Friday, June 20, 2014

Pilgrimage, Day 5 - Cong Abbey and Inchgoaill Island


Yesterday had been full and this day's theme was SILENCE & SOLITUDE. I dare say that most, if not all of us were introverts, so this day of silence (for the most part) was eagerly anticipated.

Our van driver John and his wonderful ride picked us up at the Adare Guesthouse bright and early and we sat out for Cong Ireland, and a visit to the Abbey. 


Meet John our driver for the week. He thought he was just a driver,
but he is a monk, a contemplative. He enters into all the prayers and rituals,
and his presence is hospitality and peace. Thank you John, with heartfelt gratitude.
Cong is a beautiful little town, the filming location for John Wayne's The Quiet Man. Jim (my husband) is impressed that I came home from Ireland wanting to watch a John Wayne movie. This photo, one of the first I took in Cong, I took for here! Here you go Sweetie, I did think of you while I was there!
Big John always draws a crowd!


John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara, The Quiet Man


Christine and John ushered us into the big green space of the Abbey, and we had our morning prayer, praying in the four directions:



To the East, awaiting dawn and awakening, the bringer of light, early morning, and the rising sun. It's element is the wind. What is awakening in me today, here in this place of pilgrimage?



To the South, welcoming the noonday sun, illumination. It's element is fire. What is being illuminated in my life? What am I seeing clearly? What brings warmth to my soul?



To the West, the setting sun, dusk, letting go, limitations. It's element is water. Where am I noticing my limitations? What am I being called to let go of? How comfortably do I find myself being drawn to just enter the flow, letting o and allowing the River to take me?


For added emphases, our view to the North opened onto  a wall under construction
and a vie of the cemetery glimpsed through the scaffolding.
And to the North, the deepest night, the longest sleep It's element is earth. I came from the earth, and I will return to the earth. How does the earth call to me?

And we listened for our own personal prayer, mine: open, listen, flow, home. For me, these four words went with these four directions: as I awake, my invitation is to OPEN my heart, my soul, my mind and my spirit. As I continue through the day, I LISTEN and watch and hear and see what Spirit is saying and doing in my own life. As the Great River flows through my day, I enter into the FLOW, partnering and cooperating with the River. At the end of the day, I find myself HOME, in my own skin, truly, quietly, splendidly home where I belong, rooted and ground in Love's Center, in my own center, here, now.

After we finished morning prayer, we followed Christine across the bridge, through the archway, and across the threshold into the most beautiful forest I've been in since the Redwood Forest of our own country's northwest. Here we were invited to an hour of blessed quiet, and time to wander and explore the forest on our own.  Typically, I'm an open-sky kind of girl. I love being able to see far, and to breathe in the openness of a treeless environment (or short trees), but once in a while it's a great thing to be invited to the heart of a deep wood, to be encircled, to be still and quiet, to hear only the silence of the earth as She breathes. I sat for a while and journalled, and just listened to the stillness of the earth, the water flowing, and the song of the birds. And I listened to the ancient voices of the trees towering above me, "May you be as deeply grounded in the Love of God as we are in this moist, rich earth. Let your roots sink deep into Love's Ground. Be fastened there, held in the heart of Love."


How often on our pilgrim journey are we invited to "cross over"?
My sitting spot
 

I was always conscious that my feet had brought me here.
I remembered when my feet were so "lame", and my prayer from
Hind's Feet on High Places. I'm so grateful for feet that can travel.

Here I am...I am HERE in this lovely place, and I BELONG here.
Finally, I pulled myself up and began to walk the path of the deep woods, listening to the quiet sounds of the morning, once more reveling in the fact that I was HERE, in this beautiful space, and I belonged here. I was called here. This is part of my destiny, to be here, now.







The trail ended at this large castle, but I wasn't ready to
enter the bustle, so I turned around and headed back into the woods.
After I finished my walk, I had tea and a scone in the Happy Monk Cafe (of course). As we once more began to gather, I snapped a few photos of this magical little town, then we headed for lunch on the boat and our cruise to the island of Inchgoaill. 


How appropriate!

Tea Time




Prior John and John the drive wait for us to gather.
Christine's there, too, sitting behind Prior John.



Our ride to Inchgoaill Island and our captain

 

Rebecca and Barbara (who loves hats and has an awesome collection)

Polly and Zohra

Alix

Marie, Maura and John

Appropriate title for our afternoon



Polly and Alix 
Zohra

Sheila, Martha Louise and Lisa

The landing
Lough Corrib is the largest lake in Ireland, and there are 365 small islands on the lake. Inchgoaill is the most famous and also the 4th largest. The word Inchgoaill means "home of the stranger". I'm supposing it got its name from the story that St. Patrick was banished there when he first came to Ireland. The monastic ruins on the islands date back to the 5th Century.

This archway dates these ruins. The saint on the far right is St. Brigit,
the only woman who's face is carved in the stone.

Arches and thresholds - how many are we invited to pass through
along our own inner journey?

I am every mindful that what we see around us lies within us.
Lush greenry, ancient ruins, altars, stone and earth -
it's all INSIDE of us. There is no inside.
There is no outside.

Little windows letting in slivers of light.

The first site we visited on Inchgoaill was "Teampall Na Naoimh" translated as the "Church of the Saints". It is believed that this church was built by the Agustian Monks of Cong circa 1180 A.D. At that time between monks and lay scholars there were about 3,000 people in the monestary of Cong. For this reason the monks needed a place of peace and quiet to pray and meditate and so the Church of the Saints was built.


The stone of Lugnad and St.Patrick's church are situated quiet close to each other, about 100 meters west of Teampall Na Naoimh. More that any other monument on the Island the stone of Lugnad has captured the attention of the most renowned archaeologists. The 5th century inscription on the stone which is still legible to-day reads "Lia Lugnaedon Macc Lmenueh". It is believed that St Patrick and his nephew (who was also his navigator) came to Cong in the middle of the 5th Century to spread the Christian faith. The Pagan druids who were very powerful people at the time had St. Patrick and his nephew banished to Inchagoill Island. This is how the Island got its name - Inis an Ghaill(the Island of the Stranger). While building their church Lugnad died and was buried on the Island. It is interesting to note that the stone has the shape of a boats rudder tying in with the theory that Lugnad was St. Patrick's navigator. We believe that Limanin was St. Patrick's sister.Many archologists claim that this inscription is the oldest Christian inscription in Europe apart from one found in the Catacombs of Rome.


Our captain and guide has always been a part of this lake and island,
carrying on his father's legacy. Maura to the left, and Polly to his right.

Following the path to St. Patrick's little church



Stone walls and doorways - so symbolic of the openings in our stony hearts.


The stone of Lugnad

After the boat ride back to Cong and the ride back to the Adare Guesthouse in Galway, we had a lovely (noisy) dinner at the Ard Bia in Galway. The Valters-Paintners certainly know how to eat. I've never had such good food as I ate while I was in Ireland, from the breakfasts that Grainne served each morning at our BnB to the lovely dinners we had in the evenings.

And I cannot close this blog post without remembering Trinity Sunday last week at St. Timothy's, the rousing processional hymn we sang, I Bind Myself Today
As we sang this lovely hymn, I was transported back to Inchgoaill Island and St. Patrick's story. I am so grateful for his testimony of love and trust in the the Trinity. At the end of church, I took this photo to post for my pilgrim monk community. I do believe St. Patrick was there!

Christ beside me,
Christ before me,
Christ be behind me
King of my heart;
Christ be within me.

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