I don’t spend much time shopping in Ireland. I especially avoid anything that looks like a mall. As friend Anthony observed recently, if you’ve seen one shopping center you’ve seen the mall. But this last trip I did wander into a Dunne’s store. Well, it is located near one of my favorite coffee shops.

It was approaching Halloween and I was drawn to a costume display, curious what Irish children favor for the holiday. Turns out, witches. Hands down. Yes, there are other choices. But the array of witchy attire was stunning.

Halloween. Samhain. The beginning of the new year on the Celtic calendar. It’s gratifying to see the wise woman tradition still alive in some wee way. So….boo who? Boo. I’m a witch!

Beannacht,
Judith – judith@stonefires.com

Decades ago, Sly And The Family Stone encouraged us to Dance To The Music. And we do, of course. Because is there another way? The band plays and we step out on the dance floor in whatever figure and fashion is suggested by the melody.

But there is another way. Sitting around the turf fire at Doolin Music House, Christy tells another story. In the tradition of house dances the music is in service to the dancers. If the dancers determine that one among the musicians was not up to the task, they would ask him – and it was generally hims back then – to stop playing. And without question, they did. It was not a case of dancing to the music, it was playing music to the dance.

I sit in the cacophonic noise of the media that surrounds us these days, especially prior to this election. The noise of social media. And it strikes me, pun intended, that more and more we are dancing to this music. Whatever steps this noise suggests. But we are the dancers. We are dancing our lives. What might be possible if we determined the music that best supports our steps? What might be possible if we shut off the discordant music?

Beannacht,
Judith – judith@stonefires.com

Peeking out from under the table as a young lad, he would watch their feet fly. Mesmerized by the movement. Inspired by the music. Enchanted by the rhythm of the nails, embedded in the soles of their shoes, on the flagstone floor.

One of the delights of my current travels in Ireland is spending an evening with Christy Barry in his home. An intimate audience. A turf fire burning at one end of the living room, Christy and James playing music at the other. Christy’s wife Sheila serving drinks and open face salmon sandwiches. And the stories. For we are not just here for the music of two of Ireland’s best traditional musicians. We are also here for the stories. Stories of a musical heritage.

Christy and James, who have played together since they were twenty-one and that was more than a few years ago, grew up in this west Clare landscape. And they remember well the nights when neighbors would gather in thatched roofed cottages to dance from dark to dawn. Gathering after long days of working, the men cutting stone in the nearby quarries, they would dance through the night and return to work the next morning.

Having heard Christy’s stories several times now, when he and James play I can close my eyes and see the dancers. Filling the room with their movement. Sharing the rhythm of music and flying feet on hearth stones. Creating the rhythm of community. Within this rhythm how could their hearts not beat as one? What might be possible if we created such rhythm in our communities?

I invite you to step into this experience through the following video. You will be re-directed to watch on YouTube…and it’s well worth it. “Well, well. You’re all very welcome…”

Beannacht,
Judith – judith@stonefires.com

As it is with indigenous people around the world, the Irish people have deep roots. They share a heritage of culture, history, civil codes, and traditions passed through generations, firmly woven in their psyche, and deeply rooted in the land. This ancient knowing is reflected in their relationship with the sacred, community, and the Earth. It is a knowing being manifest at Standing Rock. Deep roots. A strong tree.

I am so aware of this when I am in Ireland with her buildings that are older than the United States and megalithic landscapes that are older than Christianity.

For those of us whose recent ancestors emigrated to this country, blow-ins, the Irish would call us, our roots here are shallow. Yes, we individually reach back to our indigenous origins. But collectively we have not yet established a deep root system. We haven’t yet had the time.

In a storm, trees with shallow roots are the first to fall. And it looks like we Americans have a storm coming in the aftermath of this presidential election. It’s daunting to think that our tree might fall. But I choose to believe that, as shallow as they may currently be, the roots we have established are nurtured by a fertile ground of democracy and diversity, justice and inclusion, compassion and a creative spirit. A ground that will hold our tree fast as we, together, continue to put down deep roots.

Beannacht,
Judith – judith@stonefires.com