The pilgrimage begins!

So the day before the pilgrimage was to start, I arrived at the very pleasant and comfortable Glengat B&B in Dundalk.  I unpacked what I needed and went down to one of the cushy, first-floor sitting rooms to scope out the WiFi.  There was an elderly woman sitting in a chair staring into space.  I did not say anything since it seemed that she might be meditating.  I sat down and pulled out my iPhone.  Instantly, she came to hysterical life.  "Put that away!  You're killing me!  You're hurting my ears!"  Well, anyone who has worked in a courtroom for any length of time is familiar with the tone, energy, and victim mindset of a psychotic individual.  I wasn't going to deal or be codependent, so I ignored her and opened the case.  Instantly, she slapped two full bags over her ears and began chanting what sounded like Om -- om -- om in a loud, grating voice.    I flipped open the case and logged on without difficulty.  I caught up on email and then left her there without further engagement.

So that evening, we were meeting for dinner at a local restaurant.  Several of us were surprised by the expensive dining tastes of the leaders and needed to visit ATMs throughout the trip; this was the first instance of that.  When I saw that the screamer (hereafter referred to as B.) was part of the group, I made sure to seat myself at the opposite end of the table.  I was seated next to one of the trip leaders and took the opportunity to tell her what had happened; that my work experience had exposed me to numerous psychotic individuals; and I was concerned about B.'s condition and presence on the trip.  Her response was actually very curt and to the effect of, "We're mental health professionals and we're monitoring the situation."  At that point, a pilgrim across the table spoke up and said she had similar concerns, that she was sharing a room with B. and had also been the victim of a verbal assault when she pulled out a cell phone.  The leader said nothing and ignored me for the rest of the evening.  I managed to extricate myself from the gala and took a walk around town before heading back to Glengat. 

This is actually the Dundalk shopping mall.   It's certainly got more character than any other shopping center I've ever seen. 

This is St. Patrick's Cathedral in Dundalk.

The next day, the pilgrimage began!  Most of the group was staying at Glengat, so we saw each other at breakfast.  I met some interesting folks and made the discovery that I was one of three women who were making the pilgrimage as part of their process of turning 60.  (I am never certain about how much is okay to say about people I've met without their permission.  Suffice to say, they were an intelligent, thoughtful bunch.)  I connected with the other pilgrim who had the run-in with B., and we agreed to talk to the other leader about our concerns.  The results were near-identical.  I decided that I wasn't going to let the situation spoil the trip, nor was I going to look for connection with the leaders.  We were going to magical places, and there were plenty of other people to connect with. 

Our first day was slated to be a modest five-mile walk in the Dundalk environs.  It would take us to the first of the Brigid's Wells that we would encounter over the next nine days, followed by a walk on private land associated with Brigid's journey.

 And we're on our way!






 Brigid's Well at Faughart is situated in an old cemetery. 

 

 

We each had a few moments alone within the fascinating old hut that hosted the spring called Brigid's Well.  I touched the water to my forehead, heart chakra, and solar plexus and asked for wisdom and patience on the journey and said my first prayer for several individuals whose need for healing was another important focus of my pilgrimage.

After visiting the well, we went to nearby Brigid's Shrine for an opening ceremony during which we were presented with several lovely gifts.  These included a St. Brigid's cross made of local grasses.   Most of us attached these beautiful objects to the outside of our daypacks.

 

 

 

An interesting feature of the shrine was the Stations of St. Brigid's Stream, a series of meditations and prayer linked to specific sites.  Several pilgrims did one of more of the stations.

This is the head stone.  Supplicants place their head inside the white circle to ask for continued health and healing of dis-ease involving the head.

This is the kneeling stone, for leg ailments. 

 

 

My favorite shrines:

And onward.

We received welcome hospitality from neighborhood residents.  One young woman stood outside her home and greeted us with a pitcher of ice water.  A family laid out a welcome spread of fruit and water, and we enjoyed a bodhran (traditional drum performance) by a sweet and talented young woman.

Our path took us across some verdant farmland. The owner, Sally Cox, graciously allowed us access.

At the edge of the property, we were once again greeted by local people who gifted us with wine, soft drinks and snacks.  And I first noticed that despite diligent prep work, my right foot was starting to swell and hurt.

But it had to be solved or endured.  I wasn't going to miss my chance to walk and walk in this countryside and steep myself in its green magnificence.