A Pilgrimage of Éire
☘️☘️
Happy Friday all! Part I of Coincidence Speaks is officially off and running. Hopefully it’s been a solid page turner/screen scroller so far. Thank you 1000x for your reading and comments!
Paul and Clara have been through more than enough over the first six chapters, and could probably use a break.
With that in mind, along with the fact that St. Patrick’s Day fast approaches, I put together a short video montage of climbing Croagh Patrick in Ireland two weeks ago. (Clips are ~5 seconds each.)
The mountain’s spiritual significance is said to date back to the Bronze Age, when people gathered there to ritualize the beginning of harvest season. Thousands of people still make the pilgrimage annually to climb “Ireland’s holiest mountain.”
I can’t speak to how holy it is relative to the other ones, but I can speak to its insane weather shifts (from sun to rain to sleet to hail to snow, and then back to sun, all in under ten minutes) and to the fact that my 43 year old knees gave out less than a quarter of the way down. And that when a kind elderly Irish man blew by me on the descent and stopped to ask if I was OK, I got to say the phrase I’d been saving in potentia for over an hour for that exact occasion: “The mountain took my knees - but it didn’a take my spirit.”
The mountain now takes the name of Ireland's famous patron saint, who, according to Christian tradition, fasted at the peak of the mountain for 40 days in 441 AD.
My wife and I didn’t bring any food either.
How it started:
How it went (for me):
How it started (for her):
How it went:
The start of the actual climb (footage to this point was just from the parking lot to the mountain base):
How it ended:
The chapel at the summit - first one built circa 500 AD, modern version in 1905:
Epilogue:
Humor aside and in all truth, this was one of the most magical and sacred experiences of my life. Given the weather element(s), the climb was much more challenging than anticipated, and we both almost turned back on multiple occasions.
The stone pathway leading up the steepest part of the mountain had been lain, by hand, via volunteers who made the climb every day to give others access to the profound beauty of the summit. The stones interlock with such jigsaw puzzle intricacy that my two hundred pound footfalls didn’t shift them one iota.
Hundreds of thousands of footsteps had preceded us over centuries, over millennia, carrying the thoughts and dreams and high emotion of countless sojourners. That energy was palpable, as if it was radiating out of the rock itself. It was the force that kept carrying us upward, through hail and doubt and wind and pain and rain.
The sun came out just before we reached the peak, where we finally found ourselves half a mile in the sky at the top of a quartzite pyramid with a panoramic view of Ireland’s west coast.
Thanks for watching/reading! As this is different media fare than what’s been shared so far, please let me know in the comments what you think. More writing? More video? More Megachonkers? Both? Neither?
Here’s to Spring, ☘️
E.T. Allen
Suffering has always been a major component of a pilgrimage. Through out history , we can find stories of people, crawling on their hands and knees to complete their task or journey. Seriously, you did not bring food ? Did you also share a pint of water between you? Well of course you ‘became one’ with the collective journey of those who have been called by the mountain. Not bringing ‘fuel to feed the furnace’ as a seasoned hiker might say, was the perfect ingredient to have an authentic pilgrimage, suffering both emotional and physical. Poor knees, I sincerely hope that your knees do not continue to tell the tale ( “ ever since you took me on that hike…”).
In truth, an ancient stone path carefully placed , sculpted by weather and time. It’s once jagged corners now smoothed and molded sometimes just by the hands of other travelers who may have reached down for support or rest.
“That energy was palpable, as if it was radiating out of the rock itself.”
And who’s to say that stone does not have the ability to hold memories. The gorgeous view , was the ‘icing on the cake’.
Which I hope you both shared for dessert.
One vote for your wonderful short stories with pictures to enhance.
What an experience! I've been fascinated by sacred mountains for a long time. Good to know that we don't have to travel to Tibet, Mongolia or Mount Fuji to meet one.
Quite a brave venture to walk in the pilgrim's footsteps at this time of year. I certainly enjoyed the visual sharing of your journey (including the good Irish pub meal at the end).
Having been at home in West Penwith (Cornwall) for 13 years, and visited Wales on various occasions I have an affinity with the Celtic landscape and am familiar with the insane weather shifts (would have probably preferred to stay home with a pot of tea instead of dodging sleet, hail and snow). It always awakens that untranslatable feeling called 'saudade' in Portuguese.