So here we are, once again well into that Greatest ‘Pre-Season’ of Them All.

You know the one – it shows up earlier each year and is unavoidable in shopping malls and retail outlets everywhere. Even at home, we’re assaulted whenever we turn on the television. There’s no escaping it – Christmas is Coming … let the shopping begin!

I saw my first Christmas tree in September. By our Canadian Thanksgiving in the second week of October, more signs had surfaced. By Halloween Week, with both Halloween and Christmas stuff to choose from everywhere, I could be pagan or Christian … or better, from a commercial perspective – I could be both!

Sometime in the last ten years, the advent of the season I used to love slowly shifted to a time of resentment and malaise that hit earlier, and harder, with each successive year. The relentlessly expanding commercial crush of Christmas had me working harder and harder to play Santa while feeling increasingly more like Scrooge.

As my distaste for the season grew, my reaction during the Christmas advent was, at first, a renewed focus on the ‘Reason for the Season’ as it’s often so annoyingly labelled. But a funny thing happened – delving more into the origins of Christmas, its Christian aspects gradually ceased to hold significance for me. I was drawn instead toward its natural, pre-Christian roots …

Winter Solstice!

The shortest day of the year, which marks the return of the sun, has been celebrated through the ages by a wide variety of cultures all around the globe. Both ancient Europeans and Native Americans had winter solstice rites. So did Iran, Pakistan, Tibet and China, to name just a few. Many of these celebrations continue today.

Winter Solstice can be celebrated by anyone, regardless of religion (or lack thereof). Modern celebrations might well include familiar elements of an old-fashioned Christmas – the tree, holly and ivy, the red-and-green, a Yule log – because many of these things originated from pre-Christian celebrations. But they can be completely different too, open to individual interpretation and practice. If religious, include that element. If not, leave it out. Simple!

The only thing missing from a Winter Solstice celebration is the irksome and unrelenting commercial aspect that few would miss and most would welcome.

One of the more notable solstice celebrations is the crowds that gather each year at the Celtic site of Newgrange in Ireland to observe the sunrise between the 19th and the 23rd of December. At dawn, a shaft of sunlight shines through the roof box over the entrance, penetrates the passage and lights up the chamber, an event that lasts 17 minutes.

Festivals on the eve or night of the Winter Solstice are taking hold in many cities and they’re growing each year. Here in Canada, there are large outdoor street celebrations in Vancouver and Toronto (Kensington Market).

And when it’s Winter Solstice in one hemisphere, it’s Summer Solstice in the other – a whole other reason to celebrate!

Whether celebrated as well as, or instead of, Christmas, what a perfect opportunity for the world to put aside divisive beliefs and come together to celebrate as one.

As someone very famous once sang, Imagine!

Though you’d be hard-pressed to tell from looking at my holiday decorations, I no longer celebrate Christmas – it’s Winter Solstice for me. I haven’t yet moved completely past the commercial obligations of the season due to the expectations that our society has firmly embedded in my children (for whom it’s still Christmas) but I’m making progress. I feel much more at peace with the season since I’ve shifted to celebrating the return of the light.

And, echoing that famous song once more, I hope someday you’ll join me …

Una canzone che parla del luogo che sono andata a visitare più o meno un mese fa in Irlanda. Che dire? Mi è rimasto talmente impresso che quando l’ho sentita ho pensato che chi l’ha scritta ha davvero colto quale suggestione riesca a trasmettere questo posto. Della canzone, che originariamente credo sia dei Clannad, esiste anche una versione di Celtic Woman.

NEWGRANGE
There is a place on the east
Mysterious ring, a Magical Ring of Stones
The druids have lived there once they said,
forgotten is the race that no-one knows.

Chorus:
Rum de rum ‘rud a derimo
Rum de rum ‘rud a derimo

The circled tomb of a different age
Secret lines carved on ancient stone.
Heroic Kings laid down to rest
Forgotten is the race that no-one knows.

Wait for the sun on a winter’s day
and a beam of light shines across the floor.
Mysterious ring, a Magical Ring.
But forgotten is the race that no-one knows.

Come nella bellissima canzone dei Modena City Ramblers, sono tornata in Irlanda. Non credevo ci avrei rimesso piede così presto…tutto grazie alla sorpresa che Francesco, il mio ragazzo, ha deciso di farmi per i nostri otto anni. Una sorpresa che é giunta ancora più dolce perché arrivata in un momento personale un po’ difficile, ed è stata come un balsamo per il mio animo.

Dublino mi è sembrata casa, non appena sono arrivata all’aeroporto. L’esperienza di due anni fa mi ha permesso di muovermi abbastanza agevolmente con i mezzi di trasporto, sapendo che autobus prendere e che tipo di abbonamento fare per i giorni successivi (il Rambler…anche se non permette di prendere il tram). C’era il cielo coperto e il vento, ma quasi subito è uscito il sole, e come accade in Irlanda, il verde dei prati si accende come fossero tappeti di smeraldo non appena la sua luce li accarezza.

Dall’aeroporto quasi tutti i bus vanno in centro città, anche se è meglio prendere la linea Airlink, che è più rapida. Se invece si preferisce vedere un po’ di sobborghi di Dublino meglio prendere la linea normale, ovvero gli autobus gialli. Io di solito prendevo il 16. Lo consiglio per chi arriva per la prima volta, per fare un viaggio un po’ più lungo che permette di farsi un’idea della vita del luogo, anche se da dietro i vetri di un autobus.

Questa volta ho quasi sempre cenato nei pub, nello specifico da O’Neill, davanti all’ufficio del turismo, e da Gogarty, a Temple Bar. Il primo, essendo un self service, potrebbe creare qualche problema di spaesamento. L’ho trovato anche un po’ troppo caotico, e non ho apprezzato molto il piatto che mi hanno preparato (spezzatino cotto nella Guiness…ma erano quasi tutte patate, i pezzi di carne erano praticamente inesistenti, anche se quei pochi che ho trovato erano buoni). Da Gogarty invece mi sono trovata benissimo, ho mangiato un piatto di Fish & Chips (anche se non credo siano quelli classici che danno per strada) e il merluzzo in pastella era buonissimo, così come le patate, e poi un Big Seafood Plate con verdure crude, davvero delizioso: gamberetti e salmone freschissimi, e un tortino particolare dove, avvolti nel salmone, c’erano gamberetti, salmone e calamari, insaporiti con un bel po’ d’aglio: forse un po’ troppo abbondante. La Guinness era fantastica in entrambi i luoghi.

Questa volta, essendo in albergo e non al Bed and Breakfast, facevo colazione in centro in un grazioso baretto vicino all’ufficio del turismo, in St. Andrew’s Street: full Irish, ovviamente, cameriere molto gentili e un ambiente tranquillo. Ho scoperto che il black pudding, che viene servito sempre insieme alla full Irish, non é molto entusiasmante. Come gusto sa di polpettone. Il té é buonissimo, da provare con il latte.

Ma veniamo alla cosa più bella che ho visto durante questa mia seconda visita. Sabato ho fatto un tour fuori porta a Newgrange e nella valle del Boyne. Il tempo é stato splendido, un vero e proprio dono dato che la stagione é quella che é. La valle del Boyne, dove si é svolta l’omonima battaglia, sembra quasi irreale da quanto é bella. C’erano alcuni momenti in cui pareva di avere davanti un dipinto, e non un paesaggio vero e tangibile. La prima sosta del bus é stata a Monasterboice, dove ci sono i resti un monastero e un cimitero famoso per le sue high crosses, sulle quali sono intagliate scene della Bibbia. Un luogo d’incanto. Tutto intorno, dolci colline e campagne verdissime piene di pecore, mucche e cavalli.

Monasterboice

Quindi, dopo un tragitto lungo la valle del Boyne, è spuntata tra le colline di velluto una costruzione che sembrava dominare lo spazio circostante, pur essendo parte integrante di esso: la passage tomb di Newgrange, antica di 5000 anni, luogo di riposo presumibilmente di principi, ma risalente ad un periodo talmente remoto da rendere impossibile sapere quale fosse la sua esatta funzione e quali riti si svolgessero all’interno. Qui, come si è scoperto di recente, il 21 dicembre il sole nascente spinge la sua luce attraverso l’apertura sino a colpire l’interno della camera sepolcrale. Una benedizione, una preghiera eterna di ringraziamento per la vita che nonostante tutto avanza sempre anche nel momento più buio, perché nell’inverno c’è la promessa della primavera, nella morte si comprende anche la vita, in un ciclo incessante che potrebbe essere uno dei significati delle numerose spirali allucinanti che decorano la tomba e i suoi corridoi. E’ possibile entrare nella tomba in piccoli gruppi, insieme alla guida. Un’esperienza che consiglio assolutamente, a patto che non soffriate di claustrofobia. Ci si stringe per passare attraverso il basso e stretto corridoio, per giungere alla camera sepolcrale, a forma di croce: il soffitto incastrato perfettamente in lastre di pietra sovrapposte domina le tre alcove con le cosiddette basin tombs, delle belle pietre lisce che ricordano appunto un bacile. La guida racconta la storia del luogo, e poi mostra cosa accade nel solstizio d’inverno. Le luci all’interno della tomba vengono spente, e si piomba nel buio totale. Poi, piano piano, dei faretti posizionati ad arte simulano la luce del primo giorno d’inverno, e si vede la striscia di luce camminare sul pavimento, e giungere sino alla tomba nel fondo. Si tratta di qualcosa che fa appello a delle sensazioni ormai dimenticate, ma che nonostante tutto fanno ancora parte di noi: la paura che il sole non torni più, il non percepire altro che buio, ed essere coscienti della propria fragilità di fronte a forze sconosciute, e poi, il miracolo: la vita c’è ancora, anche quando essa sembra essere finita. Divinità dai nomi perduti da secoli donano ancora la loro benedizione, tornano sebbene nessuno le riconosca più.

Il monumento, che è patrimonio dell’UNESCO, si può visitare solo passando dal Visitor Centre, dal quale partono più o meno ogni ora e mezzo dei pulmini che portano sul sito, che si trova a circa cinque minuti di viaggio. Nel centro c’è anche un museo interessante che spiega come la valle del Boyne sia stato punto d’inizio per la civiltà autoctona, grazie alla sua fertilità eccezionale. Da tenere d’occhio l’ora, in quanto la puntualità agli appuntamenti con i pulmini è importante per permettere a tutti di visitare il sito. All’ingresso del Visitor Centre danno dei bollini adesivi con scritta l’ora in cui ci si deve presentare al luogo da cui partono i mezzi. Nel frattempo si può visitare il museo. Si tratta comunque di un luogo da vedere con il bel tempo, perché con la pioggia diverrebbe alquanto difficile goderselo, essendo all’aperto per la maggior parte della visita. Piccola nota: la parte bianca della tomba è una ricostruzione recente, basata sugli studi del sito. Si tratta di pietre con una forte componente di quarzo.

Valle del Boyne

Newgrange: ingresso

Newgrange

Dopo la meraviglia di Newgrange, la tappa successiva è stata la collina di Tara, forse il luogo più sacro di tutta l’Irlanda. Qui si svolgeva la cerimonia di intronizzazione degli antichi re, qui il passato cosiddetto pagano dell’isola e la nuova religione si incontrarono per divenire un altro tipo di cultura. Tara è particolare. Non appena si arriva non si capisce cos’abbia di speciale questo luogo, che sembrerebbe solo una comune collina. Poi, quando ci si trova sopra il tumulo principale, dove si erge la Pietra del Destino, che si diceva ruggisse quando il legittimo re vi posava sopra la mano, si comprende perché questo luogo sia sacro. Sembra di abbracciare con lo sguardo tutta la terra d’Irlanda, e ci si sente profondamente soli di fronte ad un mistero, nonostante oggigiorno vi siano parecchi turisti che girano. Un silenzio dolce e pieno di significato, e un paesaggio impareggiabile. L’unico consiglio che do in questo caso è di stare attenti a dove si mettono i piedi, dato che le pecore pascolano liberamente sul sito e lasciano i loro ricordini ovunque. Un momento piacevole è stato anche quando, scesi dal bus, l’autista ci ha portato nel piccolo cottage di un vecchio signore, Michael: si trattava di una rivendita di libri vecchi e non, ma lo scopo era farci spiegare da questo simpatico personaggio la storia di Tara: l’anziano signore, dopo aver cantato una canzone tipica che parla di Tara, ha preso a mostrare delle diapositive con un vecchissimo proiettore, raccontando delle testimonianze scritte sulle leggende legate a Tara, della struttura del sito e dei reperti trovati. Davvero suggestivo, e ancora una volta mi sono stupita di come gli irlandesi riescano sempre a cantare nel bel mezzo di una conversazione come se fosse un commento naturale per quello di cui si sta parlando.

Tara: Liath Fàil

Tara: statua di san Patrizio

Come ho lasciato Dublino e l’Irlanda? Con la sensazione di essere tornata a casa, e la voglia di tornarci ancora per vedere molte altre cose, ad esempio le isole Aran, Galway, il Donegal. E’ una terra che ha moltissimo da offrire, anche se deve piacere il genere di bellezza che offre, ovviamente. Piccola nota: ci sono italiani ovunque! Ad un certo punto la cosa assumeva dei contorni addirittura comici, dato che si sentiva parlare italiano ad ogni angolo, in centro a Dublino, soprattutto a Temple Bar.

Per quanto riguarda i musei, sono tornata al National Museum, che ho dovuto percorrere in fretta e furia perché chiude alle 17 e ci sono arrivata alle 16.30. Poi sono andata a vedere il Wax Museum, che deve aver riaperto da poco, perché due anni fa lo avevano spostato e lo stavano riallestendo. Niente di che, è carina la sezione sulla storia d’Irlanda, la ‘time vault’, ma per il resto è dimenticabile. E’ che non avendo mai visto un museo delle cere, mi interessava farmi un’idea. Mi piacerebbe vedere anche le altre passage tombs, Dowth e Knowth, che sono sempre nei pressi di Newgrange.

Intanto, mi cullo nel ricordo di quello che ho visto in questo secondo viaggio nell’Isola di Smeraldo.

Inspiration for Tolken? If these are in England also, perhaps...Carved kerb stones at Newgrange

Today we went to Knowth and Newgrange, two large Neolithic tomb sites in the Boyne Valley. The sites are amazing; predating the Pyramids of Giza, they are from 3500-4000 BCE. Knowth has the largest collection of Neolithic art in Europe and has a passage of about 60 meters long. The variety of the art on the kerb stones surrounding the largest mound is great. Some of the symbols appear serpentine (interesting as there are no snakes in Ireland), perhaps this is a representation of the river? There are sun patterns, swirls, circles. The kerb stones are from hundreds of miles away and were floated on the bottoms of boats up the River Boyne, then rolled up hill to surround the mound. The mound likely took 60 years to build, with one passage oriented to the vernal equinox and the other to the autumnal equinox. At the end of the passage is a chamber which held the cremated remains of the ancestors of the people who worshiped here.
After a few hundred years, the people sealed up the passage, and there is evidence that they moved their worship to outside the passage. There are post holes that show that it is likely there was a wood henge (circle) in which the larger population worshiped. There are stones outside the passage that come from areas as far away as Galway (across the country), that may be pilgrimage offerings.
Knowth was only discovered by accident in the late 1800s, but had been used as a fort location for the Normans in about the 12th century (I think). The kerb stones had been covered completely, so no-one knew what it was for thousands of years.
Newgrange, which is another Neolithic passage tomb is another site in the Boyne Valley. Newgrange has some art, but many of the kerb stones are undecorated, whereas at Knowth, they all were decorated. It is likely that the exterior of Newgrange was white quartz, broken and jagged. Interspersed with the white were grey, round, riverwashed granite. The archaeologist who reconstructed the site did tests to determine that the wall was likely covered with the stones. Though, no-one knows for sure. Newgrange is significantly larger than Knowth, but I don’t remember the specifics of it. Apparently, there are many mounds all over Ireland that have not been excavated, due to funds and priority.

Neolithic Stone Carving

The passage at Newgrange is oriented to the winter solstice, and the interior has 3 areas where cremated remains were left. There is much carving in the areas where the remains were. Unfortunately, it was discovered at the end of the 18th century, and left open. Many people went in and left with actual items (beads, bones, etc), as well as the cremated remains on the soles of their shoes.

Carved kerb stone at Newgrange

This time last week I was on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic.  Actually, its possible that I was running around the airport in Dublin.  All the flights and all the time changes made the timeline go a bit fuzzy.  Either way, I was traveling, and I was not at all happy about it.

Jason and I spent 10 days overseas, visiting Dublin (and its surrounding countryside) and Rome.  It was a grand adventure, and the sort of vacation I never expected to be able to have, and a week later I am still a little bitter about having left the Roman sunshine and dry heat and chaos and ruins and three hour dinners.  (Also, I need a scooter.)

If you’ve come from Ravelry and you’re just here for the knitting, this post is for you.  I’m sure that more will follow that don’t talk about knitting at all, so if you’re not from Rav and you don’t care about the wool, your time will come.

I cast on for a sock (Cotty, in Waterlilies on 3IG Kells Sport merino) sitting on the runway at Dulles.  There are always questions about knitting on airplanes.  Within the US, on multiple airlines, I have never had an issue.  I had heard that Irish airlines and the airport in particular had a different way of seeing things, but Aer Lingus attendants, at least, seemed to not have any objections to my knitting on any of their flights the whole trip.  Its the airport in Dublin that’s a problem, but I’ll get in to that later.

I didn’t get terribly far before I decided that I should try to sleep on the plane.  It was only 9 or 10:00 my time, but we were going to be landing at something like 9 a.m. Irish time, and wouldn’t be able to check in to our hotel right away.  It seemed to be in my best interest to get a little sleep before I tromped all over the city.

By the time the hotel called at 1:00 (my body thought it was about 8 a.m. and it was going on about two hours of broken sleep), we had already had breakfast (who knew black pudding was actually good), walked to and around Merrion Square, discovered the Dublin drivers’ habit of parallel parking with their car facing any direction they fancied, found Trinity College and seen the Book of Kells (which was nothing compared to the Long Room in the library).

After a nap and further urban exploration, Jason, the sock and I shared a Guinness at The Brazen Head.

Guinness in Dublin is really, really good.  All of the things you hear about how its just better in Ireland are absolutely true.

I worked on the sock on the bus trip to Newgrange, which was spectactuar.

A group of about fifteen of us crammed inside, and even surrounded by strangers, the energy in the old passages gave me chills.  I could have sat and stared at the stones all afternoon, even in the rain and chill.  (I knew Ireland wasn’t going to be warm, but I underestimated how cool it actually was.)

I finished the leg of the sock on the way back to the city, where we saw sheep (who I wanted to play with):

And stopped at Monasterboice, a monastery founded in 521 AD that was home to some of the countries most highly regarded High Crosses.

After that, the sock was mostly put away until we got to Rome.  I brought it along for our Ghost Bus tour of the city, but was too engaged by what wa sgoing on to want to work on it (and that’s saying something).  I would have liked to have knit on the flight to Rome, but the security signs at the ticket desks very clearly said, “No Knitting Needles” right under the bits about how small bottles of liquids and gels must be in a quart sized Ziploc, and that guns and knives are not welcome  on board.  Clearly,  Irish airline security isn’t aware that a knitter without their knitting is more dangerous than the tiny sock needles they are forced to check in their luggage.

At any rate, I had a book with me, and the plane have televisions at each seat (unlike the plane we took from DC to Dublin), and I survived.

It was good that I survived because Rome was really, really wonderful and I am deeply committed to figuring out how I can live there.  Or at least live someplace that has the same energy as Rome (which I’m not sure is possible) since Jason tells me that its “really not his kind of place.”  (I will grant him that it is warm, and that it is difficult to get water at a restaurant without having to pay at least 3 euro for it.  Other than that, I really just can’t see what’s not to love.)

Very little knitting happened in Rome.  We did a lot of walking and a lot of exploring, and there wasn’t very much time to sit still.  The really wild part, though, was that when we had occasion to sit still, I was okay with it.  I didn’t feel like I had to be doing something with my hands, and I didn’t have that nagging feeling that sitting and waiting or standing in line was lost time.

The sock was in my bag the whole time, though, and it did visit the Colosseum:

The majority of that picture is of the area under the arena, where animals and slaves and Gladiators were held between matches.  The wooden floor at the top is a reconstruction of what the arena floor would have looked like, except that it would have been covered in sand.  The whole place completely blew my mind.

Rome had no qualms about my knitting needles, and in fact, I brought three sets on the plane.  One with the Cotty socks, one attached to a pair of plain vanilla socks that could easily worked on in lines, and a third set for a fresh cake of yarn in case I finished a project on the long trip home and felt compelled to start something new.

That all felt like a very good plan until we landed in Dublin to meet our connecting flight.  We had to pick up tickets at a customer service desk, clear customs, and then go back into the main departures area to get to our gate.  That meant clearing security all over again (the second of three times that day).  I was not a happy camper.  Not only did I face seven hours confined on an airplane without my knitting and with only half a book to finish, but I had all three sets of my favorite needles on my person, and I was just sure that security was going to take them away.  It was too late to find an envelope and postage and try to mail them home if that happened.  I started mentally taking stock of where things were.  The loose dpns were in my purse, and they were long and thin in a pouch with pens and all sorts of random things, and besides, they were bamboo and maybe they wouldn’t turn up.  The needles in the Cotty socks were in the socks, in my purse, and they were thicker, and there probably wasn’t much hope for those, except that again, they were bamboo and I’ve heard rumors (that I’m pretty sure aren’t true) that airport x-ray machines can’t pick those up.  The other needles were short circs, and they were in my backpack and were metal, and I was just positive those were going to be taken.

Except that they weren’t.  Everything went right on through without so much as a second glance.  Security was more alarmed by Jason’s umbrella than my contraband needles.  I knit on an off on the flight between Dublin and JFK, where our flight to Dulles was delayed.  I finished the sock waiting there, but by then my body thought it was 4 a.m. and that I had been awake since 7 a.m. and there was just no hope of casting on for the second.

I still don’t have pictures of the finished product (though I have started its mate), mostly because its been muggy and grey here since we got home so the light is bad, and I’ve been busy uploading trip photos to Flickr, and anyway, I can’t find my camera.

Pilgrimage: a journey of feet, heart, soul, spirit, touch, sight, taste and sound;

a journey of special meaning and exploration;

an outward journey and an inward exploration

CCC Reprint: Island Catholic News, April/May 2009, page 1

www.islandnet.com/~icn

Imagine this: your family came from Ireland or Scotland, or you feel a special connection to St. Patrick, St. Brigit or St. Columba; or you face a major decision point in your life.  Now visualize yourself this September walking in the steps of your ancestors or of one of these inspirational saints, letting the wisdom of the land seep into your consciousness, then enjoying great conversation during supper with a group of fellow-travellers.  This is how our Island Pilgrims pilgrimages work.

We start our annual Celtic journey at Heathrow airport near London as a small group (max 12 people) of strangers.  We travel in our passenger van through gentle landscapes full of history and wild areas that feed our imagination.  We visit sites that have connected their builders to the divine for many thousands of years, long before the Celts, long before Christianity.  We explore pre-Celtic and Celtic myth, mystery and history.

In architecture, art and legend we see how Christianity came into Ireland and Scotland in a way that respected existing culture and beliefs.  And some days we just relax, walk on the beach, enjoy music in a friendly pub, or just let the environment subtly change our way of seeing so that back-home problems transform into opportunities and difficult choices are simplified.  It happens to at least one of us every year!

This year’s highlights will include the sacred valley of the Boyne with its massive prehistoric Newgrange and Knowth monuments, the Celtic royal hill of Tara, and Monasterboice with its massive high crosses.

Moving west, we will contemplate the remarkable achievements of St. Brigit at her well in Kildare, then spend time in the large Clonmacmoise monastic site in its beautiful setting on the banks of the river Shannon, and enjoy peaceful time in the historic Nun’s church just a short walk up the road.

Our west coast time will be divided between Carrowmore, one of humanity’s oldest structures, and the area around Drumcliffe where William Butler Yeats wrote and is buried.  We’ll meet my favourite bishop at Killadeas, visit an oak-encircled ancient burial site, and take the tiny ferry to charming Devenish Island in Lough Erne.  In Glen Colum Cille we’ll walk the stone-age pilgrim path, start to learn the history of St. Columba, then follow his path to Derry.

Our days in north-east Ireland will focus on the story of St. Patrick, a truly fascinating character.  Then we take up again the journey of Columba across to Kilmartin and up the west coast to Scotland to tiny, wonderful Iona, a living community in the Celtic Christian tradition with a passionate focus on social justice.

For a touch of Romano-British history we’ll spend a night near Carlisle and Hadrian’s Wall, then have our final nights in peaceful Norfolk, contemplating the life of Julian of Norwich and the work of the Austin Friars at Clare Priory.

This is not a commercial tour.  We travel as equal pilgrims, each contributing to the pilgrim experience of the others, often in the most surprising and unplanned ways.  We stay at peaceful retreat houses and welcoming B&Bs, and each day we decide which of the many options we will chose for the next day, but always travel ready to follow the heart’s desire of the group.

This year, our eighth pilgrimage, we will meet at Heathrow early on September 12th and we will be back on October 3rd.  It is also possible to make the time a little shorter by joining us in Dublin or leaving the group in Glasgow.  Because there will be no pilgrimage in 2010, this year will be special, staying three nights in most of the focal points so that we will explore, enjoy and relax, rather than pack and unpack daily.  This also lets each pilgrim either participate with others, spend time quietly alone, or enjoy the local community independently.

These pilgrimages started accidently, when a participant in one of our Celtic Spirituality workshops aksed if I would lead a group to Ireland.  I did not have to think for even a second before answering enthusiastically!

Each year has been unique and wonderful, sometimes a totally new group of pilgrims, sometimes people back for a second or third time.

Whether, like me, you spent childhood years and many holidays in Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England, or this is your first visit to the Celtic lands, you will discover much about our heritage and about yourself.  To find our more about pilgrimage in general, and about this year’s Celtic pilgrimage, please email me (Vanessa) at islandpilgrim@canadac.com.  Visit www.canadac.com/celtic/celticv.html or call 1 250 414-0308, cell 250 415-9272.

CCC

I tried to call a woman near Carrick on Shannon. I’d been given her name by a friend but the one thing we never mastered were the phones. It was a phone booth on the street. I tried punching the number. I tried putting money in. I tried various buttons on the phone and only got the long distance operator who I couldn’t hear anyways for all of the traffic. So we never did see Bee, but then we didn’t pass through her area. Of course in retrospect, it was probably only a half hour from where we did drive.

Slieve League was past Killybegs, a small fishing town west of Donegal. We drove out and it was a meandering drive along or near part of the coast. This is tweed country; lots of sheeps and a few tweed shops that we stopped in, partially for directions. So we drove and drove and weren’t sure if we there so we asked a man, dressed in that classic Irish farmer attire of cap, tweed jacket, baggy pants and wellies In Ireland the standard greetings is “How are you doing?” This man was walking along the small village road. I believe there might have been a total of 20 cottages at most and it was at the end of nowhere. I don’t know if that was Killybegs or not. I think not but I don’t know what that village was called.

He said we were on the right road for Slieve League and as it turned out it was only about five minutes past that village, and dead ended there. We were high on cliffs and below was a long reddish sand beach. It was a long hike down the stairs and would have been a long sweat up. We didn’t go down as it was getting late in the day. We could see a couple of people sunbathing down there.

As we drove back we found the sign to the Bunglass Cliffs.  Since the guy at the tweed shop had mentioned them we decided to go check them out. I’m sure if my sister realized what we were getting into she would have run screaming.

We drove through a village as tiny as the one at Slieve League, passing dogs, goats and chickens all running about the road. We rounded a corner where the family working in their yard kind of stared at us like we were mad. Then began the ascent. I’ve lived in BC and Alberta all my life. We have mountains, the Rockies, and some mountain roads are treacherous switchbacks. This was something else.

At first it wasn’t too bad but then it wound higher and higher. And then we were on a hairpin where you looked across to the other side of the hairpin (about 75 feet away) with nothing but cliffs down the curve. My sister, who is terrified of heights, said not a word, breathing heavily and grasping the car door handle so tight I thought she’d take it off. I could hear it squeaking but didn’t dare look. And she was on the outside edge.

It was in fact fairly treacherous. I was only going about 5km and if we’d met someone coming the other direction, I’m not sure what we would have done as the road wasn’t big enough for two. Then there were the spot where suddenly we were looking straight at the sky. The car was at more than a 45 degree angle facing up. I had to take it on faith that there was road on the other side and crept over the edge. We didn’t stay up there very long. My sister was a bit too nervous and once you saw the view in a few moments (and the sheep) there wasn’t much else to do. However, the Bunglass Cliffs are the highest cliffs in all of Europe so my sister had a right to be nervous with the height. And I have to say my heart was beating a little fast on the way up. It was easier going down and a pretty good view.

Names like slieve, killy, kil, bally, carrow, bun all mean something specifically in Gaelic, such as hill or bay or mound or… I have no idea what Killybegs meant or Slieve League but there are a few place names that have the similar beginning.

Ireland 2007–Slieve League & Carrowmore

We then started beetling south to outside of Sligo. We wanted to do the Carrowmore passage tombs and thought we would go that far for the night and have a head start in the morning. Regretfully I saw nothing of Galway. We made an error this night by being far too late in travelling. It was dark by the time we ended up in the vicinity and I think we were near Lough Arrow (lough means lake) because there was coast on one side. But it was so dark we couldn’t see a B&B anywhere and finally found a small pub/tavern with rooms upstairs. It was dirty and cold (no heat), the shower didn’t work in my sister’s room and the rooms were so small we had to lift our suitcases over the bed. We did find a little restaurant farther in (if we’d known we could have checked that area for rooms) that had fairly good food. Many places did a combo course of appetizer and/or dessert plus a main course, so for 25 euros it was okay. The food was decent too but never that cheap in Ireland.

In the morning, Wednesday, we trotted off to Carrowmore and with the customary few wrong turns (though not many) found Carrowmore just as it was opening. It rained quite heavily while we were walking through the fields. These are small mounds or rings of rocks, and a few dolmen tombs. Not as impressive of Newgrange, still I found it interesting and the number of graves brought such a sense of time and history. We finished in under two hours, soaked to our knees, so we changed in the bathroom and then drove on. This was the wettest day we had in Ireland and we dropped Queen Maeve’s tomb from the walks as it would have been 45 minutes slogging through the rain.

Still, overcast sky and the wet gave very rich color to all of the photos.

I went to Newgrange on Sunday morning.  I arrived way to early in Dublin so I wandered around and got a cup of tea and chocolate twist at a coffee shop near Grafton Street.  I then went back to the pick-up spot of the shuttle that takes me to Newgrange and waited until it was time to leave.  I ended up meeting a fellow solo traveler (at least for this part of her trip) and we kept one another company on the shuttle bus and then hung out while we went to visit the actual site.

Newgrange is a megalitihic tomb; it’s the oldest one of its kind in all of Europe.  The age is estimated to be about 5000 years old, I think.  Anyway, we were dropped off at the visitor center where we watched a video and then toured the exhibit of the excavation of Newgrange as well as two other tombs similar to it within a couple of miles of it: Knowth and Dowth.  Knowth doesn’t open until Good Friday and Dowth isn’t part of the site, it can be visited independently but we didn’t have time to do that.

From the visitor center there is a bus that takes visitors to the tomb.  It was amazing to see and imagine that for thousands of years it was believed to be just a hill of grass, because it had been grown over.  Back in 1699 (ish) the farmer who owned it was walking by and saw the dirt caved in at a spot and then he saw the opening.  The thing that is cool about this is that it is lined up so that on and around the winter solstice the light shines in a hole in the wall to illuminate the tomb.  The rest of the year the tomb is pitch black but on those few days a year it gets illuminated for about 15 minutes in the morning from that beam of light.  They do a simulation while you’re in the tomb (it’s a bit of  tight, short path to enter) to give you an idea of what it’s like when it really happens.  Every year there’s a lottery (free) to win a ticket to visit Newgrange for the winter solstice and experience it for real.  I entered at the visitor’s center and I plan on entering frequently once I get home (you can do it on their website).  Of course, if it’s rainy and doesn’t happen, such is life.

After leaving Newgrange I walked around town a bit with Kristin and then we grabbed a drink and a bite to eat.  She had an early flight the next morning, so we parted a little after 8pm (the live music hadn’t started yet, but I didn’t want to stay by myself) and I headed back to my room.  On the plus side I got to ride the LUAS (tram that goes through Dublin city) to get to the pub near her hotel quickly.  It was just a five minute walk back though so I took my time and enjoyed the fresh air.

I was so tired and had an early morning planned for Monday so I just took a shower and went to bed.

During Paddy’s week, a friend of mine had an American friend over, who was doing the usual sight seeing thing. Being unemployed with not much going on, I tagged along to the trip to Newgrange. Now, I wasn’t expecting much. I’m not much for sight seeing in general – I’m happy to know about the history or significance of a sight, but going to see it doesn’t hold much excitement for me. But I was pleasantly surprised on this trip.

Newgrange is about an hour from Dublin, located in County Meath, most of the trip being up the M1, so easy to get to. You first arrive at the visitor’s centre, where there is a gift shop, viewing gallery and a coffee shop. You can only visit Newgrange with a guide, and the cost of the tour is a perfectly reasonable recession proof €6. We visited on a Friday lunchtime, which we thought would be quiet enough. Not so much, as we had to wait an hour for the next tour. I imagine it is much busier during the summer, when people don’t mind visiting an outdoor monument in the middle of nowhere. You’ve been warned.

There is a mini bus that takes people from the centre to the Newgrange monument, about 5 minutes away. You are greeted by the tour guide, who gives you a 10 minute history lesson of the monument and the Boyne valley. There is only one chamber in the massive mound, and there is a very narrow passageway to take you there.

Visiting Newgrange on a sunny March day

For those of you who don’t remember your Junior Cert. neolithic history, Newgrange is over 5,000 years old, making it older than Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid. Most of you will remember the Winter Solstice event that is central to the location of Newgrange. For 17 minutes, on the shortest day of the year, 21st December, the sun box that sits above the main entrance allows sunlight to penetrate the passageway and illuminate the chamber.

The guide will give a demonstration of the event, using a 100 W bulb, which she stresses is not anything like the real thing, but gives you an idea of what happens. There is an annual free lottery that decides who enters the chamber on 21st December, but if you won you’d want to be praying for clear skies – which unfortunately aren’t that common in Ireland in December!

So, last Sunday we finally made it to Ireland (neither one of us have ever been). We only had time for a brief stop in Dublin unfortunately, so we didn’t get to see much of the countryside, but at least we were there for St. Patrick’s Day.

We arrived on Sunday morning with a direct flight from Zurich. On the way to the hotel, we got a little lost. While we were consulting our map, we had our first experience with the famous Irish hospitality.  A man on the street walked up and kindly offered to see if he could help us find the hotel. Unfortunately, he was much nicer than he was knowledgeable of the city layout, because he definitely told us to go in the wrong direction. We eventually did find our hotel though, and after dropping off our bags, we went out to see the city.

Our main stops were Trinity College:

Dublin Castle:

Christ Church Cathedral:

On the second day, we did manage to get out of the city and visit the ancient passage tombs at Bru na Boinne. These are large tombs built before the pyramids of ancient Egypt. Every year, on the winter solstice, the sun shines through the opening passageway and illuminates the inside of the tomb.  You’re not allowed to take pictures of the inside of the tomb, but here are some shots of the exterior:

After getting back from the tomb at Newgrange, we spent the eveing in the Temple Bar district.

Our last day in Dublin was St. Patrick’s Day. We got off early and headed to the Guinness Museum to start the day off right with a pint of Guinness.

After the Guinness museum, it was off to watch the parade:

Once the parade was over, there was nothing left to do except enjoy the festivities at the countless pubs and bars scattered around the city. We had a great afternoon hanging out, drinking some  Guinness, and listening to the Irish music.  “Whiskey in the Jar” has been stuck in my head ever since we left:

You can see all of our pictures are here. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Newgrange este situat in Irlanda, pe domeniile contelui Meath, pe malul nordic al fluviului Boyne, la 8 km inspre vest de Drogheda si la 50 km de Dublin.

In 1699, persoanele care au descoperit Newgrange au crezut ca este vorba despre o pestera. Mai tarziu, s-a crezut ca este vorba de ansamblul funerar din primele secole ale crestinismului, ansamblul unde erau inmormantati regii celti din dinastia Tara, dar au existat si opinii care pledau pentru o copie indepartata a “mormintelor-stup” din Micene. In realitate, Newgrange dateaza cu mult inainte decat Micene, fiind chiar mai vechi decat Stonehenge sau decat piramidele. Izvoarele arheologice irlandeze prezinta Newgrange drept o asezare umana din zona Boyne, cand, de fapt, este vorba despre un cimitir megalitic, cu sistem de coridoare, care dateaza, probabil, de pe la mijlocul mileniului al III-lea i. Hr. Este un monument al unei societati foarte dezvoltate din epoca de piatra moderna.

Spre camera mortuara centrala, unde se gasesc trei firide, conduce un coridor lung de 16,7 m si lat de 0,9 m construit din cuburi imense de piatra. La intrare, inaltimea interioara a coridorului este de 1,5 m, iar in dreptul camerei, de doua ori pe atat. Camera mortuara si coridorul sunt acoperite cu un morman de pietre; conform estimarilor aceste pietre cantaresc in jur de 200.000 de tone. Constructia este izolata cu meticulozitate impotriva infiltratiilor cu apa, fiind ingradita de jur-imprejur cu pietre asezate pe muchie.

Newgrange a generat multe intrebari. De ce in acest mormant construit cu atata grija au fost pastrate doar cinci cadavre umane? Cum au fost transportate pana aici aceste cuburi uriase de piatra? E posibil ca acestea sa fi ajuns aici sub forma de aluviuni glaciare? Cat timp a durat constructia ca atare si cati oameni au muncit? Pe cateva cuburi de piatra se pot vedea diferite elemente ornamentale geometrice, iar acestea de ce sunt asezate in locurile in care in conditii normale nu pot fi vazute?

In schimb, anumite lucruri se cunosc cu precizie. Profesorul arheolog O’Kelly a dezlegat enigmele privind directionarea spre punctele cardinale:in ziua solstitiului de iarna, in zori, razele soarelui patrund de-a lungul coridorului si lumineaza camera mortuara. Cand a fost construit Newgrange, aceasta raza luminoasa era proiectata pe singura piatra ornamentala care se gaseste la capatul coridorului. Initial, intrarea era acoperita cu o placa din piatra, dar pentru razele soarelui a fost taiata o nisa pe acest acoperis, tocmai in punctul potrivit. Fenomenul poate fi observat in preajma solstitiului de iarna.

Des archéologues irlandais effectuant des fouilles dans une tombe datant de la fin de la préhistoire au nord de Dublin ont découvert des graffitis attribués à des “vandales” des temps anciens, a indiqué jeudi John Gormley, ministre irlandais de l’Environnement.

Les scientifiques travaillent depuis près de 40 ans pour découvrir les secrets de la tombe mégalithique de Knowth, dans le comté de Meath (est de l’Irlande), qui daterait d’environ 3.000 ans avant JC. John Gormley a révélé jeudi que les noms de 15 ou 16 “vandales” avaient été gravés dans les pierres de la tombe et avaient été traduits en utilisant des textes anciens. “Certaines choses ne changent jamais”, a-t-il relevé.

Knowth et plusieurs autres tombes similaires découvertes dans les alentours ont été construites à peu près à la même époque que le site mégalithique de Stonehenge dans le sud du Royaume-Uni, et 500 ans avant la construction de la grande pyramide de Guizeh en Egypte. Elles abritent un grand nombre de pierres décorées de gravures, dont plusieurs ont été identifiées comme des calendriers lunaires. Newgrange, la plus importante du groupe avec une hauteur de treize mètres, est considérée comme le plus ancien bâtiment ayant eu un toit en permanence. Elle est ouverte au public. Pendant cinq jours autour du 21 décembre, jour du solstice d’hiver et plus courte journée de l’année, les rayons du soleil pénètrent dans les profondeurs de la tombe pour baigner de lumière la chambre funéraire où le corps du défunt avait été déposé.

Newgrange

Mein Wochenende war superklasse. Am SA Vormittag sind wir Richtung Norden aufgebrochen. Die Kathrin ist leider krank geworden, deswegen waren nur Jule, Timo und ich unterwegs.

Unser erster Stop war Newgrange - eine unterirdische Grabstätte in einem Hügel, wo wir eine kleine Führung hatten. Wer machte natürlich wieder ein Foto in der Grabstätte ohne dies eigentlich zu dürfen? “Sorry!” “Sorryyy!!!” No pictures in here. (das wird jedoch nicht online gestellt )

Newgrange: brix und Jule

Newgrange Grabhügel

Der nächste Halt war Derry - die zweitgrößte Stadt Nordirlands – So viele davon haben die dort aber sowieso nicht. Das Städtchen ist echt weiterzuempfehlen. Wir übernachteten in der Jugendherberge “Paddy’s Palace” – echt super, mit Frühstück um nur 11 Pfund (Die in Nordirland haben Pfund, im Gegensatz zum restlichen Irland, wo mittlerweile mit Euro bezahlt wird.) Am Abend gingen wir in ein total uriges Pub mit irischer Livemusik. Tolle Stimmung, Nette Menschen, Uriges Flair.

Pub in Derry "O'Donnell" Timo und Jule

O'Donnell: Irischer Musiker, Irische Musikerin , Timo, Jule

Video der Livemusik

done

Berühmter Guinnes Vogel aus der Werbung

Am Sonntag Morgen gings dann weiter zum Giant’s Causeway. Dort findet man sehr beeindruckende sechseckige Steinsäulen, die aus Lava entstanden sind. Die Legende besagt, dass ein Riese diese Steine gelegt hat, um zu seiner Geliebten nach Schottland über das Wasser laufen zu können. Die Steine sehen auch aus wie Stufen und sind umgeben von einer irrsinnig tollen, grünen Landschaft.

Giant's Causeway und das Meer

Sechseckige Lavasäulen

Ich auf den Stufen des Giant's Causeway

Das letzte Ziel unseres Nordirland-Trips war die Bushmills Distillery, wo wir eine Führung durch die Whisky Brennerei hatten und noch ein Schlückchen kosten durften. Ich probierte den Black Bush, der eher mild und fruchtig sein soll. War auch ganz gut, jedoch bin ich keine überzeugte Whiskytrinkerin.

Bushmills Distillery

Am Nachhauseweg standen wir dann noch zwei Stunden im Stau. Was sehr nervenaufreibend war, da wir unser Auto pünktlich um 21:20 Uhr wieder zurückgeben mussten, ansonsten hätten wir für einen Tag extra bezahlt. Auch unser Benzin reizten wir bis zum letzten Tropfen aus, als wir an der Tankstelle waren, war noch genau 1/4 Liter im Tank drinnen. Was in anderen Worten ein kleines Glas Benzin ist. Laut unserer Berechnung wären wir damit noch ungefähr 3,5 km gekommen

Aber es hat alles gut geklappt, wir hatten jede Menge Spaß und tolles Wetter. Timo ist auch immer brav links gefahren und Jule war die perfekte Navigatorin Mein erster Ausflug in Irland war also sehr gelungen.

Ireland 2007–Monasterboice

Just click on the pictures to go to the album and each picture has more information in the caption.

Monasterboice is now just a cemetery but it has a long history. Founded first in the 4th century by St Buite who died in 521, it has seen many incarnations. It laso had significance to Mellifont Abbey. The tower and the High Crosses date from the tenth century though the tower might be even older. The original abbey is long gone but there are remains of two 14th century abbeys. Over a thousand years of use here, and there is still significant detail left. I can only imagine how majestic these crosses were in their virgin state. I did not know before that the reason there is the round circle on the crosses is that the versions made of gold and jewels would start to bend under the weight of the design and the circle was a support structure to hold up the arms of the cross.

The day was wettish, trying to rain and leaden. The skies in the pictures appear missing for this reason. The moisture did bring out the text of the stone and add rich colors. There might have been on or to other people in the cemetery but really we had it to ourselves, which was nice for exploring. The crosses hold great detail, in stories and early Celtic/Irish design.

The tower, it is believed, was used for protection when the Vikings came by. It is still over 100 feet high and no longer complete. As well, over time, dirt has built up around the base and the once elevated doorway is now about 6-8 feet above ground. Of course this would have been used for storage and for a lookout as well.

Monasterboice was our last stop around the Newgrange area. It wasn’t far from the towns of Drogheda, (Pronounced Droda but you’d hear different pronunciations depending on whether the person was saying the Gaelic or the English version.) Tara or Slaine.

We never did get any pictures of Slaine (two weddings booked in the castle and there after dark for dinner the second night), and though we drove through Kells the night before it was too late for the tourist center. As it was now Sunday we would have had to hang around till 2 pm to get in and as it turns out, there are two Kells in Ireland. The other is in the southwest and neither house the Book of Kells, which I regret not seeing.

By this time we were getting a better sense of driving about and learning to just stop and ask directions, especially when we’d be at a corner that had signs pointing east and south at the same time. Signs for touristy things (landmarks, historic sites, beaches) were in brown and helped a lot in finding places. Towns were in white (w/black lettering) or green (w/white lettering). It seems the secondary routes were the white signs. The roundabouts, on the other hand, never really did get easy.

Next, Belfast to Ballycastle.

First posted Oct. 31, 2007. I’d like to get back to Ireland this year.

I find beauty in stone and architecture, in details and the juxtaposition against sky and flora. St Peter and Paul’s Cathedral was in the town of Trim and not far from the castle. Trim was a very important center at one time. We happened upon the cathedral and just stopped. I loved the sense of age, the details still visible, and that the cemetery was still in use.

The days are blurring together but we arrived in the Newgrange/County Meath area on the Friday evening, then spent Saturday and part of Sunday bopping about before we went north. I can’t remember if we did Trim on Sunday or if it was one of the last things on Saturday. The time of day and that the castle was nearly closed when we hit it makes me think that the cathedral was the last place on Saturday.

We then wandered back to Slaine (that we never did get pictures of nor see the castle because it was booked for weddings). We ate at “the Old Post Office” but had drinks at the pub across the street first until they had space for us. There was a guy playing music but it was 80s tunes. Alas, N.A. rock made its mark everywhere, when we wanted Irish traditional.

So on Sunday, after saying so long to Irene of the Roughgrange B&B right near Newgrange (she was lovely and very friendly) we moved on to Old Mellifont Abbey, a cistercian monastery first founded in 1142 AD by St. Malachy. Of course, it was constructed and expanded over centuries and there were even ruins of one of the old houses on the hill. The rain spittered and spattered but never did more than that.

The detail in the columns were amazing and the sense of age was powerful. I got in trouble at the visitor center for saying we have such little history in Canada. I amended it to say architectural and civic history, because we do have history. But the artifacts of the first Nations were mostly of wood and leather and just as all the places no longer have their roofs in Ireland, we have very little (especially in western Canada) that goes back more than two centuries at most.

The sense of people living, adapting, changing through all those years is stunning. Nature is amazing and what humans have done, both good and bad, awe inspiring too.

Newgrange, County Meath, Ireland

I’m back.  I wanted to stay in Ireland forever – it’s magic.  Check out all my photos here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sarahb75/sets/72157612936964609/show/

Eco Living Magazine presents:

Heading: Winter-Spring Earth Wisdom

By Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Intro: In the Southern Hemisphere we have just passed the Earth holy-day of Winter Solstice, which was in late June; and are moving into Early Spring which may be celebrated in early August and is traditionally named as “Imbolc”.

Winter Solstice is the Seasonal Moment of the year when Earth’s tilt leans us furthest away from the Sun – when the dark part of the day is at its longest. The stories of Old tell of the Great Mother giving birth to the Divine Child on this night, as henceforth the Sun’s light and warmth begin to return, and the ongoing creativity of Earth is assured. This Earth holy-day was adapted by Christianity as the time to celebrate the birth of its Divine Child, but the Divine Child of more ancient Earth-based religious practice was understood as renewed Being itself, the promise of never-ending renewal – apparent eternal Creativity itself. And just so, may we re-story it again in our times, with our own renewed understandings. From this point of the year on, for the next few seasons, Sun’s strength will grow, until it peaks at Summer Solstice and turns yet again.

At the sacred site of Newgrange in Ireland – known by its indigenous name as “Bru na Boinne” – where the megalithic mound is dated at 3200 B.C.E. , the Winter Solstice dawn lights up a Triple Spiral motif that is engraved on the inner chamber wall. It is thought that this Triple Spiral represents the Triple Goddess as She was known by the ancients in that place, and also that it represents the heart of the sacred heritage of ritual celebration of eternal creation, that the seasonal Wheel of the Year expresses, and that this site records .*

Winter Solstice is the time for the lighting of candles, for embracing the miracle of being, for choosing a joyful response to the awesome fact of existence, for celebrating the gift of birth. Birthing is not often an easy process – for the birthgiver, nor for the birthed one: it is a shamanic act requiring strength of bodymind, attention and focus of the mother, and courage to be of the new young one.

Birthgiving is the original place of “heroics”. Many cultures of the world have never forgotten that: perhaps therefore better termed as “heroics.”(In pre-Olympian times, Hera was Amazon Queen of the Land and not the “wife of Zeus”. Heracles was her hero, because he did her bidding, thus the term “hero” is derivative of “Hera”).

Patriarchal adaptations of the story of this Seasonal Moment usually miss the Creative Act of birthgiving completely – pre-occupied as they often are with the “virgin” nature of the Mother being interpreted as an “intact hymen”, and the focus being the Child as “saviour”: even the Mother gazes at the Child in Christian icons, while in more ancient images Her eyes are direct and expressive of her integrity as Creator.

Winter Solstice and Early Spring rituals may be a contemplation of the Creativity of the Cosmos – Cosmogenesis … how it all unfolds. When told from within a “Mother-mind” – a mind that connects the biological creativity of the female body to Cosmic Creativity, to our “Navel” lineage, to the Nativity of every being, then we are all the Holy Ones. And we all – female and male – may know the skill and care required for “birthing” the New, whether that is physical, psychological or however one categorizes it.

In Earth-based religious practice, the ubiquitous icon of Mother and Child – Creator and Created – expresses something essential about the Universe itself … the “motherhood” we are all born within (not simply a “brotherhood”). It expresses the essential Communion experience that this Cosmos is, the innate and holy Care that it takes, and the reciprocal nature of it: that is, how one is always Creator and Created at the same time. We cannot touch without being touched at the same time. We may realize that Cosmogenesis – the entire Unfolding of the Cosmos – is essentially relational: our experience tells us this is so.

Subheading:  Early Spring/Imbolc

The Early Spring/Imbolc celebration is traditionally a time of dedication to the nurturance of the New Young Being. Once again, this is no wimpy task: it is for the brave and courageous, whether one is committing to the new being in another, or in one’s self. The Great Goddess Brigid of the Celtic peoples is traditionally invoked for such a task. She has been understood for millennia as the ‘One Who tends the Flame of Being’: a Brigid-ine commitment is one that is unwavering in its devotion to the central truth of each unique particular self. The stories of old speak of Brigid in three primary capacities – that may need spelling out in our times, as they are almost forgotten skills: She is imagined as blacksmith, physician and poet …   all three.

Blacksmith is one who takes the unshapely lump of raw metal, melts it, then takes the fiery hot form and shapes it. This is no stereotypical “feminine” act: the Goddess of old is not bound by such patriarchal dualisms. She is spiritual warrior, shaman – this is her eternal virgin quality, never separate from the ‘mother’ quality or the ‘Old One’ quality, and no need to characterize such power as “masculine” or dissociate it from “nursery” activity.

Physician is one who understands the “physics” of being, of matter – how a body relates within itself and within its context, functions harmoniously and thus may heal/ become whole. In this role, Brigid is scientist, healer – none of it is separate. Her physics are biologically connected – an understanding of dwelling within a whole and seamless Universe.

Poet of Old is one who speaks the metaphors, the stories of cultural knowledge, the sacred language of creativity – one who “spells” what may be so. It is a power of spirit: the voice enabled by air, resonant with the winged ones – the birds – whose perspective transcends boundaries. The ancients knew Poetry as a sacred and powerful task – that with our words, we do create what is so. Brigid’s “motherhood statements” are statements of the Mother/Creator, Who once again is never separate from her whole self – the Young One and the Old One – represented in the Triple Spiral dynamic.

The coming into Being that Winter Solstice and Early Spring celebrates, is an awesome thing. It takes courage and daring. It has taken courage and daring – always. In these times of change, it is perhaps particularly so. Our times require the melting down of so much that no longer works, that will not carry us through. These times require the re-shaping and speaking of new realities – an aboriginal magic of new connections, with what is already present within us, if we can but plumb it, open to it deep within. This is a great seasonal moment to get with the plot of Creativity, to align ourselves with our Native Wisdom …the Wisdom that in fact brings us all into being. We may respond to the gift of being by receiving it graciously – and thus become responsible. Though we may feel inadequate, we are not – and we need to begin.

It can be a useful exercise to re-write prayers or songs learned perhaps too well as a child or later, to re-speak them and imbue them with new understandings. It is a way of spelling one’s self, of changing one’s mind – to articulate with each word and phrase what one truly believes to be so. And besides, many of the prayers and praises that are found in patriarchal religions of recent human history are often founded upon the expressions of some earlier Earth-based Goddess religion that is now unmentioned and buried. So any re-writing and listening to one’s own interpretations of the pattern of the prayer may end up being closer to its original sense, as well as speaking a new moment.

I offer the following, addressing the Universe as Mother:

Our Mother

Who is with us,

Holy is our Being.

Thy Kin-dom is present.

Thy Desire is felt throughout the Cosmos.

We graciously receive your infinite daily abundance.

May we forgive each other our lack of skill and insensitivity.

May we understand our inner guidance,

and perceive each other’s needs.

For Thine is the Kin-dom, the Power and the Story,

forever and ever.

Blessed Be . **

© Glenys Livingstone 2008

* See Martin Brennan, The Stones of Time: Calendars, Sundials, and Stone Chambers of Ancient Ireland. Rochester Vermont, Inner Traditions International, 1994.

** Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. IUniverse 2005, p. 259, with acknowledgement of Karen Davis’ term “Kin-dom”, from “A Peacable Kin-dom and the Ethics of Eating”, EarthLight, Issue 51 Vol 14 No.2., Autumn 2004. p.54.

***Newgrange:  The Megalithic Passage Tombs of Newgrange,  Knowth,  Dowth, Fourknocks, Loughcrew and Tara are located in the present day County of Meath on the east coast of Ireland. The Boyne Valley Mounds at Newgrange, Knowth and Dowth were built around 3200BC making them older than Stonehenge in England and the Pyramids of Giza in Egypt. Built by Neolithic farming communities about 5000 years ago, the passage tombs have clear astronomical alignments such as the Winter Solstice Sunrise at Newgrange and the Equinox Sunrise at Loughcrew.

©Eco Living Magazine

Eco Living Magazine

Midas Word

Übers Wochenende hatte ich einen Besucher da und wir haben uns ein Auto gemietet. Dadurch habe ich einiges von Dublins Norden gesehen. Zuerst sind wir nach Newgrange gefahren. Eine 4000 Jahre alte Grabkammer, die von aussen sehr groß aussieht, im inneren aber sehr klein ist. Dabei handelt es sich um die berühmte Grabkammer bei der die Sonne exakt 17 Minuten lang zur Wintersonnenwende (18. bis 25 Dezember, wenn ich mich nicht irre) das Innere ausleuchtet. Eine Demonstration sieht man in der Kammer.

Weiters haben wir uns das Battle of Boyne angesehen. Eine Schlacht die am Fluss Boynce ausgetragen wurde und zwischen zwei Königen stattfand.  Anschließend gings noch an die Grenze zu Nordirland. Genauer in die Stadt Dundalk.  Wo wir uns den Strand angesehen haben.!!!