Ireland and Imbolc

It's somewhere I've wanted to go, for most of my life. The stone circles of Ireland, scattered about the country, is something I have wanted to see, to watch the sun come up over, on the high holidays for going on twenty years. And it's something I still want to do, someday.

For me, personally, I would have liked to make it there for Yule or Litha, followed by Samhain if at all possible. But any of the holidays would have done, the equinoxes, Beltaine, Lughnassadh, Imbolc. Any one of them would have sufficed.

People I trust, whose opinions matter to me, have told me that there's magic there. That's it is so bright that you can almost breathe it in, and taste it. The world is so vibrantly green and glossy that no photograph will ever do it justice, and that the shimmering life in the air and in the soil is something unspoiled and pure.

And I want to see that, and taste and feel it. I want to go, and be a part of that, for a little while. And I want to watch that sun come up across the ruins of the stone circles of Ireland, where the druids danced in celebration of the Gods, and feel the magic that's still there.

Perhaps I'm not as open and in-your-face as some, perhaps I'm not as expressive, about the things I care about. That doesn't mean that they aren't a part of me. I guess I forget that sometimes, to let out some of the more hidden bits of myself. Yes, I'd like to go and sit on a hillside, and enjoy the stone dance. Perhaps even dance myself. To think about the dreams I have, and the dreams to be, and all of the aspects of life, while in Ireland, and to stand where countless others have stood before me, and embrace the same things.

To feel their pain, and their sorrow, and their love, and their joy. And let it cycle through me and past me, and to be a part of all of it. Because it's all part of who I am, because I can't be anything more or less than that.

I have run from it, fought it, tried to break it and myself, and in the end, accepted it. And finally embraced it, and me, to become who I am now. And that's a good thing.

But I want to stand there, and look. I want to dance, and live, and love. And just be me. So perhaps not this year. Maybe it won't be next year. But I will make it there, and it will be during a festival day, a day to dance, and celebrate life.