It angers me when I see Ireland solely portrayed as the mystical, magical island that She of course is. There’s a whole lot more to the story that lives out upon these coveted lands.

This anger rumbles deep within me, like a suppressed volcano that is waiting, waiting, for His time to erupt and spew out newly born molten lava flares from the mouth of The Mother. It surprises me when it arises. I feel a certain kind of protectiveness over these lands, just like the protectiveness I feel over my children and all that is precious and sacred in my life.

I visited the Famine Monument last month when I went home to Dublin. As I stood there witnessing the plight of 1,490 tenants forced to leave their home and, in May 1847, walk 165 km to Dublin docks.

It was part of an “assisted emigration scheme” organised by their landlord from where they took the coffin ship to Quebec in this instance, to start a new life.

The landlord, after evicting them, tore down their houses to make sure that they could not return. With rations of sugar, tea and bread, they made this epic journey, carrying and supporting each other as best they could.

There’s an ache in the bellies of the Irish Psyche.

Pangs of hunger in the Irish heart.

A worn forlornness born out of a land that’s been torn apart throughout history over the eons.

Divided and conquered.

Suppressed and oppressed.

Lands stolen and dominated making it illegal and dangerous to practise the indigenous crafts and speak the native tongue.

Gaeilge.

An Teanga.

The soul voice of the land.

Mythology distorted; stories changed to suit the intentions of the writers.

I feel this deeply. It’s hard to know where to start or end with the story of our land, and of course it is an eternal spiral of death and rebirth. Carved into the stones as symbolic messages to decode and share.

So I ask you, Éiriú, how can I best honour you and my ancestors at this time?

She replies:

Be our voice.

Speak our stories.

Honour our flesh and bones upon native soil. Home grown on the lands of Éiriú.

Don’t shy away from what’s painful.

Don’t use the name of Ireland to profit only your pockets.

Turn gently towards all of that painful history that’s still embedded in the bones of the collective.

Make it ok to speak about these wounds – the colonial wounds and all these wounds deeply felt by the people of Ireland.

When you speak this loosens the density of the shame and silence that’s holding these lands captive. This sets your cells free organically, naturally repairing your DNA as the pain releases and returns to earth source to be transmuted home to truth.

***

During the times of the Great Hunger / The Irish Famine / An Gorta Mór, when a blight caused the potato crop to fail over many years during the 1800’s, millions died. Millions emigrated. Many died on those coffin ships. Those that arrived alive experienced hardship, racism, abuse and became enslaved by the systems and structures on these new lands. Others merged with the new ways and became very successful.

So many of us feel this ache of being exiled from ancestral lands.

Souls split apart.

Severed from indigenous Irish roots at the attempted soul stripping of the land.

An entire nation suppressed and silenced.

So when you tread upon these shores of the Emerald Isle, our door is always open to welcome you, and, please remember all those who have gone before you.

Dearest Éiriú,

It’s painful to write about these topics. Of the eons of heart ache and heart break. Yet I’m here now to honour my ancestors in the best way that I can.

I feel the blight that sits upon these coveted lands and I walk with you to heal home to whole soul truth with each and every step I take, soles to soil, on my individual soul journey at this time.

Will you pick up the flag in their honour now?

Will you bear witness to these wounds within you?

Can you reconcile all these exiled soul parts by calling each and every one of them home?

In the words of Laura Eisenhower “We have to have clear truth in order to heal.”

In honour to all of you at this Samhain threshold moving into Winter Solstice.

Eimear x

PS: Support yourself at this threshold time with these online products that are still at my birthday special reduced price over the course of this holiday season. Click here to check them out.

#LettersFromIreland #Éiriú #AnGortaMór #MysticalIreland