Vacations are often a time to relax and let the senses wander, and wandering was a deliberate part of my recent trip to Ireland. It’s taken me a while to feel comfortable writing a broader piece about its people and energy in a way that seems genuine.
Ireland is a complicated place with a vast history. One might think that, having a great-grandfather who immigrated from Ireland, I would know quite a bit about its history, but I don’t.
Part of the reason might be that some who left Ireland may have been happy to say good riddance and hoped to leave this slice of life behind, never looking back. This doesn’t glamorize the Emerald Isle for the magic and mysticism like we see on postcards, but when you look more deeply, Ireland was a hard life.
When I was in Ireland, I could feel the streets and stones talk. And with so much history echoing back, it was hard in the moment to fully understand, but there is a story here. The story Ireland spoke was a mixture of magic and heartache in a way that didn’t sidestep the truth.
For such a small island, Ireland’s history is much deeper and richer than most know, and I am certain now that visiting was the only way for me to understand this. There is mystique here. You can hear it in the pubs, its music and across every green pasture and stone fence.
I understand why music and drink became so important to the Irish; it seems a coping mechanism.
When you fully understand the hardship of Ireland’s history, you quickly understand why its people are who they are and why many leave.
I felt the tension in Belfast and Derry; this mood is strong, but so are its people. Where the heart has fractured from hate and war, their hearts also sense an opportunity to heal. Each side looks at the other, knowing their past, but they are tired.
Ireland seems tired of being on edge and standing tall for the cause. I sense many are ready to lay down the old for something new. More deeply, I sense many already have.
The Irish are the only ones who can implement a new and unified solution, and I, as an outsider, must be there to support this effort. They’ll find their way because the Irish are capable of magnificent things.
And if I learned anything while in Ireland, it’s that their collective heart is present and powerful!
The stones not only talked to me about the many hazards that have touched the Irish people, but they also helped me understand the Irish spirit.
When you talk to people there, you know the strength they carry and can see it in their eyes and their smile. There is a childlike commitment to everyday life. One can feel where all the great stories, poetry, and music originate.
I sense there is an innate ability here to let the wind and rain wash the burden away. The luck spoken of by the Irish is their ability to let things go easily and to find fascination or a story in simple things.
There is magic here, something you can’t name or put your finger on. But it’s here, and you can’t deny it. Picture yourself in a great library, with all the books whispering to you. Not in a way that would make you crazy, but in a way that leaves you breathless and inspired. Ireland is the library, and its books are everywhere.
I came home from Ireland in a higher gear and knew I had been touched by what the fields, stones, and hearts had released.
Its modern infrastructure might convince you it’s just another travel destination. But Ireland is old-world and dense with ancient wisdom. It’s a place where people have spoken to the land and to the stars, and their collective voices have created magic.
This is a place where little people (fairies and such) are protected, and the Gaelic Irish voice, once almost forgotten, has been rekindled.
Step softly and listen. Let Ireland share its mysteries with you!
TK
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