Brigid’s Cross

Brigid’s Cross

This summary of the recent journey to Ireland has been avoided because it brings the experience to another level of finality. I want the travels to remain open and fresh and ever-expanding in my heart and mind. Alas, it is time to reflect and accept the many gifts and let them rest peacefully.

There were many powerful moments; perhaps the most meaningful experience of the trip was at a small convenience store where a post office clerk gifted me with a freshly made Brigid’s cross.

I planned the trip so arrival would be on Brigid’s Day or Imbolc, a cross-quarter day between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. Imbolc celebrates the first-stirrings of spring and was originally a festival associated with the goddess Brigid and fertility. It was later Christianized into the festival of St. Brigid…who was based on the Gaelic goddess.

Tradition calls for reeds to be gathered every Imbolc and woven into a cross. The cross is usually placed on the hearth as a reminder to honor the home and family. The next year it is burned and a new cross woven and placed.

When I saw the cross, I asked the clerk if she made it. She said her sister did and asked if I would like to have it. It was such an act of generosity and kindness. I politely thanked her but said I couldn’t take her cross. She said, “I can get another one, please take it.”

Tears filled my eyes and my voice cracked as I tried to thank her. Finally, I was able to speak a proper thank-you.

The cross sat on the dash of the car as I drove through the Burren. It waited patiently as I visited the Poulnabrone dolmen burial chamber and had an otherworldly experience with my Celtic whistle and spirits of the land and sky.

The green cross sat on the window sill in the bedroom of the cottage I stayed at in Doolin. It was there watching the two horse neighbors, the sacred hill where the moon set every morning and the Atlantic Ocean in the distance.

It was there as I drifted off to blissful sleep after traditional Irish music that sent my soul soaring. It was there when I dreamed of finding a harp and learned the saying, “It is now strung and shall be heard,” Ireland’s call to arise from persecution and claim their right to freedom.

Brigid’s Cross traveled to the Maumturk Mountains and heard my anxious words as snow fell and temperatures dropped as I drove toward Killary Fjord and the village of Leenane. It heard the first, tentative notes of the new whistles I adopted from traditional music stores….adventures in their own right.

It heard the story of the hilarious attempt at candle-lighting at the small, Gothic cathedral at Kylemore Abbey; it witnessed the wild attempt to hike the upper reaches of Diamond Hill in Connemara National Park.

The many beautiful moments at the Cliffs of Moher, beaches, rocky grasslands, steep-mountainous roads, villages….are all stored in the reeds of the cross. As well, feelings of gratitude, love, excitement, wonder, awe, bliss, grief, courage and ‘home’ fill the spiral design.

After months of singing to Brigid every morning as a daily dedication and intentionally planning my travels to coincide with Her day, the simple cross created and gifted with love is the symbol that ignites my memories of a land for which I am profoundly grateful.

On arrival to Ireland–after landing, picking up the rental car and beginning the drive from Dublin towards Doolin–I randomly chose an exit on the motorway to find food. Nothing was close to the highway so I took a turn and ended up passing Brigid’s Well in Kildare. I felt Her welcoming spirit so strongly. It is difficult to believe I didn’t stop and visit this holy well. What was I thinking? 

The only other regret I have from those 10 days is not returning to the Doolin Hotel for music the Monday before leaving for northern Connemara. The music there was transformational to my soul…(sigh).

I could return and spend a month in Doolin wandering the countryside and enjoying the serenity of the land and immense strength of the Atlantic Ocean. The music could carry me to other dimensions as I once again found myself in my spiritual home.

What is a spiritual homeA place that supports and nurtures us to be the fullest expression of higher self. For me, the wild, west coast of Ireland has twice awakened me to freedom to be myself–connected to land, sea and sky in complete surrender. The relationship I share with the land there is profound and deep, ever-evolving into greater understanding of what it means to consciously walk upon this sacred planet.


May Your Life Rise Up to Meet You

May Your Life Rise Up to Meet You

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 from your precious heart.

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 hearts 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 you know you are never alone.




Sometimes our greatest treasures are those we forget we have.

The poem scribbled on a scrap of paper.

A rock from a stream where the elk appeared from dark, green woods.

A shell found on the beach during that amazing sunrise.

The white horse appearing as if by magic.

Sunrise at the prehistoric fort in Ireland.

Using our bank account balance or the amount of cash in our hand to measure wealth will surely lead us to misery, even if they are filled…because then we worry they won’t be.

Our real, lasting treasures are those that are priceless. This is the wealth upon which we truly build our lives.

Finding Peace

Finding Peace

As the year winds down reflection is a normal part of our process before the new year begins. This year I find myself wanting to tie up loose ends that tend to entangle my best intentions.

When our thoughts get stuck and the chemical groove in our brains deepens with repeated rumination, it can be difficult to step out of old patterns. As humans we tend to chew our thoughts like cows chew cud but we really get no nourishment from our thought-grinding efforts.

This morning I set the intention of trust and peace for my yoga practice. Over the past couple of weeks this theme has arisen often. Clarity came today like a divine bell ringing in my mind and heart. What if everything is exactly as its supposed to be? 

What if everything we spend so much energy and effort and time replaying in our minds does nothing to further our growth and development. What if everything really is exactly as its supposed to be for our soul’s growth….what if!

The choices we make to leave, move, begin again….to write the book we dream of writing, take the photograph we long to take, write the letter we yearn to write or share the poem we wrote….all begin with an urging from within us. Rather than spend years questioning and fretting, what if we accept these parts of our journey as exactly what needs to happen to open other doors?

So share your art, your writing, the poem you wrote. Move to a new place if you feel led to do so. Downsize and clear out if that’s what you feel prompted to do. Write a friend you haven’t heard from in years. Follow the push from within and trust the guidance constantly whispering to us, even when we don’t hear it.

Perhaps finding peace is as simple as accepting that everything is exactly as it is supposed to be for our soul’s growth. With that acceptance comes the opening of unlimited potential.

What is it that calls you? What does your heart long to do or say? Where do you long to travel? Pay attention to what calls you and let it guide the way.