Ireland - November 2021 (7)

 

Bridge Street Bookshop & The Bridge Tavern, Wicklow Town

   The physical body is only meant to withstand a certain amount of sleeplessness, which varies on a person-to-person basis. Somewhere on the drive up to Wicklow Town for my brother to visit the amazing Bridge Street Bookstore there, I reached my limit. Instead of being excited to be visiting one of my favorite places in the whole world, I was sullen and quiet, back to brooding about how foolish I was being in trying to accomplish any of what this trip was about. And, probably more to the point, I was hangry. There was a glimmer of excitement in the thought of getting takeaway dinner at the Bridge Tavern, across from the bookstore, but there, my friends, is where the last of my pleasantness reserves ran out. We were told they were not offering takeaway, and this glitch in my plan was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.

   When I get in a mood such as the one I was ruminating in at this point, hangry, exhausted, vulnerable, I really like that I do have the decency to keep my mouth shut, knowing the foul things running around in my head are not constructive or helpful to myself, or anyone around me. I give them their space, acknowledge their perspective as valid, yet realize I do not have to agree with them or let them take over my words. So, while my lowered cognitive ability gave them an easier target to hit in my head, I knew that the main target I still needed to be aiming for was my stomach.

Brass Fox, Wicklow Town

   Luckily, you can't pick a bad place to eat in Wicklow, so after the disappointment of the Bridge Tavern not doing takeaway, we found the Brass Fox down on the quay. After placing our order, I knew I needed to take a minute to get out of the funk I was in.

   I walked down to the waterfront and the sunset bathed me in the reminders that no matter what, we live in a beautiful and simple world. Where the sun rises and sets every day, often offering us a gorgeous show in the process. I watched a large tanker vessel come into dock at the harbor and remembered the times I had walked out to the little lighthouse with my children and listened to the waves crash against the cement wall that protected the harbor from the brunt of the Atlantic's waves. The tanker also reminded me of my dear friend in Ireland who I was hoping to see on this trip. I felt like it was her way of saying welcome back to Wicklow and to Ireland. I was grateful the effect of these fifteen minutes standing and breathing on the quay were enough to buoy me back up to a respectable level of civility towards my brother, and myself. We picked up our food and I drove us back to the Meetings in Avoca where we had a quiet dinner in our room, and both were asleep by 9:00 pm. Well, I was at least.

   The rollercoaster ride of dealing with ourselves and our emotions is not something to be scoffed at or taken lightly. But we sometimes forget that we are the main creators of our track. I am grateful for the time I’ve taken to learn the mechanics of building my track as I go, and how to create a new one if I do not like the one I’m on or where it is taking me. Our thoughts are our most powerful tools, and the more we practice using them for the creation of good in our lives, the better we get at creating good lives, just like the entire rest of this journey.

Ireland- November 2021 (6)

Information posted by St. Kevin's Church Labyrinth

    Labyrinths have been used for over 4000 years as meditative tools for personal, psychological and spiritual transformation. They create a representation of the winding and unwinding of a thought or process for a person to contemplate anything, or nothing at all and still their mind. Being renewed after walking the labyrinth on the grounds of St. Kevin's Parish Church above the Glendalough Hermitage Center, I returned to the Upper Lake. We pulled into the parking lot, being recognized by the kind young man who was concurrently staffing the concession stand and the gate. It had grown visibly busier in the time it took us to leave and come back, and yet his positive attitude and friendliness was undeterred. It made me happy to know such a place had such a person as steward. The Labyrinth Stone on the sign above is at the visitor's center on display, but I did not visit it this trip.

Stone wall and 'seat' in Glendalough

    I began to walk the short distance back over to the Upper Lake, and instead found myself drawn to a low, circular stone wall enclosing a gravel area a few steps down into the earth. One of the stones jutted out enough for me to take a seat and I sat there with myself, once again surrounded by the deep energy of the place. I imagined the thousands of pilgrimages that had been taken to the site over the centuries, and was again struck by poignancy of having this sacred place be the first place on my journeys. I suppose we will be pilgrims of a different sort, pilgrims and stewards of our own spirituality. Sitting there, I also felt settle into myself the mantle which I would be wearing for each person on the journey. It is a responsibility that continues to this day, and probably always will, to grow and transform with deeper purpose and humility. There began the realization that so much will be up to me, yet it must also remain not about me at all. I asked for the support and help of those that had come before me, my ancestors, and their ancestors, and I felt the circle fill with their support and love. I cried in gratitude and thanked them, breathing deeper than I had all day. 

Walk to Upper Lake

    I knew it was getting time for us to check into our first place, so I finished up in the circle and walked the short distance back over to the Upper Lake. I enjoyed watching some ducks on the edge of the lake for a moment, and left an offering of a stone and a feather on the banks of the lake, a symbol of my gratitude for everything this place has been and continues to be for me. 

    It was around 2:30 by this time, so I returned to the car, where my brother was again dozing in the passenger seat. His patience during this trip becomes a real theme, for which I was constantly grateful. We decided to check into our accommodation for the night and then travel up to Wicklow and go to a bookstore where he had pre-purchased a few books, another theme. We drove the 15 minutes to the Meetings of the Waters, located where the Avonbeg and Avonmore rivers meet to form the Avoca River. I had emailed the property in our weeks leading up to the trip to let them know of my intention of staying with them when I traveled through with groups, and we were shown around the property by a lovely young lady whose name unfortunately escapes me at the moment and I failed to get written down. Nevertheless, she graciously showed us to our room and then proceeded to give us a tour of each room in the property since we happened to arrive before any other current guests. I am happy to say the place looks perfect for the tour, with many of the rooms overlooking the river out back. It also has a large back terrace and patio for people to relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery.

The Meetings in Avoca

    What most excited me, however, was the little tidbit of information our guide mentioned almost in passing. The surrounding area was very big for mining over the last century plus, although all mining activity has since ceased. Across the river were copper mines and I find it very exciting to think that copper veins run all under the ground in this area. Copper is perhaps best known for its conductivity, and I loved finding out that our first night in Ireland would be at a place that is amplifying the conduction of the energies that are being awoken. It was the perfect affirmation of my strong felt sense that this inn, which I had driven by many, many times when I lived in Wicklow, was the only place to stay to begin the journeys. I was delighted to feel like I was on the right track for the journey.

Ireland - November 2021 (5)

 

   I sat in the blessing of that morning in Bray and discovered that the cellphone store opened at 10. I did some work on my computer until we could drive over to the Three store, where I acquired my sim card and got my unbridled internet access (barring the nooks and crannies we found with no service high up in the hills or out in the boonies), meaning access to maps! And the ability to call people and places around the country, which came in handy many times. 

    The sim card cost €20, with the ability to top up (fill it back up) and is really the best option for people traveling and wanting wifi access outside of hotspot areas. With all the ground we were covering, I knew it was the only option for me. There was no way I wanted to pay international roaming and keep my US number while I was there. On the down side, anyone who texted or tried to get a hold of me on my US number while the Ireland sim card was in my phone had no way of leaving me a message. I'll have to look into using a forwarding message for my US number or something next time. Apologies to anyone who never heard back from a text during that time!

    With my newly functional cellphone, the first place I programmed into maps was the ancient monastic ruin of Glendalough, though I could've gotten there without it. Glendalough is a place that has always pulled at me, even from the first time I heard about it well before I ever came to Ireland. It is already populated with profound stories from my life, and now being the beginning place of the journeys, will undoubtedly gain many more.

    It was around 10:45 a.m. when we pulled up and walked onto the settlement ruins. I had an appointment at 11:30 at a nearby Hermitage Center, but wanted to reintroduce myself to the land before the appointment. Walking around the monastic settlement, I became aware of how good it felt to be back there. Familiar sites and lovely memories with friends and family are connected there for me, as well as a more ancient feeling of connection that will forever draw me back.

    After a short walk around the grounds, I realized I needed to stop by the Upper Lake first, as well. The Upper lake parking lot wasn’t busy when we arrived, and after accidently cutting off the vehicle that should have been in line in front of us, we payed for their admission into the car park, and made friends with the extremely pleasant young man tasked with watching the gate and having a card machine ready for all those who did not have a two euro coin to pay the gate. He was so kind, no matter the countless times we saw him run over from the little concession shop to assist someone at the gate who had gotten out of their car, wondering how they’ll get in without a coin. He told us we’d be welcomed back in without having to pay twice when I mentioned we had an appointment to run to, and he remembered us when we returned. My brother and I were both grateful to have been there on a day he was present.

    When we parked, I made a short trip to the lake, touching the sacred ground and waters. I had a moment to sit facing the sun, letting the light and the energy and the warmth of the place soak into me. The air hummed around me and I sat within a space separated from the physical world for a matter of moments, connecting. It was a deeply moving experience to allow everything of the past 48 hours to drift away and be completely present in these sacred energies. I knew it was aligning me for the entirety of the journey, and can still feel its resonance today. I sat in gratitude and peace, then thanking the worlds around me, got up and made my way back to the car to honor my appointment.

    My appointment was at the Glendalough Hermitage Center, to meet with Peggy, a wonderful caretaker and overseer of the space. She welcomed me in and showed me around the small hermitage center, complete with reading room, kitchen, and a gorgeous prayer room whose window seemed to welcome nature and the trees right into the room. We agreed that this may not be the correct place for what I was looking to do, because the spaces here, and single cottages behind, are more geared for the solo seeker to have a sacred place to be. She luckily did direct me to another place down the road, called the Tearmann Spiritual Center, however I was unable to reach someone that day to see it in person. 

    The main reason I had contacted Peggy at the Hermitage was not for accommodation, though. It was to see the labyrinth I heard was there. She told me, yes, there is a labyrinth next to the church right in back of the Hermitage, and I was told our groups would be welcomed to use it while we were there, and to just contact the church to let them know when we’d be stopping by. I thanked Peggy and left her at the Center to hike up a short path to the church and saw the low hedge labyrinth. My brother joined me and we marveled at the beauty of the area. Going within myself, I quietly walked the labyrinth's turning path, opening up this journey of discovery and beginning of the creation of the tours I hope to provide. In profound gratitude for the experience I was having and the experiences I was calling into form, I completed the labyrinth with a sense of stirring within my innerself. An awakening of something that had been patiently laying dormant, waiting for my awareness, attention and curation. It felt like welcoming home a dear old friend, while simultaneously meeting someone new who charges you with the electricity of possibility. I was charged with the energy of this land, and the intention of my purpose here. And although I hadn't slept in more than 24 hours, I felt alive.

Ireland- November 2021 (4)

    Coming to Bray in the darkness of that November morning served a dual purpose, one side purely psychological and the other purely functional. First, it was a familiar place for me to return when I was feeling exhausted and unsure, just like how I felt the first time I set foot in Ireland in 2015, a single mom with her two children, ages 11 and 7. And just like back in 2015, I visited the beach that reassured me with its gently crashing waves and helped me to settle into myself and make my next decisions from a place of renewed confidence, and excitement, even with my doubt still hissing, teeth bared, in my ear.

Esplanade Hotel in 2015

    I also walked over to the Esplanade Hotel, which seemed to be closed. If so, I hope someone can get it up and going again. It is such a beautiful old place with warming character, and it welcomed my kids and me when we were fresh into the country with too much stuff and just enough courage to be there. It felt natural to come back to this original place to start.

    Functionally speaking, Bray also had a cellphone store where I could buy a sim card for my phone.

    Remember, nothing in Ireland opens until 8 or 8:30 and many not until 10, which I assumed was the case with the cellphone store. So after watching the sunrise, yet still receiving that potent self-criticism for not booking an earlier flight so we wouldn't have to kill all this time, I decided to drive us to the Tesco grocery store in the hopes that they may have a sim card I could purchase. I worked on creating an alternative dialogue in my head, reminding myself about how things turn out as they're meant to, and everything was going to be fine, and oscillated successfully between the two trains of thought on the way. 

    When Tesco opened at 8, we went inside and I began to instantly feel even better being in the shop around the familiar products I had grown to love while I lived there. They did not have a sim card, but we picked up some gluten-free muffins and fruit for breakfast and waited for the adjoining Costa Coffee to open. Because coffee. 

Tesco Grocers in Bray

    Around this time in the morning, and it being a Tuesday, the local school children began walking to the nearby schools from the nearby neighborhoods, and we sat and enjoyed the beautiful bustle that seemed to instantaneously pop up around us. When we pulled in, the parking lot had only one other car in it, and no people to be seen. Then, in a few moments' time, it was teeming with the activity of morning rush. It made me think of the congruous nature with which life seems to flow in Ireland. Everyone seems to operate on the same page, albeit in their own unique ways. But all tapped into the hum of the day. All together a part of something bigger than themselves, creating a feeling of ease to the order of the day. I relished it, and sat gratefully in the car amidst its presence.

    The coffee shop opened at 8:30 and I entered with my laptop among the couple others who had lined up outside waiting for it to open. I loved how there was no presupposition for the employee to let people in early while she set up the tables and chairs in the patio space outside. The customers that were there just patiently waited. And were not cross when they were allowed to enter. It was the order of things. And again, that feeling of everyone was in it together.

    I was asked to give my information if I was sitting inside for the possibility of contact tracing if needs be, so I gave my name and email and ordered my coffee. I chose a table where I could still see the activities of the school kids hanging out before making their way to class. Each had on their school uniform and all had on the early morning hesitancy about having to go to school at all. On the patio, small groups would congregate and move on, making way for the next small group, like the water in the ocean coming from all over the sea to congregate together on the beach in wave after wave. And then eventually, they were all gone, and it was quiet. Just an occasional mom and small child walking to the Tesco, or person on their way to work. 

    After these moments, I couldn't hear that self-criticism anymore, even though I didn't notice it in the moment. All I felt in the moment was how pleased I was to be greeted by the everyday minutia of the morning. It was a warm reminder of my life when I lived in Wicklow, and of the synchronistic nature of life when we allow it. And now, with the gift of hindsight, I see it was again demonstrated to me how powerful our own thoughts are when we decide to switch trains.

Ireland- November 2021 (3)

The Green Line Flight

    Safe landing, and then… the darkness of the early morning sky seeped into my psyche and began to eat away at my joy of having arrived as we taxied down the runway. Doubt crept in and started whispering its incessant reasons why none of this was going to work out. And reminded me, as I realized nothing in Ireland opens until after 8:30, that I had already screwed up by booking the earlier flight when I knew I should’ve booked the later flight. It was just after 5 a.m. and the later flight would’ve put us there at 9:30 a.m. What were we going to do for two to three hours while we waited for the country to wake up? Here we were, barely begun, and I have already failed. I’ve let down my kids, who I had to leave to do this silly trip, I let down my family, and I’ve let down my brother, who is trusting me to have everything all figured out. I was deeply afraid of failing and it had me seized at the throat. I practiced taking deep breaths and flowed with the collection of other tired travelers through immigration and to the baggage claim, oscillating between this fear and the joy of being in Ireland that thankfully refused to leave me no matter how provoked the fear became.

    As I continued to breathe through the presence of this negative self-talk and fear, I thought about the process that brought me to this place, to see what I could learn. There was obviously a lesson here for me. That’s what I try to see moments when I am highly self-critical of myself as. Lessons for me to discern what it is in myself that is asking to be paid attention to and given love. Granted, much of the love-giving is done in retrospect, as the self-criticism in the moment can often be too overpowering to allow for much during that moment. While I was booking the flight for this trip back in the summer, when it seemed like a great idea to begin travel plans again, I asked my brother about what time he thought would be good to book the flight. He told me that daylight traveling is good, which is great advice and still informs much of the rest of my planning. He was also very quick to point out that I was the one who would be more qualified to pick the flight time, and it made no difference to him. Yet for some reason, I told myself that he was probably right, and I should trust that, not what I was feeling was right at the time. Flying in on the 9:30 am flight would have let me sleep on the plane, and then arrive after everything is up and functioning. I knew all of this within me but couldn’t call it to my thinking mind when I was making the decision. It did its best to inform me, by creating the feeling within me that booking the later flight would be good. But I blocked it, or ignored it, or distrusted it, and here we were.

    After we collected our baggage, just another thorn my negative self-talk could twist into my side, we walked to the car rental place, and the first sign of relief came through the agent there, called Anne. She helped shift my mood by being kind to me. She helped us sort the added insurance I thought was included in what I had already paid (another screw up on my part), and shared part of her life with me. Her story was inspiring and lifted my spirits. I left the counter smiling and feeling thankful she was put onto my path. It reminded me that the biggest part of this lesson I was once again in the process of learning is trust. Trusting the process. Trusting the journey. Trusting the decisions of the past are the ones that were meant to be made to create the opportunities and experiences of today for our biggest and highest growth. And we can see this if we are willing to stop and take a moment to reflect, and allow. Even if, upon retrospect, we can recognize the moments in time when a different decision would have maybe made things seemingly easier, there is still purpose and reason that those decisions were made the way they were. And we can trust in that if we choose. This journey is about remembering to choose trust.

    That dark Dublin morning, as we loaded our things into the little white Hyundai that was to be our transport for the next 10 days, I kept breathing. I kept remembering my process. I kept remembering to choose trust. And I drove us down to Bray, because it felt like the right thing to do. I drove us right to the place I first drove my children in 2015, because I was learning, at a different level, the same lesson I was learning back then. That along with the fear, with the negative self-talk, with the self-criticism, there still exists the inner voice of self-love, of compassion, of trust. And as they grow, the fear slinks away, to stay away longer and longer each time, coming back with less and less intensity. And able to be dispelled by a simple kind interaction.

 

Sunrise on Bray beach, with the moon

    I walked down to the beach, relishing in the sounds of the rounded stones beneath my feet. Nowhere sounds like Bray beach. My footfalls became an even, meditative beat, matching the ebb and flow of the waves giving good morning kisses to the beach as the sun slowly made its ascent, infusing the world with gentle shades of color. The moon, a slivered, waning crescent, sat in the sky, welcoming me as it had back in 2015. I could feel the land from this empty early-morning beach, and I knew I was where I was meant to be.

Ireland- November 2021 (2)

 

(How) My luggage (felt)

    I used to know, for a brief moment, how to pack light. And I went to Thailand. Apparently though, not being able to travel for two years puts a person right back in their old habits, because to say I overpacked for this eleven-day journey in Ireland is an understatement. However, in my defense, I never felt like I was going on a vacation to relax and hang out. I was going on a mission, and this mission had necessary gear. Like books, notebooks, card decks, and yes, rocks and crystals. All of which are much heavier than your basic vacation supplies. And then the normal items on top of all that. It was the unnormal non-mission-related additions that I could’ve left behind. Things that I thought I could do while there was nothing else to do or while my brother was driving. Little did I know, neither of those two things were going to happen. So, the needlepoint, the chainmail materials (which I almost lost on the way back because I put them in my carry-on), the unrelated books, the sketchbook and watercolors, all could’ve stayed at home. Point taken!

    So, instead of being a svelte traveler, my journey began with me hauling all this weight on the Amtrak from Springfield to Chicago, all through Chicago, on and off two el stops and 3 trains, and through O'Hare. It was great, and I didn’t feel like a fool at all. Neither did I berate myself on the inside for being this fool that overpacked like a fool. Okay, I did all that. But I also reminded myself that this is how we learn! My brother’s oh-so gracious attitude that he was carrying everything he packed, so I got to do the same, was even welcomed. I knew I had done this to myself, and it would help me remember to not do it again. So, by the time his attitude changed, and he wanted to help, I turned it down. This was my growth, by god, and no one was getting in the way of it. This was shaping up to be an epic trip already, and we hadn’t even left the state!

    Needless to say, I couldn’t have been happier when we finally got to the check-in at O'Hare and I could offload my big bag (sorry O'Hare workers, I’m a work-in-progress). My brother and I were double-masked this whole time, and we had all our necessary Covid-era paperwork, so we moved through security and made it to our gate in time to board. Departure was on-time, at 5:05pm CST, which would get us into Dublin at 5:15am GMT. 

 

    I had the window seat on the way over, which I took full advantage of. We settled in for the flight, having texted our see-you-laters to family and me working to stay calm that we were on a plane in the middle of a global pandemic. I will say, the lengths Aer Lingus went to make sure their flights are as safe as they can be from Covid transmission made me feel much better about the whole flight. They instituted an air filtration system that recycles the air around each aisle of seats, so all the air in the cabin gets recycled and filtered every two or three minutes. Brilliant.

    One highlight of the flight came for me while we were flying over the Atlantic, just south of Greenland. I looked out the darkened window and noticed a slight, horizontal glow that was beginning in the sky. I was thrilled when it began to dawn on me that it wasn’t the sunrise, but the Northern Lights! 

Northern Lights from the plane window

    I watched the beautiful show they put on for our flight the rest of the way, and couldn’t help but read this beautiful display as a good sign for the journey. I think I read it right...

Ireland- November 2021 (1)

    There will not be a day that goes by that I am not grateful for the journey I got to take with my brother in pursuit of the path I will someday lead people on through Ireland, as they do their own inner work and embark on many of their own inner journeys along the way. I have decided to share the journey I took with my brother here. Enjoy. 

    The pandemic affected everyone, and still affects us all in some way, that much is undisputable. During lockdown, I was blessed to be involved in a pursuit that benefitted from the increased time for individualized focus. I finished my Psychology degree, graduating summa cum laude as the department's Outstanding Scholar and receiving awards for my research on intuition completed during my time there. I am incredibly grateful for that time and being able to focus on my studies while being stuck at the house. But I felt disoriented when I was finished. 20 years it took me to get this degree. Now what?

    Knowing I was taking a year away from the possibility of continuing school, I felt the stirrings in me to turn my focus to the creation of a dream that had been slowly growing over the past couple years. To utilize all this intuition research in practice by developing a program that people can implement and grow their own intuitive abilities. What might be the biggest piece of it all is the tours I want to take people on, to Ireland. Last summer, there was a brief glimpse of light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, with people able to be vaccinated, and travel opening up again. I took a leap of faith and invited my brother to take a trip to Ireland with me, so I could map the route I may possibly have started taking people on next year. I knew he was the right person to come with me, although there were many reasons why my logic disagreed. But I trusted, and asked him. He agreed, and I began to put the plan in motion. My parents would graciously help get my kids to and from school, so I booked our flights and started reserving rooms. It was a huge process and reminded me how much I enjoyed doing it. 

    Once again in my life, I was pushing myself to take a leap of faith and act upon something that seemed crazy in the moment, and especially crazier as the time to leave kept getting closer and closer, and that pandemic tunnel stretched out. But all the messages in my life urged me, strongly and without ambiguity, to move forward with this plan. Like the poem at my feet the morning I left. So, I did. And I still am. I am realizing, too, that the telling of it is as much a part of doing it as driving around the roads of Ireland. So, I will keep telling until the story is told.

Third time's the charm...and Welcome to Beltany Wellness

The Beltany Stone Circle                                          Image by Mark McGaughey

    The Beltany Stone Circle exists in County Donegal, and it was there that I received the seed of what has now grown into a sprout. I didn't know it at the time, but my profound experience there in 2015 would go on to shape the trajectory of my life in transformative ways. It is why I decided to offer my services under the name Beltany Wellness, also amused by the familiar initials. :) I am on course to offer spiritual journeys through Ireland to those wanting to learn more about their intuitive selves within the safe space of a sacred container, created for healing and with love. I've learned this was my path over the last few years while doing my own personal transformative inner work through the practice of Shamanic Breathwork. In January of 2021, I completed my Facilitator Training to be a Licensed Practitioner of Shamanic Breathwork and I hope to complete my Master Facilitator Training in January of 2022, both through the Aahara Spiritual Community of Venus Rising right here in Springfield.

    And now, I am in the final preparations of returning to Ireland for my third time. There is a new sense of nervousness within, gently held by a newly-deeper sense of trust. I am not stepping off the final precipice of this vision-made-reality, with this trip, but I am taking great, big strides closer to the edge. The precipice will be the first tour I lead, tentatively set for June 2022, although something tells me it might take a little longer to get all my ducks in a row. However, I have been known to surprise myself by what I can get done when I focus my attention. That being said, this current trip for which I depart on All Saint's Day is an anchoring of the route that I will lead folks on. I hope to take photos AND share them. Lol Because I hope to allow myself to share this process with those that may one day feel called to take the journey with me. As it is translated from the great teacher Lao Tzu, 

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

In light and love...

Guided by Grace

https://newirishart.com/irish-artists/kathleen-gormley-artist.htm

                                          


We had wanted to take a ferry to Clare Island. To see where Grace O'Malley heralded from. You know her? The Pirate Queen? Also known as Granuaile O'Malley?

If you don't, she's worth a look. Known as the most powerful woman in Ireland in the 14th century, her leadership and skills were known far and wide, along with her brave, adventurous undertakings on the sea.




One of my favorite stories of her is when she met Queen Elizabeth. Although her ships were responsible for taking many British ships, Queen Elizabeth agreed to meet with her. Grace showed she would not be intimidated by the court of Queen Elizabeth and even impressed the Queen. She did not believe the Queen was her queen, and famously did not curtsy when she met her. I think the Queen must've found it a bit refreshing to find another woman who maintained such self-assured power. This helped create an understanding between the two.

The meeting of Grace O'Malley and Queen Elizabeth I (a later illustration from Anthologia Hibernica, vol. 11, 1793)

But here's my favorite part, when she sneezed and was handed a handkerchief from one of the ladies in Queen Elizabeth's court, she blew her nose and threw the beautifully, handmade lace handkerchief into the fireplace, much to the outrage of the ladies of the court. When asked why she threw such a precious gift away, Grace explained than no one of good breeding would ever hold onto a dirty hankie. They would throw it away.

I just love the idea of her going into the court of the Queen and embodying her own convictions without intimidation, and eventually, getting what she went there for, the release of her sons, whose capture was the impetus for her visit to Elizabeth. Oh, and did I mention she was a red head? You can read more about the visit here:
Grace meets Elizabeth

So, I wanted to take my children, after having introduced them to the tales of this amazing woman, to her origination. Clare Island. Our plans already took us to Westport, for an amazing weekend seeing the brilliant students of Wicklow Montessori Primary School compete in the Ireland Robotics Lego League, the same competition they won two years later and again this year! (Go WMPS!!) After the competition, I decided to take full advantage of our locale on the west coast and called up the ferry out to Clare Island, only to be told the weather would be preventing them from offering rides that day. I was a bit crushed and decided to not be deterred in at least trying to see the island from the mainland. So, we hopped in the car and headed the rest of the way to the west coast, driving along R335.

There is not a road I love to drive better than the ones I drove in Ireland. Navigating the left side of the road, while shifting gears with my left hand, I am in heaven. It feels right to me. My brain is happy and I feel natural. So, along we went, with vistas and slopes of green, brown, and grey populating our drive. And by the looks of the map, lots of little towns to stop for gas, since I'd soon need it. The thin sliver of road, plenty wide for two abreast if you both hop up on the shoulder, curved us along the hillside until we were there. An undetermined spot to stop, the kids were coaxed out of the warm car only by my assurances that the hazy maybe-island in the foggy sea was in fact Clare Island. I'm still pretty sure it was. We said hello, I said more to Ms. O'Malley, and that was that. We hopped back in. Back to the drive where now the only destination was home, in Wicklow, by school's start on Monday. The day was Sunday and with google telling me it was only a four hour drive back to Wickow, I naturally chose a different route.

The scenery did not lessen in beauty, and proved a welcome distraction to the lowered needle of my gas gauge. We were treated to views that made me think of photos I had seen of Iceland, reminding me of a dear friend. And still the road went on. 12km. How far is that, I wondered. Will we make it? 

I dared one or two photos, scared my stopping would result in the expenditure of the last drops of fuel we had. Here's one.

And then the executive decisions began to trickle in. Each "town" we came to turned out to be little more than an intersection, and I had to begin to wonder, do we go back who-knows-how-many km to the town that I know had a petrol station (Westport), or go forward, to an unknown town that might have one? I knew one thing. Idling while I made my choice only wasted more petrol. And I always enjoy a new road, leading to a new place. So on we went.

I repeatedly thanked whatever was there to be thanked that our path went mainly downhill, and was absolutely convinced the car was running on my sheer will power and the grace of everything I was calling in to keep us running. Then, along came the town! Creggenbaun, the town I needed to have fueling options at. It was another intersection. Just. An. Intersection.

Creggenbaun

Another choice. Left took us probably further than we had petrol for, yet also to the town with guaranteed pumps. Right? Right took us to the town that was closer, yet was just as likely at this point to be two houses and a pub.

I went right. I made the kids be quiet in the back seat. I asked them to put all their energy into the car moving us along. The needle was well below the E. I dared one or two photos, scared my stopping would result in the expenditure of the last drops of fuel we had. The scenery was just too beautiful to not capture at least one shot.

 

As we drove along the beautiful fjord, I began to wonder how I'd handle running out of petrol with two young children, who do not have proper clothing for hiking in cold weather.

Then, coming around a bend, I see a man exiting a building literally next to the road.  He felt as if he was a guiding force in a blue jacket, so I gambled a stop to ask about fuel. He stood here, 

in front of this building leaning on the wall, and after a few tries, I was finally able to understand him. Mainly understand him. Sort of. I thought the gist was, keep driving and I'll come to the petrol pumps in Leenaun. "Can't miss 'em," he says. I sure hoped he was right, because the amount of fuel spent as I tried to decode his speech had us even further below the E line on the gauge.

Nonetheless, I was ecstatic! We had made it from the empty, expansive, wild coastline to a place that would provide us with what we needed to continue our journey home! And seeing another human who could possibly help if the car was to stop was a great relief, as well. We kept going, now on a national road, N59, and after many curves, and an awful lot of positive affirming, we saw the sign for Leenaun!

I assumed the town would start and an Applegreen or Texaco or Topaz would jump right into sight. An intersection (uh, oh) with a collection of buildings came and went, 

and then, so did the town. I made a U-turn that took with it most of my hope of not running out of petrol. But still, I thought, if the Irishman said there was a pump, maybe I missed it! Hmm, maybe you did too. Look again. Closer...

Here, let me help.

Look closely, in front of Hamilton's, the blue pub. Yup!









It took me coming from the other direction to notice them, and two motorcycles to be out of the way.




Now, I'm not quite sure how my incredibly low level of petrol somehow carried us all the way to these beautiful, hidden pumps, but I'm fairly sure it had to do with Irish magic, for which I remain ever grateful. 

These little pumps showed me something about not giving up, and continually searching for the truth in a garbled, yet genuine message delivered out of the kindness of a stranger's heart. If you haven't found the truth, just keep looking. 

Hamilton's was open, provided me fuel and water, and most likely a bag of crisps or popcorn for us to split, and will forever remain in my heart, as the place in Leenaun we barely made it to. And this whole adventure that was sparked by the spirit of an explorer, the strong, courageous, and dauntless Granuaile O'Malley, will continually fan the flames of the explorer in my soul, always willing to take that right turn, and voyage into the new.

cheers

...

There was a dream you were in last night and I don’t remember much about it. That is generally the way with my dreams. I know there are ways to get better at this. I haven’t tried yet. There were three of you or three main events that happened. I cant remember. and that’s the main thing I remember. I remember you being short and stout. Solid. And you were worried, so worried about something. I was helping to calm you, but you kept losing me, or I kept going away, drifting away. 

I am quite sure this dream was a result of reading your posts on the website yesterday. I do continuously think about you. And i know I always will. And I am perfectly fine with that and have been for along time.

I am at peace with loving you. I have realized and acknowledged a deeper sense of myself, where I can love someone who doesn’t love me the same. And expect nothing from them in return. Something I would claim I did, when the truth was it was what I wanted to be able to do, and couldn’t. I have crested that wave where I needed some sort of validation from you. And I now can use this wisdom as a touchstone for so many other aspects of my life that deal with thinking I need outer validation to return feelings or beliefs I have about something. I am learning to do this. It’s much easier when I remember I have the wisdom so I can avoid getting wrapped up in feelings of inadequacy or low self-worth when I am rejected, no matter the form. Work promotions given to others, relationships that don’t pan out, struggles with my children, actually any disappointment that I can choose to see as something else entirely. As long as I remember to acknowledge the wisdom I have already learned through my experiences. That, in and of itself, is wisdom right there, too.

Begin the Finishing to Begin the Start

Happy New Year to you all! This year has begun powerfully and slowly for me, and I am excited to see all it will bring! Many blessings to you and your loved ones. Enjoy this year of Badassery and Mastery in anyway you chose. :)

Exactly one week in to this new year of badassery and mastery feels very symbolic for the day I picked work back up on my non-fiction book. I worked for 45 minutes and got through editing the first page. Maybe this wil be a little more work than I thought. Maybe it is not as close to being finished as I thought. Maybe I had to step away from it for as long as I did to allow for the passage of time and whatever newness in me that took that time to grow, to be ready to step back into the book and address its concepts and sentences with these new eyes and thoughts. I am optimistic about it. I have faith it will get done. Working on it today reminded me of working on it last fall, when I felt like I was doing something right and productive by spending my time steadily moving forward on its progression. Progress. Yes. And though it may not be for a while, it would also do me well to have faith that I will be able to recognize when it comes to a stopping point. When to call it done and walk away from the editing process. For I could see me possibly struggling with wanting to declare it done, just wanting to go over it ONE MORE TIME, just to MAKE SURE I didn't miss ANYTHING. So, I will also just go ahead and see myself contentedly submitting the finished draft to publishers, my friends, my family, and see the finished copy on the shelves of stores. I believe this can be done by me. I also believe this needs to be done by me. I am ready and willing to bring this book into being. It will continue to morph and coagulate until it is in the form it will take on those shelves and in the hands of my publisher. I can't tell you how relieved I am that I have chosen to once again give myself permission to begin work on this. I feel it gives me purpose. And that it a powerful thing, indeed.

slainte!

Lotus Bloom

Anytime I remember that one of the significant attributes of a lotus flower is the brilliance of the white petals that are nourished by and supported by the dark mud far below the surface of the water, I am again struck with a deep manner of profundity. I have always felt a resonance with the lotus flower, but off the cuff, it always seems due to its beautiful process of unfolding its many petals to create something magnificent resting on the water's surface. It isn't always reminiscent of what I found so striking about it tonight, of its clean, white petals shining pure and true after having risen from the muck and debris at the bottom of the lake. I easily draw a correlation to my life, as do many people to their own, I'm sure.

The lotus means many things, I had just forgotten that it also means rising from whatever dark mud you may find yourself in, and pushing yourself further in growth until you one day break the surface and bloom with the beautiful, pure, clean, white love you were always capable of. If you don't let go of the mud and rise above it, you will forever stay under the surface of your own potential, drowning without ever realizeing the blossom you could have been. Remember to humbly appreciate that without that muck, debris, and dark mud, your bloom would not be as strong, healthy or vibrant. We are stronger than the darkness that lies under our surface, not in spite of it, but inspired to rise from it. It nourishes our will to become something beautiful and light. It supports our growth by fueling our learning opportunities. And it remains constantly there, a reminder that no matter what sludge may exist within us, therein lies a fertile ground for the growth of our authentic beauty.

Brene Brown and The Anatomy of Trust

    I listened to Brene Brown's "Anatomy of Trust" video again today, after having first seen it maybe a couple yeas ago, and was once again reminded of the person I want to be. She breaks it down because after studying and researching trust, she came to the astute conclusion that trust does not hinge on just one aspect of a person's character, nor does it get received for just one characteristic. It is an assembly of many traits that to the degree someone is possessing or lacking said trait, can be a barometer to measure whether trust is there. She calls it Braving Trust.

    As I'm hearing her brilliantly and eloquently go over the components she found while researching this topic, I am mentally taking inventory within myself of the amount (some) of the ones I do okay in, and the ones (seems like a lot more) that I want to see myself do so much better on. And as I went through and saw the ones I want to get better on, I already could see how far I've come in my own growth. Because instead of becoming sad and depressed about how much I suck (or would've thought I sucked) I realize I am able to see these characteristics that have left me such room for improvement not through the filter of guilt, but instead through the filter of loving acknowledgement that has me on a path of positive change instead of dumping me harshly on a downward spiral of guilt and shame and self-loathing.

    I can see that this is a big difference in my ability to do anything about these things I want to improve in my life. I'm not saying there aren't striken moments on the path of positive change where I slip back into old ways of thinking about how useless I am, or how I fail at everything, or how unlovable I am, unreliable, untrustworthy, awful and ugly. And these moments are not fun and they hurt, but I can recognize my growth at how much more quickly I remind myself which path I want to be on. I keep it from putting me on the spiral downward by thinking about the path I want to be on, and therefore I find myself on it again. Our thoughts and the way we feel about them are the strongest magic we have in this life. It is thinking about being on this path of positivity that I can look at myself, and all my faults, and lovingly vow to continue to do my best everyday, no matter how varied that "best" is from day to day. Because one of the cornerstone points of Brene's talk is the importance of Braving Trust with ourselves. That is where it all begins. Here is the link to this wonderful talk by this insightful, thoughtful, loving soul. Thank you, Brene.

Brene Brown "The Anatomy of Trust"

Centered

There's been a lot of talk going on in places I see and hear talking happening that has a lot to do about femininity and masculinity, matriarchy and patriarchy, and the one word I generally have to offer on the subject is balance. This word continues to surface for me in my life, too. There is always a balance needed for anything to run smoothly, and our lives are no exception. I like the mental image of the wheel spinning. Think about it and then pick where you would prefer to spend most of your time while the wheel forever spins. Sitting on the outer edge, though this position may feel strong of conviction, only leaves you feeling whipped around, especially when the wheel seems to speed up. You have to hold on to things more tightly to keep from flying off and losing control. Like the saying, fly off the handle, instead it's fly off the wheel. Now think about sitting at the center, in balance with the forces of nature and gravity, all powers outside of your control, as the wheel spins. Think of a potter's wheel and a lump of clay to be molded into a bowl or a vase. If that clay is centered on the wheel, no matter how fast the wheel is turning, that clay is not going anywhere. It is in control of itself, purely based on it being centered on that wheel. But give it a nudge and knock it off balance, and no matter how well you think you anchor it to withstand the spinning of the wheel, it is guaranteed to eventually fly off the surface of the wheel, unable to control itself in the face of the forces at work. Now think again of the wheel of life that is our situations, issues, beliefs , and convictions. Choosing to sit from the balanced center of the wheel creates a place of much more control, no matter how fast the wheel might spin. Not control of the people or situations in your life necessarily, as most of them are out of our control anyway, but control of self. Like that lump of clay not being able to control gravity and physics, but being able to control itself when it is centered. We allow ourselves a greater ability to remain in control of our actions and operate from a higher level when we can remain in control of ourselves, no matter how quickly the wheel of events in our lives is turning. And it is that balance that needs to be reached with so much in our world today. Gender warfare included. There must be a love and support for the opposite gender from each of the sexes as we all continue to grow towards a balanced and peaceful world. Gender equality has come a long way in the last 50 years, and still has a long way to go, but coming from one side of the wheel, crossing through the center and going straight out onto the other side of the wheel will create just as much of an imbalance. So I hope that everyone can see that there is a balance needed, not retribution for past unbalances, if we are to all carry forward from our highest place within ourselves. Brotherhood Sisterhood. There's room in the center for us all.

Interpretation Nation

Facebook gave me inspiration for tonight. There is a group I follow called The Smart Witch and I simply love all their posts. There was an image that read, If you feel like you don't fit in, in this world, it is because you are here to help create a new one. I know I've heard this before and I like the meaning behind it. It is in keeping with, the 'Be the change you wish to see in the world' idea, in my opinion, only without the direct command for action. I hear it saying that if you do not feel at home in your life, then create the life you need, to feel at home. I used to only read the saying about not fitting in as a way to inspire people to want to step up and help create a better world, a kinder, more compassionate, more understanding and loving world for us all to live in. But now it has dawned on me, perhaps from more perspective? or something, I now also look at it and interpret it in another possible way. What about those who want to live in a crueler, more dispassionate, and misunderstood tragic world? Who am I to say that this saying can hold no truth for them? I may not like it, but many profound sayings we hear in the world, when distilled down to the basics of what they're saying, can go either way. Good or evil. I can now see someone with a completely opposite moral compass as me stating this very same concept with as much definitiy as I did with my beliefs plugged into it, and the thing of it is, that person would not be one bit wrong in his or her's interpretation of the saying. It is something to always try and remember. Words and sayings are only as good as their interpretation. I haven't felt that I fit in for a long time, so I am all on board for helping to create a new world! That first one that I mentioned  {I will be flying to the left}

I am also typing this post on a keyboard I just got for my iPad, and I quite like it. It is by Favormates, but it doesn't have as strong of a case that I was looking for, to keep the iPad itself safe. So I may try another one down the line. Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a comment below about what you think of room for interpretation that is not in-line with your own.

Cheers

Quiet Courage

I found this quote earlier, after trying to reflect on a quality others have said they see in me that I often do not. I often feel afraid and cowardly, thinking there are so many more actions I could be taking to courageously stride toward my goals, my dreams. But maybe this quote can shed a little light for me. Maybe the continued belief in my dream, no matter how weak at times, is a true form of courage I do have. I heard earlier today on a Ted talk that sometimes the bigger actions of our lives, changing careers, changing a relationship, deciding to move, are the actions that are big enough they seem to propel themselves on their own energy. There is definite courage in making any of these choices, but the choices themselves seem to help bring out a courage we didn't even know we had, purely out of the action behind them.  However, it is the smaller, daily actions that we can choose which require a deeper sense of courage in ourselves. The little things every day that add up over time, like deciding to change in the ways we can at present, to continuously keep becoming the person we most want to be. To continue striving towards being the best versions of ourselves, no matter how many times we fuck up and don't accomplish as much as we would have liked to on any given day. Giving ourselves the acknowledgement that some days just aren't going to be what we think our best should be, but we still choose to try again, and again. This choice, to continue striving towards a dream, towards growth, towards the continual betterment of ourselves while loving ourselves for the perfect beings we are in the present, this choice is the choice of the courageous. "I will try again tomorrow."

Side Tracked

It's just so easy to get sidetracked and despondent about getting sidetracked and begin to wonder what the hell I'm even doing it for because no one is ever going to read it anyway and I should be doing more meaningful things with my life, like working a steady nine to five to get off my parent's assistance and stop being a drain on those around me and stop selfishly making my life be all about my dreams and my aspirations. When these thoughts claw their way up into my conscious mind, I always try to take the time and diligence to put them lovingly back down where they belong. Bitching and moaning from the side-room where I don't have to acquiesce any power over to them. They sure do like to flex their volume sometimes, though.

When is a dream too much of a dream? Is there a point where it just becomes too foolish? Or is that when it really becomes a test of faith? When I feel utterly ridiculous talking to others about it because I still have no idea in the Universe how this dream is going to become a reality, is that when it's time to say enough is enough and retire back into the little life of the human who gets her shit together and stops dreaming such insane notions and begins to focus on realistic outcomes whose steps can be carefully and safely plotted out like any of a thousand trips to the grocery store for a loaf of bread?

I've never been known to choose the safe path over the desired path. Sometimes they are just one in the same. But sometimes, sometimes they are not. Sometimes they aren't even on the same map. And I feel so alone. With only those around me who cast scornful looks and reek of disdain for my foolhardy notions of following a path that is unmappable and unpredictable and there I am, vulnerable. Not sure if I really want to travel this path anymore, but certain that I do. Just a little more courage, Becky. Just a little more strength. There is a world of your dreams and you know it's not Here. Just as a baby, who dearly loves the womb in which it grew, knows the journey goes on from that womb and staying there would only impede further growth.

I don't know how many times I've re birthed versions of myself so far this life, but I can tell you each one I was willing and thankful for all it brought me, and continues to do so. Let the despondency fuck off. Let the side of the track still be as useful to me as being on it, for if it is the way I operate, may it also be the way I get shit done. I have these dreams. I have these goals. And no authentic part of me wants to give them up or walk away from them because I'm afraid. I'll take that fear right on through with me. Because that's the only way I'll stop the dream, when it is my reality.

A Poem of (Possible) Blog Return

Oh so long I've been gone
And yet now I am back
Here to fill in the blanks
And repair the cracks

Ne'er has it left me
Nor e'er e'en gone far
But stayed right here near to me
Gently held in my heart

For this grand epic tale
Once a fledgling and small
Keeps maturing and growing
To be one of the best told of all

Tis said the novel takes longer
Than one could e'er realize
But I'm here tenacious and patient
Securing this dream ne'er dies

That was the poetic version of the things I write on here when I haven't added a new post for awhile...

The good news is work on the book has been moving along well. The less good, for this blog at least, news is that I have discovered if  I talk about it much, I don't work on it as much. I don't know if that goes for blog posts, but if it does, there will continue to be a drought of them until there is the next big announcement. (Like the first draft being finished and ready to be sent for proofreading!)

Hope all is well for all of you (aka Dad) ;) Much love!!

cheers