Ireland

It hits you hard and settles in your soul

Up until last year, my husband thought an Irish goodbye meant to say goodbye to everyone at the party before you left. Imagine how long that took at a Riley family party - 10 brothers & sisters, their spouses, their kids, and sometimes their grandkids. Exhausted, I would have to go find him and say, "If we don't go now, I'm going to cry." Even though he now understands the Irish goodbye (leaving without saying goodbye to anyone), he still tries to say goodbye. My mother-in-law was an expert in Irish goodbyes.

I recently said an Irish goodbye I didn’t want to say, to the people and place I spent twelve emotional days with. I didn’t want to say goodbye; I wanted to stay. Why emotional? Well, you can’t help but be in awe, in amazement, swell with happiness and friendship, create meaningful bonds with strangers-no-more, feel the heaviness of the stories of this rugged land and people while simultaneously joining in with the laughter and song, the cheer, the beer.

Irish lineage or not (I’m 70% England, 28% Celtic & Gaelic), you feel at home. It feels like coming home - familiar, but different because of all the years your ancestral soul was away.

The wonderful women in the found poetry workshop were like Irish thoroughbreds, fast out of the gate, creating every minute, as if there was a race to the finish.

Poem by Julie Cohoon

Starting from scratch, the women quickly discovered how easy it was to find words that carried meaning for them. The poems practically created themselves. And oh, were they beautiful, so personal and meaningful, honest, raw, and sometimes just for fun.

Poem by Colette Shepherd

I believe one of the reasons for the success of this workshop was the history and landscape we were immersed in, thanks to the amazing waterfront retreat location and the people who worked and welcomed us at Essence of Mulranny/Mulranny Arts, plus our native tour guide, Colum Ginnelly. He didn’t just show us around; he told us the history and stories of the places we visited, from the sheep shearer working at his farm that morning to the mid-19th century famine walk through the majestic Connemara landscape, home to a vast expanse of mountains, bogs, heathland and lakes.

The beauty of the landscape calls you out beyond the small rooms
of your mind into the great cathedral of the earth.
John O’Donohue

Connemara and the famine walk trail

Like many, I am a reader and admirer of mystic, poet and philosopher John O’Donohue. I asked if we could visit the local pub he used to frequent. I wanted to be in the same space he had been. His friend, David Whyte, wrote a beautiful tribute poem, Mameem, to John after his early death.The last stanza is:

Admit that once you have got up
from your chair and opened the door,
once you have walked out into the clean air
toward that edge and taken the path up high
beyond the ordinary you have become
the privileged and the pilgrim,
the one who will tell the story
and the one, coming back
from the mountain
who helped to make it

There is so much beauty in Ireland, the land, the people, and the history. The Irish didn’t have an easy time of it, but their fierce love of the land, storytelling, faith, and music held them together in spite of the troubles, the famine, the 1921 partition, and the Magdalene Laundries abuse.

This is not an attempt to send you there, just a comment on how it lands with me and so many others. In a way, for me, it feels like coming home. Add in O’Donohue’s writing and David Whyte, and it takes my heart and mind places I never knew of or expected. I think the women at my Found Poetry retreat would agree.

Have you been to Ireland? Do you want to go? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I guess that’s the Irish in me. Tell me a story. ☘️

Quotes of the Week

Nature is the direct expression of the divine imagination.
John O'Donohue

All through your life your soul takes care of you...your soul is alive and awakened, gathering, sheltering and guiding your ways and days in the world. In effect, your soul is your secret shelter.
John O'Donohue

The way you look at things is the most powerful force in shaping your life.
John O’Donohue

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away.
Lyrics and music Chauncey Olcott & George Graff, Jr.