How could I not write something about the mystical journey I have been on since arriving July 19th on this beautiful green Isle? There is a mysterious language here, it runs beneath the feet of all these beautiful people and on an underground current it takes you to thousands of years before this day. I didn’t expect this. I’m not sure what I expected but it certainly was not this. Since I have arrived I have been initiated with my Healer’s Rites by a gifted Celtic Shaman, I’ve stood on a hill within the crumbling walls of a 4000 year old stone structure, I’ve dared to step into a ring of fairy trees to bear witness to the release of the children’s souls who’s graves were under my feet. I have placed my hand on a “Mass Rock” – a stone in which hundreds of others before me have done the same thing hundreds of years ago as they gathered in seclusion to hold mass and prayed the government did not find them. I sat inside a small rock cavern that dates back thousands of years ago – the same place that a legendary hobbit once sat as well. It was warm, secure, peaceful. These experiences one could not possibly plan for but I sit here in deep gratitude that my life has been so blessed and that I have been given so many opportunities to experience this richness.

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