Out of Civilized Galway Into the Wildness of The Burren

 
Thursday morning May 22 dawned early for me - I rolled out of my bed and onto my yoga mat about 3 that morning, and as I stayed for a few breaths in child's pose, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Way back in August of 2001, I made this little clay dish at a prayer retreat. And as I pressed my thumbprints into the soft clay, I prayed, "God press your thumbprints into my life so that I am marked." I'm not sure what I expected when I prayed that day, but here I was 13 years later, remembering that prayer and this dish with such gratitude. God HAS left thumbprints on my life through every individual I have met along the way. Some have pressed hard and deep, some have left soft caressing marks, some have shaped. Some of those prints have been left by places, like England, Arizona, White Sands, and now Galway. Some have been left by Tom and Athena, my cats. And these pilgrim monks I have met here in Galway will leave their marks on me as well. And that is God. That's the way God marks - through people, places, things, events, animals, sky, trees - it's all God's mark.

And Donna left her thumbprint when she brougt me this beautiful
linen piece from Ireland in 2011. Didn't know the Claddagh symbol
originated in Galway. THIS is how I KNOW there is God. Over and over
synchronicity shows me there is another force at work in my life that is Love.

THEME - COMMUNITY Each day of pilgrimage had a theme. The first day's theme in Galway was "HOSPITALITY", which I met everywhere I went, beginning with the cab driver who met me at the bus station and offered me and my wobbly-wheeled suitcase a ride to the BnB. 

FIRST STOP TODAY - Kilmacdaugh Abbey

The Abbey from afar -THIS is why I came to Ireland (I think).
I love old churches, and I am immediately smitten!

Holy lives worshiped here. Holy lives STILL worship here.

"Soft days" - raindrops on my camera lens. We walk the path
to the outer edges of the Abbey grounds. I thought I had a picture, but...
just imagine cows lying to your left just beyond the walls. They know this
still holds life - they are part of it, and in their serenity, I am reminded, so am I.

Ferns growing in stone

wildflowers grasping life

All is provided

by Martha Louise Harkness

I just love this image as I stood at the top of those steps

and breathed in the silence.

Monks love their stone towers.

Arches and windows, letting in the Light and the sounds
of the Beloved.

My heart always skipped a beat as we turned to prayer in these holy places.
Abbess Christine leads us to the Altar for prayer and quiet.

Another point of view: another kind of window, one for the rabbits and mice
along the way, and another over the fern and the wildflowers growing through the stones.
All around, the stones provide shelter.
Reminds me of the Scriptures: You are my hiding place, my strong tower, my shelter.

FROM THE ABBEY TO THE BURREN PERFUMERY FOR LUNCH

Martha Louise, Rebecca and Polly

Alix and Heath (my fellow Episcopalian)

THE PERFUMERY AND THE HERB GARDENS

The Burren Perfumery, where they gather wildflowers,
grow their own herbs, distill it, package and sell it all right here.
I bought some lovely lotion for my yogis here.

OMG, I wish I had "smell" capabilities on my computer.
The fragrance was heady and wonderful!

NOW WE HEAD TO AN AFTERNOON AT "THE BURREN"

The word "Burren" comes from an Irish word "Boíreann" meaning a rocky place. This is an extremely appropriate name when you consider the lack of soil cover and the extent of exposed Limestone Pavement. However it has been referred to in the past as "Fertile rock" due to the mixture of nutrient rich herb and floral species.

In 1651 a Cromwellian Army Officer named Ludlow remarked, "of this barony it is said that it is a country where there is not water enough to drown a man, wood enough to hang one, nor earth enough to bury them. This last is so scarce that the inhabitants steal it from one another and yet their cattle are very fat. The grass grows in tufts of earth of two or three foot square which lies between the limestone rocks and is very sweet and nourishing." (from the website above)

We had a wonderful guide, Tony Kirby, as we gathered to walk the Burren to Temple Cronin and the holy well.

Walking along the limestone rock of The Burren.
It was a cold and rainy day. So grateful for rain paints and good shoes.
Must hit the sweater shop for another layer, though!

Tony Kirby explaining how the turf of The Burren grows.

Beautiful little flowers along the way.

The Burren is one of only two or three places in the whole
world that has the necessary elements in place to
grow flowers from all the climate zones -
from the arctic to the tropics

Teeny little tropical orchids

Tony continues to try and fill my little pea brain with so much knowledge of this fabulous place,
and pilgrim monks climb ancient steps in the wall to pass over into another landscape.

Pilgrims walking an old path between two stone fences.
Tony explained the difference between the two - one is
purposed for holding sheep inside.

Pilgrims enter fairlyand.

We have moved into "fairyland".

My first glimpse of a "holy well". I will admit that in my
skeptical days, "holy" meant inside the 4 walls of a church,
but that's changed over the years. And after pilgrimage, I KNOW
why these places are called holy. You can feel the energy here of
days gone by, and numbers of pilgrims making their way to
these sites - all kinds of pilgrims, not just Christian pilgrims.
All people know that water that bubbles up out of the ground in barren places -
well, it's holy. No other word for it.

Maura steps over the stone steps in this sacred space.

Tony teaches us (me) how to "walk the rounds" of a sacred well.
One usually walks 3 times or 7 times. How many others have walked the rounds here,
and for how long?

Monks leave this blessed place. More will come.

Wells & ruins

Christians & Druids

deep calls to deep

release & keep

laugh & weep

arise & sleep

then repeat

 Martha Louise Harkness

Thank you for visiting these places with me again. It has been a long day. We leave this space in silence and journey back to Galway, bone tired, but blessed - and still not believing we're here. Gratitude, gratitude, gratitude!

And so much gratitude to Martha Louise Harkness for her "yes" to letting me use her haiku's and poetry on my blog space.

Monks Meet for a City Tour

We all officially met for the first time on Tuesday evening, May 20, at 5:00 in the living room of the Adare Guesthouse - 11 expectant, curious, anxious, tired, bewildered, and almost giggly monks and our two fearless leaders. Let me introduce you:

Christine Valters Paintner, Abbess of Abbey of the Arts, and her husband John Paintner, our "Prior". They've been living in Galway now for about 18 months. A really fun and delightful part of this trip was their living room! A circle room at the top of their apartment building in Galway, looking out over Galway Bay - doesn't get much better than that! Their apartment became one of my visual landmarks for finding my way around the City, and it was funny how many times some of us would pass by their building, look up at the tower and wonder if they were up there watching us. Kind of a child's image of "God" watching over us. Made me feel safe and warm - still a kid at heart.

Abbess Christine and Prior John

Their view of Galway and my all-time favorite dancing monk, Hildegard of Bingen

Meet the happy monks:

Alix, Barbara (in one of many hats), Heath, Lisa, Marie and Martha Louise

Maura, Polly, Rebecca, me, and Zohra Ahmed

We all officially met that Tuesday evening, but before the night was over Spirit had breathed Her Oneness into all of us. Our hearts truly were united. I've never met a more kindred spirit.

We had a opening ceremony, then walked to the first of a number of wonderful dinners, then met again Wednesday morning for our first outing around Galway. We hit some of the same places I had found on my own, but Prior John filled in the blanks. It was cold and a little rainy - a "soft day" in Ireland.

These are a few photos I took of the city and our tour. Enjoy.

One of many beautiful windows in Galway's Cathedral

Windows and frescos

Prior John introduces us to St. Nicholas Collegiate Anglican Church
We do love our red doors!

And our pipe organs. I thought of Paul Butts and the St. Timothy's choir.
I'm so grateful for the beautiful music in the Episcopal/Anglican Church.

Beautiful icons




We learned a little of the City's history as we walked down the old streets.

An archaeological dig right there in the middle of old-town Galway

Seattle and Galway are "sister cities", each having a marker like this pointing the direction
to the other city. I had already thought that the landscape of Galway reminded me of Seattle.
Now I know why - two of my favorite places on earth.

Monks love their towers. John's and Christine's Abbey with a view.

Where I ate my first meal in Galway - Pizza and wine, of course!

For my son Barton and grandson Isaac, and all the other music lovers in my life.

All kinds of music everywhere.

Last but not least - where I spent my money. I think Fuller's may
have been sad to see me go!

A Walking Tour of Galway

So, this blog post will  be a simple tour around Galway. Tuesday morning dawned bright and sunny

Good Morning Galway!

By the way, the sun begins to rise and the birds begin to sing about 4:15 a.m. and the sun is fully up by 4:30! And it doesn't go down until - well, after my bedtime. That was it's own experience, but I digress.

It was still cold Tuesday morning and began clouding up as I prepared to take another walk. I left the Adare House behind and began walking in a different direction (monks must be willing to move in any direction at any given time).

I love the patio gardens in front of all the little houses - the flowers are big and bright, bold and beautiful! And they seem to welcome the stranger, offering their own gift of hospitality to whomever passed by.

There are brightly painted doorways (love the red!), 

a profusion of color spills from beds and pots, 

and climbs over fences,

while tough minded bits of color push their way up from beneath rock and dirt that forms stone fences all along the way - 

I want to be just this tenacious!

why, fragrance and color even drips from the trees!

I wound my way up and around block after block until I found myself near what I presume to be the Hospital Project Office (about 2 miles), then turned and headed back down toward more familiar territory until I found myself standing at what became one of my favorite landmarks

You're almost Home!

Around another corner is "home".

After a short rest, I headed back toward town to explore along the river. There are three bridges that cross the River Corrib in Galway. The Wolfe Tone Bridge was the one nearest the Adare House that we crossed everyday as we walked into the old City. As I crossed the bridge, I noticed a walkway along the river, so I took it.

It's a neat little paved path called Comb Walk, that winds along the river bank. Along the pathway, you might see lovers walking hand in hand, or a couple carrying a canoe back to a drop off point, or old men and young boys fishing for salmon.

If you keep following the path, you'll cross O'Brien's Bridge

always spotting the green dome across the river behind the trees

or the ancient spires of St. Nicholas Collegiate Church (the Anglican/Episcopal church) in old-town Galway.

At Salmon Weir Bridge you can fish for salmon or you can cross over and visit Galway Cathedral, a "new" church, dedicated in 1965. It is the youngest stone church in all of Europe.

Since I didn't have my fishing gear, I turned onto the property at Galway Cathedral, and my eye caught a glimpse of this stone statue to my left. As I moved closer, I saw her - emerging from the stone. 

On the way to Ireland while on the plane, I read Sue Monk Kidd's newest novel, The Invention of Wings, the story of Sarah and Angelina Grimke, South Carolina plantation owner sisters who fought for the emancipation of slaves in the early 1800's. Their fight to free the slaves eventually led to their fight for their own rights and the liberation of women. They were sweet little Southern girls who managed to muster plenty of gumption and courage to help themselves and others find freedom  - this statue entitled Equality Emerging gave me a visual of their story. Just yesterday, I read a Huffington Post article posted on Facebook about a 75-year old woman pursuing the priesthood to the point of risking excommunication from the Catholic Church - because she's a woman, and women cannot be a part of the priesthood. I thought of this statue; somehow, it seems rather significant to me that this statue is right here, at the entry of the grounds to the Catholic Cathedral in Galway. It was a holy moment for me.

Tomorrow, I'll share a little about our first night together as "pilgrim monks".

Arriving In A Foreign Land - The Beginning Of Pilgrimage

It is my intention to blog for a few days as I attempt to process some of the things that took place while I was in Ireland.

Why Ireland? Ireland had not really been on my grid of places to go, yet here I was - flying thousands of miles by myself to a foreign land (albeit relatively safe, since they speak English), to be with a group of people whom I didn't know to go on "pilgrimage"? Why? It seemed I had almost been compelled to go. I had dreamed of making pilgrimage, but seriously, not to Ireland. Yet...

I asked myself "Why Ireland?" often before I left, and even while I was there. It was only in the last day or two that I knew what made me go: I had been called. Ireland itself, the land, the ruins, the holy wells, the people, the green, the fairies and rainbows, and the monks had called me. And somehow, something inside me heard the call and said "Yes." I didn't choose Ireland. Ireland chose me.

It was a little daunting getting off the plane at the Dublin Airport and realizing that the distance between where I was and where I had to meet the bus was really a bit further than it looked on the map. Not a huge distance, but far enough that struggling with my big wobbly-wheeled suitcase across uneven pavement to another building (now which one did he say???) was a big deal. Needless to say, I grabbed the first bus marked "Galway" and settled in for the last leg of my "just get to Galway" trip, a 3-hour bus ride.

Some of the sights along the way:

Along the river that winds through Dublin

Colors of Ireland

It was raining and cold when I arrived in Galway. I had intended to be a real pilgrim and walk the distance from the bus station to Adare Guesthouse where we were staying, but the heavy suitcase with the wobbly wheels, the cold rain, and the absolute discombobulation of being in such strange place unsettled me so that when the nice taxi driver rolled down his window and offered me a ride, I quickly said, "Yes!" (Notice the word "Yes". Pilgrims must get used to saying "yes", often and without too much thought processing). We arrived in "nothing flat", and the kindly cab driver unloaded my luggage and carried them into the lobby. Right then, I determined that cabs were the way to go.

A hospitable young woman named Mary greeted me, and she hauled my bag up three flights to "home" for the next 10 days.

The view from my 3rd floor walkup:

Looking from my window onto the patio

A Window with a View

I will confess, I was pretty nervous about going exploring on my own, but several years ago, a good friend of mine provided me with a mantra that has changed me on my insides: "Face the fear and do it anyway!" I donned my raincoat on over my sweater and out I went to explore the city. I know I'm not very good about noticing and remembering landmarks, but I had my map, so surely...except I quickly discovered there aren't many street signs in Galway, at least not in consistent places, so a map didn't help much, except there was the river, so the river became my marker.  And the Adare Guesthouse folks really helped by painting it bright yellow and lettering it with large letters easily spotted when you get in the vicinity, but before I realized all that, I was slightly overwhelmed with the idea of getting lost. But one of my favorite expressions is "Don't trust a guide who's unwilling to get lost," so off I went, exploring the river and the streets of Galway.

I happened upon the "pedestrian streets" in the center of the city. Even that was pretty daunting because the crowds were big and my little bit of ADD drove the periphery of my vision crazy, until I finally set myself down in a little sidewalk cafe. I knew I was getting "beside myself", so I sat in a chair, put my feet on the ground, and just breathed. I practiced my yoga breath for a few minutes, until I felt space being made inside myself. I felt myself becoming one with the city, not apart from it, but a part of it. There was a definite shift as I sat quietly and breathed in Galway, and I wasn't afraid anymore. When I got home someone had posted this on Facebook, and I KNEW this was what I had experienced.

THE QUOTE: “You cannot travel the path until you become the path itself” ~ Buddah Artwork by Jane Lissner / The Path Unwinding..

Pilgrimage had begun - I was on my way, but first a little fortification for the journey. Can't beat pizza and wine outside in a sidewalk cafe lined with window boxes full of flowers.

Notice the PIZZA!

I had arrived. I was here in this space. Now, I wonder what tomorrow will bring?