Tag: Ireland
Flow Like a River

Flow Like a River

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“May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.” Rainer Maria Rilke

The manatee played with my vest, searching for something interesting to satisfy her curiosity. I kept flooding my mask as I laughed into the snorkel while holding my big underwater housing at an awkward angle for a selfie with my friend. This was a moment when unbounded joy leaped from my heart and the experience of Oneness was celebrated. I think Rilke had it right….be as a child and let life flow.

I see that with musicians, especially at venues like The Frog Pond in Silverhill, Alabama, where singer-songwriters are encouraged to jam. When the minds of musicians go into that flow, they sync and magic happens. Literally….it unfolds before our eyes.

I want to explore the world with the spirit of flow and openness. When I can be in that place within my Self, I can find holy ground no matter where I roam.

 

When I was in Ireland last September, on the island of Inis Mor, I allowed the spirit of flow to take my feet and surrendered to the direction it led. The path dead-ended at an ancient bee hive stone hut. Far in the distance was a beautiful white horse. I couldn’t see a way to the horse but longed to meet it.

Later that day, our retreat attendees went with a guide to the same place and there, in front of the stone hut was the white horse…waiting for me. Excitement bubbled forth as I greeted the horse. I called her Fiona. Later, when I looked up the name, I found out it means white. She and I still have a strong connection even though there is an ocean between us.

Even in my painting, I follow the muse of humor and fun. Buddy meets a dolphin….Buddy and the whales….much of my work with paint and canvas is a celebration of color, fun and life.

You don’t have to be frisked by a manatee or meet a white horse who likes to smile to connect with the flow. Everyone’s flow and presence can look different. The key, perhaps, is to open our hearts and minds to surrender, to acceptance….and then simply play.

Musicians can be excellent examples of how to be in the flow…to not force or hold back. When they are having fun…it’s magic.

What magic would you like to experience? What calls your heart? What holds you back?

Whatever you do, stop wasting time and waiting for the right moment to be in your flow. Open your heart and mind and leap into the River of Life. “May what I do flow like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.” And I might add to Rilke’s contemplation that you might find Holy Ground wherever you are in that flow.

I invite you to listen to Luka Bloom’s music and follow the way of the Sacred Child to find Holy Ground.

 
Deepening with Nature

Deepening with Nature

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I wrote a friend tonight about the correlation between my connection with nature and feeling at home in myself. Being with humpback whales, spotted dolphins, manatees….all have given me vast experiences of connection to Oneness with the Universe and help take me deeper into relationship with my Self.

Other moments photographing nature in the mountains or in wild places in nature, such as Ireland and England, have opened doorways to inner realms of vast expanse that changed my life. I also realized, as I wrote to her, that I haven’t had a really profound, ah-ha type, nature connection since returning from Ireland last February and that’s partly why I’ve been out of sorts lately.

Connection with nature is my rock, my anchor to deepening the connection to my inner realms. And really, there isn’t an outer and inner anything. It’s all One. The truth is simply this….when I align deeply with nature I feel Oneness, the lines of separation vanish and I am at peace.

I go outside daily and cycle often at sunrise but it’s different to go outside and be outside. What keeps me from being with nature?

Empathic distress probably has a lot to do with my unrest of late. If what I value most is in danger of disappearing, I am at risk for anxiety and stress and separation from Oneness….all of us who love our planet face those same risks…humans, animals, plants….all life is at risk. If the places and animals I love the most deteriorate and disappear, then what? It is a very stressful time to be alive because we see what is at risk–everything.

What is this environmental and social nightmare we are collectively creating?

While I can be active and make socially and environmentally good choices, the most important action I can take is to develop a strong practice that takes me into Oneness, into nature…deep into Nature.

John Muir, my favorite naturalist and nature writer reminds me… “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”

And Black Elk reminded us, “Crazy Horse dreamed and went into the world where there is nothing but the spirits of all things. That is the real world that is behind this one, and everything we see here is something like a shadow from that one.”

 

 

 
Brigid’s Cross

Brigid’s Cross

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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 home? A 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.



 
Deep Listening

Deep Listening

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Early morning is no stranger to me. While my body adjusts to being six hours ahead of this time zone, I’ve spent more time outdoors…in the early morning…much earlier than my usual pre-dawn salute to the day.

I left for Ireland while it was still chilly here in coastal Alabama–we’ve had a very cold winter. After eleven days away I returned home to spring.  Literal spring. Flowers and trees blooming, warm temperatures and insects singing.

During the dark hours of the day, hours before sunrise, the insects have awakened. Their soft chirping preludes the intense music they will make later…during summer nights. Their sounds remind me of life that continues even when there are no outward signs.


When we take the time to listen deeply we notice things we miss when speeding through life. The 3 a.m. concerts have helped me connect deeper with nature, with the subtle stirrings that give evidence of continuous life even when the cold, dark, silent winter is upon us.
What If

What If

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The journey to Ireland has been a wonderful one. Staying in cottages or apartments has gone well until last night. The house was okay but the heating system didn’t work so well. But after wandering around outside I understood more of the issue that created unease.

It snowed last night so this morning I walked down the gravel driveway to a beautiful river lined with old trees and their moss-covered limbs. I played one of my new whistles for the creatures of the woodland.

As the music flowed, I sensed an appreciation for the tune from the spirits of nature. It felt as if they had been shoved aside from the small development of homes that destroyed part of the woodlands around the site. The music seemed to soothe and feed the beautiful elemental energies that had been forgotten.

All along the way I have been playing my Irish whistles, speaking words of gratitude, walking as softly as possible and doing my best to capture the essence of these places through photography and writing. Today I felt moved to write about the ones that are ignored when contemplating building, developing or altering a natural environment.

What if we took the time to tell the Earth, Thank you! every day. What if we played music to nurture the Earth. Or read poetry to Her. What if we made a conscious connection to Earth and Her many creatures and beings that reside here. What if we saw the Earth as a conscious being–different from our consciousness–but conscious still….

What if?