6.7.12 Home at Last

I sought adventure. I sought mysticism. I sought spiritual enlightenment. I found it. Perhaps not to the full extent as I was hoping, nevertheless, I found glimpses of all of these. These aspects are made more prominent in the solitude of one’s own thoughts. I consistently had company which dulled my more mental or emotional experience of Ireland (don’t get me wrong- it was still fun!). Yet, her beauty and history, so abundantly spread out before me, gave an intoxicating appeal. Whether alone or in a group of twenty, I had no choice to breathe it all in…



I sought adventure. I found it, on a horses back alongside the beach that floods with the ocean’s water by late evening; in an ancient fort surrounded by stones of the past, and the fairies under my feet; on the sea, gliding and speeding through the waves, with salt water on my face, gliding toward the Silks. Upon the cobbled streets with liqueur in my glass and a grimace on my face.

I sought mysticism. I found it with the dialects of the people; lurking behind the white flowered tree; within the horses drawn carriage, or echoing in the breeze . I heard it in peace in the bird village as the bushes rustled around me. On the tongues of townsmen in pubs, on tours, in song. I found it within me, spewing forth from conversation to poetry. It littered the shelves of stores, but beyond materialism-it is in the heart of the town folk as both their history and their beliefs.


I found spiritual enlightenment. On the tops of rock formations–facing toward the mountains; upon the cliffs’ edge looking out onto one of God’s most beautiful landscapes. Amidst the waves. The trees. The rivers. I found it on the top of history’s once glorified castles, and in the spare moments of silence between others’ conversation. I found it in the connection of merely breathing in a land my ancestors called home.


Upon looking back, I said I expected “a communal atmosphere present” most, this I found as well. In Sneem, everyone new everyone and most were related. I found it in the morning sun as others personalized their “g’mornings.” I found it in the afternoon rain, when umbrellas, and coffee under them, were shared. I found it underneath the waning moon, when people huddled together to congratulate their people, or to escape the contemptuous midges.

Everything I sought and expected-I gained. However, as I reveled in the Irish lifestyle, it made me miss my own. My heart’s pang over the absence of my child was ever present-I stand as I stood before I took this great journey: if I could merge both lives, I could feel complete. Although I am happy to be in my child’s arms once more, I hear the calls of the Ireland, as Oisin did, beckoning me back to it’s emerald mountains, and it’s blue seas, and it’s misty countryside once more…


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