Letter to my self upon leaving Ireland

Originally Posted 7/6/2017


Letter to my self upon leaving Ireland


Dear Beloved Self,


Always remember the feelings of peace and wonder

from looking intently at a blade of grass,

a dandelion, and a bee,

the sense of community of a group of pilgrims,

a cafe on a cold rainy day,

and a cemetery surrounding monastic ruins.



Remember the holy spaces, the thin places,

where the sky meets the sea and the earth.

Remember the silence and know that you can be a hermit within

anytime.



Remember that you have something to say that is

unique,

important,

and worthwhile.



Remember 3s and 7s, magic numbers,

and 13 pilgrims,

wonderfully warm, strong, adventurous, and thoughtful.


Remember Irish hospitality,

beef stew,

wool sweaters,

and award winning ice cream.



Remember the feelings of belonging,

the ancestors reaching through time to greet me,

saying, "welcome back,

we have waited long years for your return!"



Remember the familiar voices of strangers,

the warmth of the land

with its cold winds and hail,

the sense that I have come home

to a place I have never before traveled.

I have found myself home in a strange land.



Remember that you can always come back

to the peace, love, warmth.

You can always write.

You will always have something to say.

You will always have someone to love.


© Christine Salkin Davis, 2017

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