I drove my beloved Anam Cara, soul friend, to the airport this morning and am now breathing into some time alone to visit with friends, explore opportunities that are unfolding, and catch up on writing. So many insights and stories collected in these past weeks. Now time to write.
On my way to Spiddal for time with dear friends I stopped off at the Craft Center where Flor, another friend who is a much sought after artist and sign painter, was atop a ladder applying finishing touches to a mural. At his suggestion I wandered into the t-shirt shop. While I’ve visited other shops in the Craft Center many times I’ve never been called to this one. As I scanned the shirts with Irish writing, I stopped at one that said, It’s Ireland. We speak Irish. Get over it. A perfect, if pointed, sentiment that has been dancing at the edge of my consciousness these past few weeks.
It’s Ireland. There is a rhythm and texture of life here, especially in the west, that eschews much of the frenetic consumer culture we live in the US. While they admire much that is American they don’t apsire to be American. They are, in fact, quite happy to be Irish – to live their culture that has evolved through thousands of years. It is perhaps easy to encounter this rhythm, pace, and perspective and consider it less than what it could be or should be when viewed through the lens of our culture. This arrogance can be stunning.
It’s Ireland. There is much to learn from this place and these people. If we can get over ourselves.
Judith – firstname.lastname@example.org