sufficiency

 

I came here to learn how to be more self-sufficient. I wanted to learn how to grow my own food then watch my hands shape it into something beautiful to share…my hands…finally healing…the deep cracks that burn pulling skin tight at every joint are finally giving way…softened skin by the rain.

It was nearly dry for two weeks. The thick clay turned into dust clinging to every cover as the sun shined so bright for these long 18 hour Summer days…my skin turned pink at my raw shoulders, nose and cheeks…giving way to now tanned freckles following my contours…i hide under my woven hat until I can dive into the mildly salty sea to cool the stinging nettle bites & tension in my muscles.

Our plants grew taller towards the sun, and the harvest has begun: beet root, potatoes, cabbage, courjettes, sugar peas, spinach, broccoli, kale, lettuce, onions, garlic & chard…accompanied by the glistened wild strawberries that I  pick alongside the road on my morning walks… we prayed for rain. 14 days would be too long.

We busily prepared, continuing the paths at the community garden & harvesting from the field, for the Summer’s feast at Solstice… and were rewarded with an outpouring of generosity and warmth as this community continues to welcome our place…we sat surrounded hip-to-hip on the bench that I had placed…&  the sun set on this longest day into the cliifs…hot tea, jest & stories all to be told again, as the family around me grows. I came here to be self-sufficient, but am continually accompanied by the generosity of this community.

My roots deep here now, I had to fight the fear to run again…scared of what I knew I had already let go of in my mind becoming real…as here I’ve had to re-invent myself…I am no longer a pediatric physical therapist…I am a volunteer…a farmer…a cook…a coordinator…a painter…a friend…a sister…an artist…and thus I prepare for what inevitably will be a struggle to make my way…without the security & confines of a career back home.

The fear of the challenges, as well as their rewards, that I know not yet to face…

We cycled 15k up the hills to reach the Cliffs of Moher…a task I knew not how to carry…my legs & back continuing to give way to the ease of a walk along the road…I fell far behind, but was not left alone…we reached the pinnacle, where the dark & brooding jutted rocks break into the lightened! green foam of the sea…I dove in…my body…my heart…my spirit refreshed, knowing that all of my struggles would be worth that moment of bliss… the round black stones, sand & grey slabs of earth to keep me warm…the light of the shadowed sun to keep me moving…the taste of salt upon my lips to keep me nourished.

I have to make my own way…but I have the love & support of this community…& it’s amazing how just to be there makes all the difference as we bear down to build up our humble beginnings…to create something that can sustain its own self for generations to come…a flourishing garden where there once was nothing but mangled, thorned brush…a field of lush green, black gold & life giving! where there once was nothing but salted earth…a home of light and love…where there will always be.

The rain did come & I welcomed its cool life back into mine…softly against my face…jeans soaked to my thighs, and falling off my now defined body, the sound of my heartbeat pulsed through my ear…as I walked the road alone…5 miles to reach the comfort of the sound of loose gravel under my wellies…a challenge I knew not yet how to face…but done…one step continually in front of the other…with a song to carry me…from every end of this earth I have come…to find my home.

 

 

the leap…

As much as the weeds that I work hard to free, my roots here have grown deeper…deeper than I ever imagined as I feel as if I have reached a pinnacle, albeit at the foot of the mountain, of where the dreams that I have held so deeply in life, all along this path…this path in which every one and every experience…every risk, every reward…every failure, and every recovery…intertwined below the surface and rising up beyond the ground, to create a vibrant new green growth in the earth, reaching out and above towards the sun, & strengthened by the life surrounding it.

It grows along this path. A path that I have built, shared and shaped with the work of our hands…infinite…there is no set end point, or destination as it divides, winds and only can follow the natural rise and fall of the contours of this earth…stopping only to create a space to rest…where the energy of the ocean and the sky and land all below gather…with wonder, amazement, promise and peace.

I created a path,  and it invested me in the community here at Moy Hill. I saw my heart’s work that I put into the ground come to life…equally shared by those surrounding, their soil enriching me, as we now are all working together to create a full life…a life full of the natural energy from the sun and rain…the warmth of the Summer and the cold of the Winter…the earth and the sea…”In the midst of winter, I finally learned there was an invincible summer in me” 

Our hands now equally covered in the rich brown clay earth…sea-glass green eyes do greet me. We stood at the point where we created a new path and the rain set in to send us for cover…features now darkened just as varied as the skies…but brightened, lighting my way with every kind word of encouragement & smile. My company also often kept by the damp green grass, bare feet, toes and fingers caress…the soft sweetness of the animals fur…& nuzzling kisses from the from the butterscotch cattle, or matted hair of donkey.

I walked the road. Conflicted about leaving the life that I knew behind…returning to the safety and contentment of a career, my loved ones…or take the leap, stay on, get stuck in, & build the life that my heart had been yearning for…& suddenly, slowed down, I noticed the details…after the rain, sharp clear drops on velvety green spades…and with the rising sun, forward light & shadows behind…& I was able to recall my dreams: to be a part of a community in which I could equally contribute my passion, knowledge, kindness and love…to respect and love the earth that provided me with the nourishment of the oceans’ swell and garden’s growth…to share all of these experiences by creating that story to novel, sequestered in my winter’s home…& by building a home for others nourished by the work of our hands… & every other thing under our sun!

Overwhelmed with pure peace that here I had found that, looking down, breathless…my eyes and lungs opened & gave way to the morning herd of butterscotch cattle, as they followed me, affirming in their stares that I was exactly where I am supposed to be in that moment…to let go…settle in…be invested…unafraid to take the leap. 

With the work, many hands and laughs do make light, as cradled in our rows, arms reaching and crossing, we are preparing to harvest & I am learning so much more…With the challenge of mossy green cliffs, black barnacled slabs of rock, & the coolness of the incandescent silver & blue, the ocean opens up it’s arms and welcomes me…With the ebb & flow,the music crescendos  to gravitate and push our shared energies, as our feet stomp & arms cross, encircled in each other…I know now that this is where I can create a home. There’s no need to wander any more. 

With my dear friend, we walked the road…lost in the simple beauty of bright orange and purple clouds pulling the lush green fields inward, closer to beyond the darkened cliffs, now centered…We walked the road…lost in the sounds of the irish word &  stories to be shared: the stories from childhood, the stories of dreams…I felt the innocence of a child again. 

Then surrounded by fields of thistle, buttercup & daisy, and protected by the strong pine, we stumbled upon an abandoned farm house, with deep trenches, flourishing ivy, & steps to climb empty rooms & corridors…& rusted green iron wheel pulleys mounted to the walls, the mechanics turning the dreams in our minds.

It was beautiful to see someone so inspired by what they could too could create for their own dreams, as I am here now trying to live mine…not for anyone else or under any other influence…without any expectation or want…I am simply just being present in the here and now. There are many challenges that face me. I am applying for a lay volunteer visa so that I may stay on past 90 days and I will need to return home to tie-up loose ends…but I am bound and determined to be a part of this community, with our goal to create something at Moy Hill that is sustainable and nourishing. I have enjoyed so much already of what I can create: from goats milk ice cream to a bench to a raised bed to grow my food…and what I want to learn how to create: from baskets to bread to a sail and to my own garden one day, no matter where I am. I am simply where I am now and so very grateful for the opportunity to provide my insight, experience and keen attitude to see this dream through.

I walked the road this morning and came across a neighbour, Michael…he was picking through his garden & asked if I could be of any help. I saw rows of carrots that I knew now how to thin, planters of strawberries that I knew now how to groom, and could feel that I was already giving back to this community that has already given me so much. Words cannot even describe the hospitality and kindness shown here in County Clare…I hope you will all come and experience it for yourselves…and fear not your own leap of gratitude:)

 

 

 

 

where the wild things grow…

It’s a day of rest for me here at Lackamore…the house on the hill where I have been accommodated in exchange for my labor… Bua the pup & a continual cup of green tea is at my side while I try to keep the fire going to stay warm. There’s a pot of vegetable stew that brews red from the beetroot that now also stains my hands…deepened in the trenches of my weather and earth-worn tools. It’s sure to stain my cracked lips but to also bring more warmth to my reddened cheeks. It’s also certain to nourish my tired muscles as its’ substance was gathered from the very earth my hands have touched.

Outside the rain falls softly while the winds howl from the east dancing the blades and brush that were highlighted by the sun yesterday. When it stops, I can hear the birds and tractors again. This is June in Ireland.

I arrived into Dublin last Saturday: lethargic after poisoning myself with the craving for a bacon cheeseburger…one last american meal before I would immerse myself into the fruit of my labor in these Irish fields…rookie vegetarian mistake but I’ve since recovered. I wasn’t exactly sure where I would be staying, but I knew that my first destination was Lehinch in County Clare. I knew that there was a group of surfers there that had started a community garden & I was inspired. I wanted to learn how to grow my own food amongst a community of shared values, and I wanted to surf in emerald waters. I felt ever so fortunate that Fergal Smith offered me this opportunity, and then a lift after stepping off the bus from Gallway.

In March, when I first came across the work that they were doing here, I felt an immediate connection and need to leave the discontent that I had felt at home. I allowed myself to once again sink into the darkness, feeling overwhelmed by the mad dash of a consumer and material society, and isolated. I did not feel connected to my home, my work or those around me. I was disappointed. I was lonely…and so Ireland became my path, my connection, my comfort…

& so I affirmed a transformation along this path that I had already begun: i was disciplined in yoga and mindfulness to begin my day. I began growing my own fruits and vegetables to supplement my meals. I excitedly talked of openness to the universe and shared positive energy. I tried to do or share more with others. & suddenly as the days grew closer to give away and pack up all of my belongings, I was surprised. Before I had even set foot in Ireland, I could feel this connection at the home I had hastily wanted to let go of. I felt happiness. I felt hope. I felt something to come home to, even if I decided to stay.

Despite the most kind hospitality of everyone a part of this “family” here, I felt restless with my first few days…having to dull the knee-jerk reaction to just keep moving, I now feel grateful for staying on and being still as everyday has brought more and more light into my life. With each days’ work, around we share meals of greens plucked fresh from the earth…we lighten the load by sharing the work, the laughs, the sunshine…at home, the field, the garden or sea. In one week already I have experienced so much from my first pint of Guinness at a crowded pub in Doonbeg, to chiming into a drum circle around a bonfire after midnight, to barefoot and blindly walking across a field of bramble and stone with friends to heighten the awareness of feeling…to catching my first waves here to ease my tired back and cleanse my dirt-covered body… Words cannot describe the beauty of the surrounding cascading emerald cliffs and cool atlantic water, nor the pure bliss of wild irish dolphins emerging and piercing the soft jade waves made clear by the above setting afternoon sun, below the surface I hear the resonance in their songs, that all encircle and refresh my very soul.

Equally refreshing are the simple pleasures of a days’ hard work & what an adventure it has been already! In my magic yellow wellies, I’ve pulled weeds for hours, pinched tomato plants, stacked rocks, shovelled shit, planted potatoes, fed chickens, collected eggs, squatted in the bush, built a bridge, created a path and moved PIGS! their powerful snouts pushing into the bucket of feed and me off my feet…I still have much to learn and am so grateful for the hospitality of this community. Together, no task is too small or too big, just as our dreams are for a healthier life and home, & my mind is free to create, my body free to move, and my heart free to share.

I am grateful today, and every day, to be where the wild things grow.