Skye: Deep Calls To Deep: 7

Today, 15 October, was my last full day on Skye, and tomorrow I start the two-day journey back home. In all of this I have been moved by the energy, light and love, the presence of the ancestors, of angels and fae, and That Which Is Larger Than Us. Iona and Skye a two very different, but two equally, very ‘thin places’.

Today I just walked. There was no schedule or agenda. And as I walked the thought of rhythms came to me. We, each move at a different pace, to a different rhythm or tune, but what a wonderful symphony we make when we all come together. Not all can be flautists, not all can be percussionists, but though these are metaphors of our individuality, we can be what we are meant to be – whatever that is. 

There is a different rhythm on this Isle of Skye to the Isle of Iona, and it will be different to,the rhythm you and I experience where we are, right now. But that’s to be expected. And there is nothing wrong, and no difficiency experienced so long as we are aware that the rhythm we move to in our daily life is just one of many available to us. Depending how,you view it, there is our mechanistic rhythm as we work, but,  you are more. There is the natural rhythm of nature which beckons is (in trees and flowers, sunsets and the seasons), and there is the rhythm of,the body, the soul, the spirit, and the Spirit. And, perhaps all these are many  facets of one Immortal Diamond.

I’ve been aware of the energy, light and love, the presence of the ancestors, of angels and fae, and That Which Is Larger Than Us on this pilgrimage. And I hope you have, too, because you have been with me on,this journey. And it still goes on in your dreams I.

I start my journey back tomorrow, amd will have a couple days to ‘acclimatise’ and will the re-start writing articles most weekdays. Over the next few weeks some of those articles will ‘unpack’ some experiences I had on those two wonderfully ‘thin places’, amd I will include more photographs – Iona’s internet connection wasn’t quite up to speed for photographs. And also, over the next few weeks I’ll outline and start some of events, websites, workshops etc, thst were on my mind before the pilgrimage and were confirmed. At the very end of this article I want to share with you, that you were with me and were very much on that pilgrimage as I was, and our wonderful journey together, goes on and on and on….

Blessings from Iona, that Isle of Druids, and light and love from Skye be yours, Tadhg

PS: Next article will be Thursday.

Skye: Deep Calls To Deep: 6

Having left the Isle of Iona, today was my first full day of the wonderful Isle of Skye. Last evening as I drove across the Bridge of Skye I kept a moments silence as I ‘greeted’ the island and it welcomed me. And then, I couldn’t help it. As I drove the car, whether it was a moment of flippancy or (more than likely) a spiritual passion at having arrived, I couldn’t help but sing the Skye Boat song to a traditional Scottish tune, as loud as I could. I laughed and it felt good.

Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing

Onward the sailors cry.

Carry the lad that’s born to be king

Over the sea to Skye.

So, today was my first full day on Skye. The Isle of Skye is as mythical, magical, and as deep and profound as the Isle of Iona. Here, too, is the Source of All, energy, the memory and presence of the ancestors, and it too, is a wonderfully ‘thin place’. 

I’m staying in Portree, and in common with these islands, nature wild and rugged is never far away. And so I walked in a green-grey landscape (wonderfully part-grass, bracken and gorse covered hills and grey, huge, mountains), and thought, and meditated, and in my spirit went to that place, ‘ Out [there] beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense.’

I walked and the wind howled, and in the wind That Which Is Larger Than Us’, spoke words beyond words and imagining. In such cases the analytical brain is of no use. All that one need do, indeed all that one can do, is to remain silent and be ‘bathed’ in words that have been spoken since before the universe was called into being. That Voice speaks to us all – to you, as you read this, as you’re here with me on this pilgrimage – and the Voice never stops. Wherever we are, we are in communion with the Voice.

And then, as I followed the path, and turned a corner, the Old Man of Storr came into view. 

The weather was getting worse – the wind was picking up and the rain had increased, and thinking of some of the steep slopes I had navigated in getting this far, common sense dictated that I should go no further. I stopped.. That rocky pinnacle, some 165ft (50m) high and pointing skyward was about 1/3 mile away, and it looked awesome. I stopped and just gazed in silence. In awe.

As I’m travelling and my iPad isn’t synchronised to my camera, I’ve got a directed link of the Old Man of Storr: see here

There is a story that says that the Old Man of Storr was a giant who had lived in Trotternish Ridge. When he was buried, his thumb was left jutting out the ground, creating the famous jagged landscape. There are some who think that that isn’t the giant”s thumb, but another part of his anatomy – but I’m too polite to mention it here: but please email me for details.

But there are other stories. One tells of a brownie – a Scottish hobgoblin – who is said to have done good deeds for a family he chose to serve. On Skye, it is said that a man called O’Sheen saved the life of a brownie and the two became good friends. O’Sheen died from a broken heart following the death of his beloved wife , and the devastated Brownie took it upon himself to chisel two rocks – one in memory of O’Sheen and a smaller one to remember his wife.

And, so I headed back to Portree, a little wiser, and having experienced the might and majesty of the Old Man of Storr, and witness nature wild and rugged, and it was good.

Yes, the Isle of Skye is a wonderfully ‘thin place’, that has an effect on the individual far beyond mere words, and that ‘viriditas’ is not only accessible here, but is present where you are, right now.

Iona: Deep Calls To Deep: 5

Reflection: 12 October 2017. Today is my last full day on Iona. I just had to revisit St Oran’s Chapel and a few other places, again. But, I also wanted to visit a hill just five minutes or so from where I’m staying, and just a few minutes short of the Machair.

On the Isle of Iona, this Isle Of Druids, surrounded by great, craggy, huge prominences this small hill – probably fifty feet across and thirty feet high, is easy to overlook. And yet, it is so significant. It is known by various names, Cnoc nan Angeal or The Hill of Angels, and to some it is Sitheon Mor or the Hill of the Fair (the Fairy Hill).

It is a place of deep connection, another ‘thin place’ on an island that is itself a ‘thin place’. For several millennia before St Columba/Columcille set foot on the island, Druids,and others would come here, to this very hill that overlooks the sea, and would commune. Whatever name they used, and however they saw that connection, something too place then, and it takes place, still. Encounter.

When St Columba/Columcille set foot on the island at Pentecost in AD563, it,is recounted by Adomnan writing some years later, that Columcille would regularly climb this hill and converse with angels. It is a place of power, energy, a place that is liminal, both straddling this world and the Other.

I just had to climb to the top of Sitheon Mor. And I’m glad I did. Did I hear the fae or Angels. Not directly. But I do believe the spirit converses with spirit, and though we may be unaware now, in years to come through memory or when we are ‘there’ and the ‘blinkers are off’ we will know then that we have (indeed wherever we are, and not just at Sitheon Mor) been in the company of the Fae, Angels, That Which Is Larger Than Ourselves etc, and always have been.
But, right now as I stand on the brow of the hill, and with the wind ‘moaning’ it sounds very much like the murmurs of the Fae or Angels speaking to me.

But, then I am born into this time and it is so easy to distance myself from spiritual reality by saying the wind sounds like the voices of elementals and Angels. In using the word ‘like’ I have distanced myself – it is like, but not exactly so! So, writing as others would have written in times gone by, as I stand on this hill, I will be so bold as to say, the voices of the Fae and Angels come in the howling of the wind and speak to us. There , I’ve said it. And, if you’re reading this, then you too, are with me in spirit and are part of this wonderful and ongoing conversation that Druids, Columcille and others have had.

It’s now getting late, and so I’m leaving Sitheon Mor. Tomorrow, I head for toward the Isle of Skye, but with the firm promise of coming back to this Isle of myth and magic, a place the speaks to all those who have ears to hear, this very ‘thin place’. Iona.

Iona: Deep Calls To Deep: 4

Reflection: 11 October 2017. Today, with the weather was mild for a small island, but still cloudy, overcast and with that sea-breeze ever-blowing, and being suitably kitted out I headed , this morning, to the Machair. The Machair (which means ‘raised beach’ and pronounced ‘makker’) is about an eight minute walk from where I’m currently staying, and it is an awesome place.

I wanted nature raw and wild, journeyed to encounter, and sought to bathe myself in the spiritual, and this area is suffused with it all, and more. As I walked along the beach, with the waves crashing into some mighty rocks with a thunderous noise, the wind howling like a moan, constant and ‘bracing’ it is easy, it seems, to forget ‘modern ways’, and that’s exactly what I wanted to do. The island is a liminal spot on the map, a threshold between Here and There, and though the natural forces of physics still apply, there is the perception and awareness of a murmor, a whisper, an energy of something deeper at work. Could it be that this is always the case wherever we are, but that our awareness changes, and in such a ‘thin place’ as this awareness is heightened?

Here, I found nature raw and wild, encountered the Source, and was bathed in deep spirituality – or rather , it found me. I say it, because I can’t use he or she to describe it, but what is here (and where you are) is ‘personal’ and goes far beyond our imagination and limiting words. The sea roared and I felt power. The wind howled and it was as if I could hear the voices and joyous songs of those who had gone before – Celts, Christian, Druids and others. This is aptly named ‘the Isle of Druids”. ‘All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well,’ said the Lady Julian, one of my favourite mystics, and here, right now, away from,the ‘hub-bub’ of ‘modern life’ another voice can be heard saying the same. This  Voice is all-powerful, it is Love, and it is encapsulates all that we are and more – us, the good times, the not-so-good times, it embraces everything and makes something wonderful out of it all. All things really do work to the good.

I walked for hours, thinking, meditating and just ‘resting’ in that place ‘…beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing…’ said Rumi, ‘I will meet you there….’. And, at this place, the Machair, you (reading this) were with me, but there’s more. It was as if time meant nothing, and those that had gone before us (and perhaps those yet to be born into our families) were here in this place, altogether, in this liminal space, this ‘thin-place’. Yes!

Whatever the speed of our lives, whatever events are taking place, the ‘tune’ of the modern world may be one that we need to listen to, to operate in our workplaces and in the ‘modern’ world, but wherever we are, there is another ‘tune’. Rather, it is the muted drumbeat of Life itself, that, if we pause, listen intently, meditate, we can still hear it and heed its calling. The Voice speaks still in a myriad of ways, whatever name we give it. The Voice speaks and mentions you by name, fellow pilgrim, and truly deep calls to deep.

Iona: Deep Calls To Deep: 3

Reflection: 9&10 October 2017: 9 October was another travelling day – a 210 mile car drive, a ferry to the Isle of Mull, a fifty-minute across the island on its circuitous road from one port to another, and then another ferry to the Isle of Iona.

I stepped off the ferry (9 October) onto the the Isle of Iona, that Isle of Druids, at 6.30pm. Spiritual? Nature? Profound? As I stepped onto Iona the wind howled, the temperature seemed just a little above refrigerator temperature, and it was raining. It was cloudy and darkness was looming.

I knew well the ‘s’ shaped trek of over a mile, and through rugged and hilly terrain that I was to take, and with failing light, I set off. The instructions were clear: you’ll go through several gates along the way, please ensure you close them once through. I did so.

And then I had to go through a gate that had a sign on it: ‘Beware of the bull’. I had hoped that this was some kind of joke, but my pace quickened nevertheless. And, then it slowed. There was a bull, and the bull was seventy-feet it front of me. A huge, dare I say ‘ginger-coloured, hulking bull. As calmly as I could I plotted a wide half-circle around him – I wish I had paid more attention to geometry at school. I then noticed that the bull, fortunately, was more interested in the cows in a neighbouring field. So, I arrived at the next gate quicker than expected, but very relieved.

Today, 10 October, by contrast I walked the thirty minutes from the cottage where aim staying to St Oran’s Chapel, and a few yards further on to the Abbey. The Chapel is a simple stone building, with little inside except a rough altar, a rough cross, and one of those light-a-candle-rack in the corner. The room was simplicity itself. Hewn of rugged stone, it bore none of the niceties of modern-day living, modern-day church buildings, and it was dark and it was dusty. 

And, yet it ‘glowed’ with energy and power, and the songs of monks and pilgrims permeated from its walls as whispers. I was surrounded by a cloud of witnesses. As you read this, you are with me, and so I am not afraid to admit that as I lit a candle for all those that had ‘gone ahead’ – my parents, my ancestors, and those who have ‘passed on’ that you know by name – I sobbed like a child. Not because of sadness, though I’m sure that we all miss them, but tears of love and anticipation. In this place they don’t seem far away. They continue on, and one day we will all be united. This place transcends any denomination or faith. It testifies to Life itself and in all its many and varied forms. This small, dark, dusty room on a remote Scottish Island shouts that out, loud and clear. Those Christians knew this, and the Druids and others before them.

Spiritual? Natural? Profound? Oh yes. The bad weather when I stepped of that ferry, the bull, this wonderful ‘thin place’, St Oran’s Chapel with the varied faith of many down the centuries, indeed the whole is island, this Isle of the Druids is a deeply spiritual, natural and profound place – and you, in one way or another, are with me now.

Blessings Tadhg

Iona: Deep Calls To Deep: 2

Reflection: Day 2: 8 October 2017: I’ve just awoken from a wonderful restful night’s sleep in a Travelodge in Helensburgh on the western coast of Scotland. The room overlooks the sea. To say the air is bracing is an understatement. It’s cloudy and they’re thick grey clouds, too. The temperature has dropped, and there’s some ‘drizzley’ raining the air, but it is absolutely wonderful. Nature raw and wild. It’s good to be alive, to be aware, and to…be in your company in a deep, spiritual way as you join me on this pilgrimage.

I am amazed at the number of people involved in our journeys. Not just mine, but yours. Our physical journey, our daily journeys and our spiritual journey back Home. Seen or unseen there are ‘armies’ of helpers, some of which we are aware and some not.

Family and friends daily engage with us and support us, those in the services (police, fire, hospital etc) work away tirelessly in the back ground, at the Travelodges that I’m staying in, their are a myriad of people that work away to make my stay a good one. Thankyou, Travelodge.

But, what of the unseen spiritual forces for good? When Israel was in exile it learned about intermediaries and called them Angels, messengers. Others know them by other names. To Celts, Druids and Pagans and others, especially the romantic people there are the fae, dryads, tree-spirits, sprites, the bŵg (to us Welsh guys) and the spirit of the place, or the Spirit. Whatever, we call them they are there, sometimes working for us without reward, and without complaint.

As I drive toward Oban tomorrow (9 October) my aim is to be (more) aware of, and more appreciative of the seen and unseen people, and the unseen spiritual and benevolent beings who assist us on our way and my encouragement is that maybe you could do the same.

Tomorrow will be ‘gratitude’ day as I finally step onto the Isle of Iona, that Isle of Druids. More about that soon. Deep calls to call.

Blessings, Tadhg
(Photographs will appear from 9 October as Iona ‘comes into view’) 

Iona: Deep Calls To Deep: 1

Reflection on Day 1: 7 October 2017. Today I drove from London to where I stayed overnight, to a Travelodge in Burton in the Lake District. I have to admit although I get some of my deepest thought during long car rides, the motorways of the UK, and maybe other places, too, are not generalLy the most inspiring if you go by eyesight perception.

And yet…

And Travelodges? The good thing about them is you know what to expect. The not-so-good thing is you know what to expect. There are no surprises.

And yet…

And yes, you may have noticed a bare-bones approach to this article. It seems I was too confident in planning to install the usual photo and appropriate banner head for each day, but I am hoping the text will make up for loss of picture.

And yet…

In all of this, the journey so far has been good. I mentioned about having some of my best thoughts on long drives, and this thought just wouldn’t leave me, yesterday. Apart from,the fact that in a metaphorical, and yes, in a deeper and more profound way you are all with me on this journey, the thought about ‘heading to’ and ‘heading away’ wouldn’t leave me.

As regards what I, what we, are ‘heading to’? That is a mystery and something to be enjoyed and fascinated by in equal measure. The thought ‘heading away’ was easier as I drove along the motorway. Each mile put more distance between my starting point and my present position, and the place names became more unfamiliar, even the air temperature dropped, and some people here have the strangest of accents – as if I don’t, to them!

And yet…

It was definitely a ‘heading away’ day. On this pilgrimage it seems that what lay ahead is deepened, may only take place, if there is a shedding! And, yesterday was that kind of day. Not all things, but cumbersome things that were holding me back were being shed. Today, I think it will be more of the same.

When a snake sheds its skin it’s because new skin has grown underneath, because it has own grown its former bodily skin. Maybe, in some cases we are the same. Somethings, not all, but somethings that are holding us back, however painfil it is, must be shed…to make way for the new, the stage we find ourselves in, for the next step on our ever-changing level of maturity, the make way for the mysterious, and for the Mystery.

Tomorrow will be another day of shedding as I journey onward and encounter Scotland in all its glory. Photographs soon.

Blessings, Tadhg

Tadhg’s Ephemera: The Harvest Moon & Rhiannon (Poem)


In ancient Welsh stories, myths, Rhiannon  was a personification of the moon – much as we might talk about the man in the moon, or Chinese people might talk about rabbit in the moon.

In Japanese folklore, a fox, a rabbit and a monkey are accosted in the woods one evening by an old man. Hungry, the old man begs the animals for some food. The monkey gathered nuts, the fox stole some fish, but the rabbit — who ate only grass — had nothing to offer. When the other animals teased the rabbit, he offered himself as a meal and hopped onto the old man’s fire. Deeply touched, the old man gave the rabbit immortal life by placing him on the moon.

A quant story, a good myth, and one that makes us look up at the moon, and wonder.

So, this Thursday, 5 October sees the October full moon in the constellation of Pisces (though it’s on the cusp with Cetus). The moon rising above the horizon in the east, from a London aspect, just after 7pm.

‘God made the two great lights, the greater light to govern the day, and the lesser light to govern the night; He made the stars also.’ Genesis 1:16, The Book

In medieval England this full moon was known as the Blood moon; and to ancient and latter-day Cherokees (so I’m told), it is known as the Harvest moon, to Celts, Celtic Christians and to many of my Druid brothers and sisters it is known as the Harvest moon.

Some time ago I wrote a poem about the full moon:

Like a silver penny stitched onto the dark fabric of the sky,
placed there by the Friend, she shines and takes no rest.
Smiling upon all, faithfully she rises, and moves oh so slowly from west
to east, undiminished.
Ashen light.

Upon all humanity she gazes, and
upon bowed sheaves of corn in lonely fields.
Upon lowing cattle, and a myriad of creatures,
upon sleeping trees with relaxéd arms, she peers.
And, upon valleys deep and mountains high,
this harvest moon is illumined in all her glory,
this night.

Affecting artists, musicians, lovers and humbled souls,
and those who momentarily upward gaze in awe,
she influences cells and seas alike, and vast ocean tides.
The moon is within us all, bright,
and that inner journey, is the enlightening, exhilarating ride.
Inner light.

Tonight, Rhiannon in all her fullness smiles and dances for the Friend;
and the Friend smiles back, and dances, too.
And, you?

Interestingly, 5 October is the feast day of St Murdoc, known as the last of the ancient bard and who lived as a hermit near a lake in Argyleshire, Scotland – and who was famed for compiling the Scottush Menology (Calendar of Saints) in the 8th century.

And on 5 October, King Alfonso VII recognises Portugal as a Kingdom (1143), Spain declares war on England (1796, but we’re friends now), the Jarrow march sets out to London (1936), and the Beatles released their first record, ‘Love me Do’ (in 1965).

A busy time, then, this Thursday in world affairs, today and in the past. And yet, my encouragement is to find time to pause and look up at the smiling moon, and to give thanks. Maybe our prayer, in a world that might be decribed in many places as fractured with wars, rumours of wars, and many killed and injured in Las Vegas and other places, is that the moon, and the Moon-giver, would spill her beauty and smile on a thousand Earthly races, and for peace to prevail.

Sending blessings to you and yours for peace at this time of the full moon.



Twitter Addendum: And, in mentioning busyness, my plans for a pilgrimage to Iona and Skye, in Scotland are gathering pace – I start out on that journey this coming Saturday or Sunday, and would appreciate your well-wishes, light, love and prayers.

If you want to follow my progress do check this page, TadhgTalks (and you’ll find a twitter ‘cartouche’ there with all the latest updates, if you go to the generic page – click large banner photo at the top of the page – rather than an inidivually themed page). Or, you can check my twitter page, direct, daily here. Once there, you’ll also get the opportunity to register to ‘follow’ and receive updates. Let’s stay in touch.


Into The Mist: Preparations For The Journey


After a long absence I finally heeded the call to return to Iona (and then onto Skye) on a short pilgrimage.  Time to reconnect. Time to return, briefly, to where it all started. An opportunity to ‘recharge my batteries’, and to hark the words of the ancestors, that great cloud of witnesses.

Go into the mist.

And now plans are taking shape. It’s so close to the start of the journey, that it’s important for me to concentrate, to prioritise and think about what resources I need and to get them in place, and to be passionate about this excursion. It’s one of those times where total commitment is needed.

I saw you dancing last night on the roof
of your house all alone.

I felt your heart longing for the

I saw you whirling
beneath the soft bright rose
that hung from an invisible stem
in the sky,

So I began to change into my best clothes
in hopes of joining you.

Even though
I live a thousand miles away.

And if
you had spun like an immaculate sphere
just two more times,

Then bowed again so sweetly to
the east,

You would have found God and me
standing so near
and lifting you
into our arms.

I saw you dancing last night near the roof
of this world.


In today’s busy world it’s easy to give up, to kick plans into the ‘long grass’, or listen to others who don’t share the same spirit and commitment to the journey as you.

Don’t give up. Be encouraged.

Ofcourse, the journey may not be a physical journey for you right now. It could be your life-journey or part of it, a new venture, and what you do, what or who you ‘are’, what your calling is, and how you daily live that out.

For me, for a physical journey to Iona there are a number of considerations: check the car is up to the journey (and it is), pack appropriate clothes, maps and a compass are needed, thermos flask, flashlight, appropriate shoes, waterproofs, as well as thinking ahead about where I’ll stay, and more. All, very practical, all very necessary, and liable to become a chore…but I’m not going to allow that, for this is an awesome adventure into the ‘mist’. And, you’ll be pleased to know plans are well underway and I’m getting there.

For the life-journey the things we need in place are wholly different and will change from person to person, and depend on the calling that we’ve each received. But in each case, maybe there are some common questions that can act as hints as to what you and I require for our shared-but-different life-journey.

What is the one thing you do that brings you to life?

What do we require as essentials for our life-calling and working it out each day? Time? Opportunities to research and study periodically? ‘Tools’ such as a musical intrument, stones/palmstones, a book of liturgy, a staff, drum, a labyrinth, incense/’smudge stick’, water, candle etc? Time to mediate and ‘recharge our batteries’, to centre ourself, time to mix with others for mutual support, energy and encouragement, and to socialise? Yes, time to relax – ‘down-time’, however we define it, is important. The list goes on.

You will know what you require; you will know what’s ‘missing’.

And, so it is that in a few minutes I’ll return to preparing for my journey, first to Iona, and then onto Skye in Scotland – did I mention I start that wonderful journey this coming Sunday? I aim to still right articles each day – deo volente – and I hope, still, to hear from you, from those that read articles and comment.

Yes, I’m going to take you with me. Okay, maybe not physically – there are too many of you and some of you are twelve thousand miles away – but, yes, I aim to take you with me. That will be achieved by daily articles, and my new twitter account. And, it will be achieved because, in some strange and mystical way, we’re already connected!

Let’s stay in touch!

Hopefully, my twitter account is working properly now – but if it isn’t I’ve got a few days to sort out the ‘bugs’.

We are pilgrims on a journey,
and companions on the road;
we are here to help each other
walk the mile and bear the load.

(Composer: Richard Gillard Copyright © 1977 Scripture in Song/Maranatha!Music)

But, whatever happens right now – and ofcourse I’d encourage you to do this – you can go to my twitter page online via the link-button on my FaceBook site at any time (about half way down the left-hand column, I think), and once there, there should be a ‘follow’ button. If there isn’t  follow button, you’ll still be able to read updates whenever you return to that page.

Or, you can go to my twitter account now, by clicking here.

You should also be able to see live updates in the twitter ‘cartouche’ in the righthand column of this page on TadhgTalks (though it appears only on the generic page – available by clicking the large banner-photo at the top of the page, and the page which shows several posts. It won’t appear if you go straight to a particular post – so it you’re here and are seeing only one post – this one – please click on the banner photo at the very top to see several posts and then you’ll see twitter updates as they happen in the right-hand twitter ‘cartouche’). Any ‘challenges’ please email me.

I’ve also got a dedicated UK mobile telephone for you to use, to say hi, for queries or well wishes etc – for voice or text – and the provider is giffgaff (free giffgaff to giffgaff calls, I believe).

The mobile number is: 07743 956981

I’d love us to stay in touch, and more so as the time of my trip to Iona draws near and when I’m actually there – and would value your daily good-thoughts, light, love and prayers etc

‘Friends…they cherish one another’s hopes. They are kind to one another’s dreams.’ Henry David Thoreau

But there’s more, and it concerns you. If you’re well advanced in your life-journey and realise your calling, please email me. I’d love to hear from you – iron sharpens iron, and we can learn from each other.

If you’re not quite sure – and it could be that you’re at a junction in life, that another ‘season’ is starting or about to start for you (and it feels like you’re in a ‘mist’), and you would like some good-thoughts sent your way, please contact me. What you have, by way of thoughts about spiritual and practical ‘tools’ that work for you (or, that you require), do let me know as will assist me over the next few weeks in formulating how TadhgTalks can further assist you and others, and enable us to work together. You can comment here in all cases, or email me at:

‘The mist becomes a visible cloak that conceals that which is ordinarily seen, while another invisible cloak is removed, making that which is usually invisible visible.’ Frank MacEowen, The Mist-Filled Path

Now, where’s my sun factor 40 sun cream?

‘Thin Places’ In The City: Poem


Atop a high mountain or in the dark valley below,
in the corner of your room,
or in the hustle and bustle of the busy city centre,
may you find a ‘thin place’.

It is a place, or time, or event so unique, so full of wonder, so sublime.
A place where Heaven and earth collide,
and the diaphanous veil of separation is unusually thin.
A time where you can almost feel angelic wings beat against your cheeks,
and see the Divine smile shining through.
An event where your heartbeat quickens,
and you experience the mystery of the Other in the ‘mundane’.

A ‘thin place’ is a threshold, a limen, a holy bridge,
a door to the Throne Room, slightly opened.
It is a moment in time and space,
in which we can dwell, and dance, and move, if aware.

A ‘thin place’ is an encouragement, a sacred invitation to draw near,
to approach barefoot, in humility, in reverence and awe.
It is both seen and unseen.
Invisible we see you!

May you, in the wilderness of the countryside, or the city,
find a ‘thin place’ today, and be blessed.