed but the tradeoff for quiet moments with few people was worth it to me. On that first visit, while Gabriela was warming her toes and getting away from those dizzying heights, I was going beyond the official site along the muddy path. I walked a very long while, enjoyed time alone with a raven that sat on the cliff edge talking to me and then took off and flew…maybe it was the one that perched on the luggage rack as soon as we parked. I imagined myself as the raven, soaring over the amazing cliffs and ocean. I’m not certain what she was saying but I listened carefully and then headed back along the trail.
I was about half way back and remembered I had the car key….and my friend couldn’t get her wallet to buy tea or scones. Ugh…dang it!
We enjoyed the afternoon in Ennis, where Custy’s Traditional Music Shop is located. I wanted to add to my collection of traditional Irish instruments. Thank goodness for GPS and a nice Guarda who directed us once we were parked.
“The land of Ireland feels like home to me. Real home. It speaks to the part of my spirit that craves raw, elemental beauty. I feel free to be myself here.” I wrote that in my journal and still feel it as strongly now as I did then.
That’s what Ireland taught me in the two visits there….find the place where that raw, elemental energy hasn’t been tamed and go there. Immerse my life there. If it can’t be Ireland, then perhaps the wilder areas of western North Carolina. I’m ready.
John O’Donohue often wrote or spoke about the Irish way of experiencing the landscape. Long ago the goddess Eriu, was sovereign over Her land. The modern name Eire evolved from the name of the goddess. So people of Ireland have a long history of living in sacred relationship with the landscape.
For example, one of the places my friend and I stayed was a newer holiday home development. It was near Clifden on the west coast and on a small river. The energy felt ‘off’ there. Like something was amiss….not dangerous or seedy but like there was imbalance.
Irish people have had a genuine love and appreciation for a living landscape that goes back literally ages. For some reason, the deep immersion of writing about ancient Ireland in my book and O’Donohue’s explanation helped me understand that in the US, the land here has been ‘conquered’ and put to use with little care or concern. It’s the anthesis of walking into a living landscape….it’s walking into open space and nothing more–empty space ready for development and building and conquering.
I suspect this is the fundamental problem with the US as we see the terrible darkness emerge from the collective unconscious of our foundation. We can blame a government administration but in reality I offer that the true difficulty lies in the way in which this country was began….conquering of sovereign, native people–with deep respect for the land–by invaders that declared themselves lord over every tree, animal, river, and rock.
No wonder the spirits of the land are hesitant to connect with humans. Centuries of two-legged domination would make the most beautiful of spirits wary…rightly so.
My first thought, in writing this blog, was it was a way to procrastinate the tedious process of formatting my book for E-book reading. While it began as that, it unfolded into something I have wanted to piece together and express for a very long time.
For over two years I’ve been moving through a threshold. In the Celtic way of thinking, a threshold is a place of transition where something is changing but you haven’t gotten to the ‘new’ way yet. It’s like a doorway in the realm of the psyche. Or a tunnel….and sometimes that tunnel can feel never-ending.
A tremendous love of the planet and all life here has guided my travels, photography and writing over the past 12 years. The desire to connect with underwater realms, sacred landscapes and wildlife has fueled a passion that led to the creation of several books and presentations to schools, libraries…anywhere people would listen.
Enter a time of Void; a going into intense darkness. For a very long time. Stumbling, trembling, groping through a maze of emotions, behaviors, patterns. Mucking through a dark cave…or as I like to call it, a messy treasure hunt.
Thankfully I have had guides met along the way to help navigate this journey. First, a white horse I met in Ireland has become a spiritual companion of strength and wisdom. I feel her run beside me as I cycle and journey with me in meditation. When I first saw her, I was walking by myself in Ireland at an old beehive hut made of stone where hermit priests lived during periods of intense spiritual practice. I saw her from a distance but couldn’t reach her due to the maze of stone walls. Our group returned later that afternoon and she was standing beside the hut waiting. And each time I visited solo, she would be there.
The rocks and land and sea of the west coast of Ireland awakened me…profoundly so…to a deeper connection with the planet and myself. I would walk up, by myself each night, to one of the ancient stone forts, maybe 5000 years old, and sit 700 feet above the Atlantic Ocean listening to the sea, to stars, to ancient voices that still speak if one can quieten the mind to hear.
During those walks up the steep path in darkness–with only starlight guiding me–I developed courage to walk in the dark, trusting that I would be okay. Those experiences helped me develop the ability to walk in darkness with courage.
Another guide I have had is a wholeness coach. She has been a true light in the darkness. Rose allows me to safely journey deep by holding a lantern and shining light on little gems that want excavation. Without a doubt, our work together has helped me move from a very stuck place to a place that is once again beginning to flow.
For many months it has been intense…an inner pilgrimage that has uprooted fears and shaken me to my core. In the process, parts of myself–seemingly lost lifetimes ago–are being reclaimed…really wise parts. Integration is happening. And finally, the vision is unfolding.
It’s not about saving the world or being a better photographer or writer or producing more books or giving more talks. It is about holding clearer space for love to move through and guide me. It’s about being an anchor of light for a planet in need of more light. And from that, everything will unfold.
It’s not a grand vision needed from any of us. It’s a simple vision of getting to a place where we can hold love in our hearts and let go of judgment, fear, resistance, anger, hate…the things that keep us stuck.
The most difficult thing I’ve ever done is face my own darkness….not the dark, creative realms of rich fertile, inner ground…rather, the darkness that seeks to snuff out light, like the Dementors in the Harry Potter movies. Those vile creatures gloried in despair and drained peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. We all have at least one inner Dementor.
Each of us must come to terms with this light-stealing darkness as we open to love. Whatever it is that takes us out of the pure expression of love is what needs examination. It is hard work… maddeningly difficult and exhausting. Should you wish to make the journey know there are others of us making it as well. You are not alone. We can all shine a little light for each other.
We can lovingly take responsibility for that within us which lessens the true self, the light-self, that is wanting to shine.