The Heart's Calling--Mystical ireland

I recently gave at talk at the Center for Spiritual Awakening in Pacific Grove about a journey to Ireland I took last spring.
This is the second part of that talk.

A ram surrounded by hawthorne and gorse at the Piper Stones in County Wicklow

Our simple but lovely cottage in Laragh and the van we traveled in for two weeks

Our first destination after arrival in Dublin was the village of Laragh in County Wicklow in Southwestern Ireland where we stayed in simple but lovely cottages in a quiet neighborhood bounded by pastures. Every day started with a morning circle, where we drew oracle cards from different Celtic and earth-based decks, shared our experiences and listened to poetry read by our group leader. The Irish venerate the written word, poetry in particular, so it was only natural to weave into the daily experience the works of poets, from O’Donohue, to David Wright, to Mary Oliver, to W.B Yeats, the country’s most famous and beloved bard. The morning circle set the tone as we embarked upon each day's adventure.

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St. Kevin's Well at Glendalaugh National Park in County Wicklow

Our first full day, we went to the national park of Glendalaugh, visiting two other sacred wells, the crystal-clear Upper Lake (where no boats are allowed) and St. Kevin’s cell, the site overlooking the lake where the Catholic monk escaped his community to meditate. We walked around the first well three times, a tradition among pilgrims and hung shreds of plant material on a nearby tree, another tradition among pilgrims. This one, however, has proven to be dubious since pilgrims often hang bits of yarn, ribbons and plastic, which may not be biodegradable, so they are damaging to the tree and the environment. Rosaleen’s group also does cleanup on these trees, removing items that may cause harm.

There was something deeply feminine about these wells, opening as they do quite naturally to provide the nourishing, fresh, waters of life from spring’s running deep within Mother Earth. A profound felt-sense of connection with Divine Mother would take root within us all over the course of this journey.

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Stone mushroom statuary at Knockrose Garden in County Wicklow

There was a visit to a verdant spring garden on land farmed by the same family for generations. Knockrose Garden was glorious, with a profusion of spring flowers such as honeysuckle, azaleas, rhododendron and peonies glistening with droplets from a recent light rain. A small temple or meditation room that had been built over a well held the presence of the Goddess and Gaia in a quiet but powerful way, and I felt myself relax deeply and open up as soon as we walked in the door. After visiting the garden, we had tea and cakes and gathered as a group in the meditation room, and Sharlyn, who has led circles based on the Goddess tradition for decades, offered this song:

“We all come from the Goddess
And to her we shall return.
Like a drop of rain
Flowing to the Ocean.”

Throughout the journey, Sharlyn would spontaneously lead us in songs to the goddess or Mother Earth that were appropriate to the setting, another way to weave the sacred into our everyday experience..

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Our group leader, Charlene, at the Piper Stones

The next day we drove to the Piper Stones, an ancient stone circle dating back to the Bronze Age. These historic sites, many of which are on private land, are marked with discrete signs, and public access is provided via steps and a one-at-a-time turn-style through the fencing. We entered a pasture where sheep calmly grazed, oblivious to the secrets held by the nearby stones. The presence of the ancients was so accessible--singing, dancing, observing their rituals--in this tranquil, mist-shrouded setting. We all wandered about, as if in a trance, from stone to stone, drinking in their primordial energy, their strength, and the endurance throughout the ages that they represent. We all came away feeling full of something indescribable, something essential to us all that we know deep in our bones but cannot always access--a taste of this profound and undeniable connectivity among all things.

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A faerie glen near Hollywood in County Wicklow

After lunch in Hollywood (a charming village that is said to be the precursor to the Southern California version), we walked a short distance to another discretely marked entrance over and through a fence to a faerie glen. To the Irish, faeries are not the benign little flying helpmates in skimpy costumes as depicted in Disney’s “Peter Pan,” but powerful entities not to be messed with because they can wreak havoc on those who do not respect them and their territory. And they can lead the unwary or easily beguiled (usually men who fall in love with their beauty) off into places from whence they may not return or if they do, it is decades or more later, and they are far worse for the wear.

There are many stories told about determined and overzealous developers who ignored concerns from the local populace about tampering with faerie glens, whose projects then met with one disaster after another. So, in general, the Irish, tend to leave these areas alone, although respectful visitors are welcome.

I don’t know from faeries; I don’t really have a position on the subject, but I will say this: We visited two faerie glens and in addition to being breathtakingly beautiful, when you crossed a certain unseen threshold, you could feel a bright, sparkly vibratory energy--kind of like the effervescent quality of Champagne--that was, well--enchanting.

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The glassy-smooth lake in County Sligo where the boat captain read Yeats' poetry to us as we delighted in the tranquility of our environment

As each day progressed, the group became more and more acutely aware of the energies of the landscape—the trees, the plants, animals, even the insect life. It became easy to feel into and receive the welcoming of the natural world, and even communicate with the non-human entities we encountered as we walked through dense forests, including one whose floor was covered in bluebells; took a boat ride on a glassy-smooth lake while the captain read Yeats’ poetry aloud; threw ourselves down on spongy grass turf softer than a mattress on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic, and visited a rugged coastline that rivaled Big Sur.

What became patently obvious is that the more we open up and align with the energies of the natural world, the more we feel ourselves to be an inextricable link in a vast web of livingness. When we relate to the outer world from this place of recognizing our essential unity with All That Is, the less we have any inclination to do anything that would cause harm to our environment and the beings that populate it. Yes, we still have to eat, and survival depends upon life consuming life, but when so rooted, we do it with respect and gratitude for the gifts we are receiving.

We are also more inclined to seek out gentle plant remedies, following our inner directives that respond to the subtle energies and information of the plant kingdom. We learn to trust the messages that we receive from our plant friends.

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As time went by, the input from the senses became intensified as well. One trip to the Irish Sea, where we visited Bride’s Well, was for me, spectacularly auditory, an experience that I tried to capture in a poem:

The Irish Sea
Whoosh, whirr, swish, swoosh…
Words fail to capture
This aural immersion.
 
The maestro’s baton lifts,
And an avalanche of sound
From a breaking wave
Sweeps diagonally to the right
Across my auditory landscape
Like a bold stroke
From a Sumi painter’s brush
Across a blank canvas.
 
Moon magnetism
Meets vast body of water
Meets rocky beach.
Caressing, cleansing, soothing.
Sighing relief.
 
A sea of sound.
Submersed in sound,
Every cell recognizing
Its birth mother
And rhythmically
Echoing her name.
 
Tasting sound.
Feeling sound.
Sound as lover,
Crooning endearments.
 
The ocean that I am
Responds with its own heartbeat.
Harmonic inhale and exhale,
Breath of life
Aligned with cosmic forces.

Body gone,
Only sound.
The watery symphony
Disappearing me.
 
The sea is eternally orchestrating
This sublime concert.
Just find a front-row seat,
Relax and really listen.

Next: The Heart's Calling #3: Lessons from Ireland

Our circle in the meditation room at Knockrose Garden in County Wicklow