Surrounded by conscientious human beings all committed to bringing awareness to the plight of our planet, to those who are suffering and in need in the world, to the absolute necessity of collaborative effort and action.  I am inspired to my core.  There is a sudden awareness of my being in the company of those who share my calling and mission… to simply make the world a happier place to be.

My tribe wanders the streets, partaking in the feast that is offered.  From the thought provoking dialogue with pioneers in ecological conservation, to the awe inspiring life of Prudence.  Prudence, of the Academy award winning documentary film, ‘Music By Prudence’, directed by Roger Ross Williams.  She is a lodestar for humanity. Living proof of our indomitable spirit, of our ability to shine in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.  She honored the truth within her own heart, knowing that despite her circumstances, her life had meaning, purpose and value. Now she brings joy and inspiration to the masses.

Greg Mortenson, the author of “Three Cups of Tea”, presented a beautiful symposium on his work in Pakistan and Afghanistan.  He is so humble, his passion, commitment and love of serving so evident. Greg’s life and calling is a testimony to the powerful impact one individual can have, how true sincerity and love are catalysts of powerful transformation. Greg embodies Gandhi’s proclamation, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

The most profoundly awakening film of the festival was the movie ‘I Am’, produced and directed by Tom Shadyak.  It is the story of his personal journey into the truth of our human potential and happiness.  He investigates our innate nature from multiple interdisciplinary perspectives and asks the ‘big questions.’  At one point in the film he actually gives the viewer the experience of their own capacity for compassion, the visceral experience of our immediate and shared response to the suffering of others.  In one word, BRILLIANT! Science is beginning to come to the same conclusions about the nature of reality and the inherent qualities of our humanity as the sages, seers and mystics throughout time.  That in fact, the notion of a ‘separate self’, is becoming an obsolete and archaic model that simply isn’t true. The gap is rapidly closing between science and spirituality.  Strange, truth is truth no matter who realizes it.

I am inspired by these mavericks who boldly challenge themselves and the status quo. Who determine for themselves what is and isn’t possible.  They are the noble ones who dare to live according to their deepest values.  I believe that each day we make a difference by what we think, what we say, and what we do.  In choosing to be conscious, to be responsible, to be an agent of change in the world we take our place of belonging.  We become the embodiment of the greatness of humanity.

If there was anything you could change in the world what would it be.  What can you do right now?  How can you be the answer? What can you do daily, to be an expression of what you feel the world is lacking?

I believe in you.

santidevi

Mr. Coili and I outside of his Pub in Galway City

I spend three days in Galway, home to traditional Irish music, a celebratory bohemian lifestyle, and an influx of immigrants.  It is a walking city and I gladly explore it on foot.  This is an ancient city with a rich and colorful history.  Though I am interested in what has happened here I am more interested in what will.  I love not having an agenda, an itinerary of points on a map to check off, after I have raced from one to the next.  My wanderings are led by my inner compass, one that never fails me.  Synchronicity and spontaneity are my foremost lovers, and can be counted on for uncommon timing and adventure.

Quay Street is cobblestone, and lined with every sort of Pub, boutique, bakery, and restaurant. Virtually any cuisine you could imagine is offered in this hamlet.  Swans

Swans on Galway Bay

float serenely on Galway Bay, which reaches to the Atlantic. The Aran Islands are just off the coast and can be spotted on a clear day.  I was blessed with three blue sky milagros. Thomas Dillon, is the original producer of the Claddagh ring, I visit the quaint little red and yellow corner building and buy my Adrienne another.  I also find a tarnished silver Mary Medal that they promptly glisten and which I place securely around my neck.  There she will stay.

Buskers play in the streets, and music can be heard from anywhere in the city.  The Irish say “Cheers”, which in Gaelic is slainte, means, “health.”  It is said as a toast, as a send off, and in good hearted expression.  I love the relaxed intensity of the Irish I have met here. Intelligent, witty, and sharp, they embrace me. Their easy going nature and readiness to assist is as none other.  I stay at the Skeff on Eyre Square, a recently renovated landmark that now has a very hip and modern interior.  The adjacent pub lies in stark contrast, maintaining its Irish roots and integrity with a dark wood bar beautiful art and Guinness flowing.  They didn’t have a room available, but then by some happenstance and a phone call later the man who had booked the room suddenly cancelled.

Galway’s nightlife is a Monday-Sunday phenomenon.  Even during the week people are out until all hours.  I am on Irish time.  I find my Pub of choice through a recommendation from a local.  Chee Kolee.  As I have no Gaelic characters I write it phonetically.  I went every night, the last of which I got a photo of myself with the owner. Friday evening, I met an interesting man, a Mr. Devi, who had willingly surrendered his reservation at the Skeff so that I might lodge there.  Coincidence? I thanked him for his generosity, which of course he humbly dismissed. A man of sharp intelligence, intensity and wit.  I found him altogether compelling. The alchemy between two people is a mysterious thing, no constellations of events, nor stubborn will of refusal can stop its course.   I had no desire to refuse him.  Still waters run deep and wide, and to the sea they flow.  Mr. Devi was a celestial phenomenon and in a genre of his own.  Our paths will yet cross.

People come from all over the world to play music here, traditional Irish folk music and on my last night three legends convened.  I had by chance the best seat in the house to a standing room only bar.  People here gladly mingle, personal space is absolutely irrelevant when you’re listening to the best of the best.  I seem to always have a half pint of Guinness in hand for when the glass is empty someone has bought me another.  In that single night my world was transformed, the maestros, masters of their craft played to my very soul.  A complex multi layered tapestry of sound that inspired every cell in my body.  I could not have had a better bittersweet send off.  Galway I will miss.

While there I took a one-day tour of Connemara.  A beautifully rugged and picturesque landscape lost in time.  Old famine cottages, rippled land where potato crops once grew, lakes, that stretch as far as the eye can see. Anglo-Norman towers stand alone on pasture land.  We get a brief, well-rehearsed history lessen of the area from a tour driver who dreams of doing anything else.  The highlight of the trip is an Abbey that now fades into the earth, a relic from the 1300′s.  It was raided and burned seven times throughout its age, each time rebuilt.  The resiliency of the faithful never ceases to deepen my own resolve.  We walk aside a lake where the thin veneer of ice is buckling, an eerie sound of fire and water colliding.  Moss grows in green thickness over bark and roots, earth and stone.  In the side of a hill Mary looks down from her grotto, all blue and white, merciful and unmoving.  I get down on my knees in the soil of this hallowed place and I pray for peace in this world.  Mary, the embodiment of the Great Goddess is everywhere.  I encounter her in Galway at Saint Mary’s cathedral in all her stain glass glory looking royal in red.  Here I bend on Catholic kneeling wood and confess my deep love for her.

Beloved Mother Mary

Before saying goodbye to Mr. Devi, he well advised me to draw an arrow pointing left to keep me on the right side of the road.  I admit it took a bit of adjusting but that was nothing compared to having to use the navigational system!  Let’s just say that yesterday I enjoyed an hour or so off the beaten path on narrow Irish roads with my patient, clearly not Irish, woman saying “recalculating, recalculating.”  I arrived in Dingle last night well past dark after taking the car ferry.  Today I will drive the peninsula and then head for Kenmare.  I love traveling alone as strange as that may sound.  I can hear my own rhythm, be still as I choose, eat at my leisure or not.  I have my own map that dissolves on a whim.  I can wander freely… arrow left

Landing in Chicago, the city is blanketed in white.  We land on a runaway covered in snow and ice.  A two hour layover that turns into four.  I stare out my window seat and watch the world beneath me.  Drifts accumulate on the wings,  little tonka trucks shovel the impossible, while our luggage sits amidst the dropping temperatures and flurries.  I see a whole line of emergency vehicles following a plane that has just landed.  The wind is howling strong, and relentless.  I call to it, will it listen?  Just to be sure I knew I had been heard, it begins to form small dust devils, lifting the snow into circles of shimmering light.  I have seen it do the same with sand in the high desert, in northern New Mexico where the wind never tires.  A good omen. Everyone on board is anxious, it is a long flight and as I watch the sci-fi of the de-icing robotics I wonder if the alien green fluid will keep us from falling from the sky.  It is midnight before we are in the air, and the cabin grows quiet.

I arrive at Heathrow, a virtual maze of an airport, and a city unto itself.  I have been through here several times but it  doesn’t make it any easier to navigate.  I have less than 45 minutes to get through U.K. customs and make my flight on Aer Lingus for Dublin.  The interesting thing about time is the more you slow down, the greater its expansion.  I refuse to be in a rush, adventure will be had one way or another!  I consciously center my awareness on the fact that there is no where to be other than where I am.  This is how I choose to live my life no matter what the circumstances.  I arrive minutes before they begin boarding flight 165.  I sit behind  hollywood actor, Samuel Jackson who is easily recognizable and conspicuous in his ray ban black sunglasses.  I am relieved to travel in this world anonymously.

A short flight to the Dublin airport, exactly an hour.  I pick up my one “no worse for the wear” suitcase at baggage, grateful to the Gods that it is here and not anywhere else.  I exchange my nearly worthless American dollars for the upgraded euro.  I am on the road again.  I love nothing, nearly as much, as I love being anywhere I have not been before.  All the comfort of the familiar is erased.  I don’t know where I am going or how I will get there.  My immediate dependency on the unseen and the unknown is so keenly felt when I am out of my element,  it makes my surrender ever more sweet.  As I  listen to the symphony of languages being spoken, none of which I understand, I savor my new world.  I have always felt as if I was a foreigner, looking in from the outside.

I take the air coach to City Centre, the heart of Dublin.  I have a room for the night at the Arlington Hotel, a three star landmark with nightly traditional Irish music and dancing.

The Arlington Hotel

This I didn’t know prior to my arrival.  My room is simple with the only amenities I need, a bed and a bathtub.  It is now nearly 6:00 pm and I am starving.  I cross the Liffey river by way of the temple bridge.  No pub food, not tonight.  The Gourmet Burger Kitchen.  More vegetarian choices than I can decide upon.  Falafel with homemade chili sauce, raita, fresh tomato, lettuce and red onion.  Best burger I have ever had!  I wander down cobblestone streets, a brightly painted pub on every corner.

I venture into the Temple Bar and listen to soulful Irish ballads and pop hits from America.  When I enter the Quay Bar the men are gathered around the T.V. watching a football game and drinking beer.  I decide this is a good spot to have my first ever Guinness.  I guess I needed to go to Dublin before I indulged.  The bartender makes sure I understand that it has to sit before it gets its second pour and then once it has formed a perfect foamy head I am allowed ceremoniously to take my first sip.  I love the ritual of course but the taste is even better!  I end the evening at the Knightsbridge Pub adjacent to the Arlington.  The music begs my body to move, but no one’s dancing.  Hand clapping seems to be the preferred show of enjoyment.  Two young, spirited and dark haired beauties join me at the bar.  Anya and Barbara are longtime friends and spent a year living together in Melbourne.  We have an interesting conversation about the existence of spirits and the gift of sight, the economy, immigration woes in Ireland, the beauty of travel etc.  They give me kudo’s for traveling alone.  This gypsy is at home where ever her feet land.

The Temple Bar

I still have no return ticket. Through a constellation of uncertain events I will find my way. The only thing I do know is that I will board a train in Dublin bound for Galway. It is not a hospitable time to go, as it rains more in February than in any other month, and is miserably cold. Tourists are wise enough to wait until late spring and summer to make their way to this seaside destination. Gratefully I am a traveler, travelers don’t depend on ideal conditions, we tend to thrive in anything but.

Galway is known as the “City of Tribes”, steeped in tradition, it is Ireland’s cultural heart. Gaeilge, the native mother tongue is still spoken here. The city is famed for having more images of mermaids than any other place in Ireland. Mermaids have always held a special place in my psyche, as I too have felt only partly human, living between two worlds.

As some of you may have remembered from earlier writings, the western coast of Ireland is where the location astrologer was certain I would find my true home, and spiritual tribe. He wisely knew to pin me, to a place where gypsies roam, and fairies fly.

His proclamation was not a surprise as it has been a dream of mine since I was a child to go to the land of mists, a haven for mystics and the spiritually inspired. Ireland is an in-between place, where the veil thins, where the seen and the unseen merge, and where people with “the sight”, are a natural resource. I will be amongst my kind. A geography historically occupied by spiritual adepts and those who possess high esoteric knowledge. The legendary druids, the Tuatha De Danann, as well as seers, musicians, poets and healers, lay claim to this lineage. It is a place steeped in mythical lore. Will my ancestral roots unearth, my clan claim me as their own? Will Brigit, “the exalted one” initiate me into the mysteries of my kin?

The beauty of my soul, the grace by which I live fills me with a love so satisfying, so holy. I feel in this moment as if every breath of my existence has been a sacrament. My path is timeless, where all that is, has been, and will be, exists as seamlessly. I dwell silently within the sanctum of my body as Ireland floats, a cloud upon the sea…

santidevi