Us and Trees - What we can do

I am working on this article for our next Sunday Session. Though this is not finished, I feel this needs to out there for you to read and contemplate while I still work on editing and improving this. 

It was a rainy day today, so I working on this awhile,  I still have not had time to get more photos posted into this article. I do not think this will be possible now well into next week. Eventually, some video clips will arrive here too, in the near future. 

Please bookmark and re-visit this article when you can. Also, consider attending our Sunday Session of this at Carrowcrory next Sunday afternoon from 2pm.  If you cannot attend that please contact me for future dates

Please RSVP in advance here, to attend as we can only host 25 people.

Woodland Cover In Ireland?

At the remarkable first Woodland Festival in Co. Leitrim, this month, I learned a lot more about tree and woodland cover. The conversations I had with people within what seems to be a limited tree passion within Ireland was r…

Using The Tree Labyrinth Garden

At Sunday Sessions

At Carrowcrory Labyrinth Gardens we now have a Dancing Lady Herb Spiral Labyrinth Garden, Triple Spiral Lavender Garden, Fire Dance Garden, Fruit Serpent Garden and the Queen of them all, the Tree Labyrinth Garden.

On most Sunday afternoons between April and end of October we host Sunday Sessions. Through these, we explore folklore, most of it being local. We suggest ideas from them for guiding our current life choices.

Our Sunday Sessions are micro vision quest journeys. First, a folklore story or genre is explored. Then some contemplation on this is combined with our invited Tree Labyrinth experience.

Together, this can inspire the creation of poetry, or at least some journaling, to express and perhaps understand the folklore more.

The Tree Labyrinth Dream

Allow me to introduce the origins of the Tree Labyrinth Garden that started as a repeated dream and then became an expression of ancient mythologies combined with local folklore.

The starting point was repeated d…

The Home Visit Doctor

It was a Saturday, the day after Claire and I visited Bloom Festival 2019. and I became ill. I have been down and up and back down with pneumonia since mid April. I should not have been up and about.

After Bloom, Claire hinted ‘hospital’, and I hinted quiet, calm, meditated, diet, and conditioned controlled recovery.

To me, hospital was hours sitting in barbaric torture in A&E with jarring noises, intense lights, verbal conversation in the language of internet trolls, and nothing to eat other than chocolate chip cookies and zero life coca cola. Once briefly seen by A&E doc, maybe a day or two in a bone twisting trolley parked in a draught corridor ... and still no food and a cup of tea. Please, wheel me into the Tree Labyrinth Garden and let me pass on from there instead.

Next morning, I was still at Woodford, Dublin, Claire discovered a visiting doctor service online that could be paid for with our national health medical card, so she phoned to book one on my behalf.

Now, this…

Compassionate Contemplation

Our Labyrinth Gardens carry an intent 
to be used for calm and connection.

Calm can mean space that seems to be a break away from anxiety and stress, or if you are a calm and happy person, a place to carry your questions and discover what is revealed for you.

Connection can mean a pause from our self creation, which we may call ego, into space of uncondition where we can flow without challenge and be part of our surroundings rather than complete with it.

Compassionate contemplation is sharing our calm, our prayer, our meditation, with all around us. Using the Labyrinth Gardens, we may attract or conceive a vision, a clarity, and maybe form a story of how our craft, that calling that we process through our minds, hands and voice, can be used compassionately towards bridging and connection

This is not limited to our compassion with other people, 
but with all life and our landscapes

Compassionate connection with anything here opens a wonderful personal opportunity of experiencing a potent …

Could There Ever Be Loneliness If ...

Could There Ever Be Loneliness If ...

I stopped to watch a blackbird listen
For a twitch and wriggle from the next morsel
To be pecked and pulled from the ground.
I watch the last leaves fall from trees
That will now stand naked and quiet for awhile,
Weaving new life from the soil
To weave love again during the next Spring

A cat appears also hunting
For the next creature or uneaten morsel to chew.
A cat not aware of who was slaughtered
On the other side of the world,
Or called back to the womb through natural disaster.
A cat present, every step a new beginning.
Every brushing against a rugged bark,
A rain dewed grass blade, or my leg, is a new sensation.

Is loneliness a longing reflecting on past sensations?
Is loneliness a fear of not fulfilling a longing?
What if we trust what we see, smell, hear, touch and taste?
Could there ever be loneliness during those moments?

John Willmott aka Woodland Bard

(anyone remember the Facebook hoax of the above lad?)

Green Man & Sheela at Boyle Abbey

Sorting through old pics today ... Green Man at Boyle Abbey, that I think vanished during renovations, replaced with a new stone with a so called replica floral design,

and Sheela na Gig at Boyle Abbey that many say is not a Sheela na gig, and that is still there.

Bathing With The Sheela - book progress

I have double the content needed for ‘Bathing With The Sheela’, so now the cropping and editing down will commence ... but this will not be the cover photo ...

From Scribing To Hash Tags, part two ...

It has boggled me how the incredible diversity of oral languages presented to scribes at Irish monastic scriptoriums could be archived down into maybe one language?

There must have been a lot of ‘that’ll do’ during traslation by these scribes. I imagine them fumbling through their own scrabble collection of letter symbols and sounds, trying to fit oral sounds of the varied native Ghael languages, into their own limited language.

Scripting, and any later writing systems to date, 
could never be an archive of our consciousness, 
our ‘magic thinking’.

Oral stories from inspiration trying to communicate unconscious sources, is greatly reduced by the oral languages, and reduced further by these ancient scribers, the writers.

Trying to be objective, through writing is lifeless and is a false reality about our reactions. To be honest and subjective we still convert oral passion into a controlled archive.

As writers, we convert narration into a controlled instrument. Anyone reading these script…