A Little on Belfast

I first visited Belfast in 1963. I was 15. The Troubles had begun and the divisions between Protestants and Catholics, particularly in city neighborhoods was intense. As we were shown around Northern Ireland, my cousins would skirt around the neighborhood featured in the movie to avoid danger. In fact, it wasn’t until a few years ago that I toured the Falls Road/Shankhill areas. The Peace Wall brought tears to my eyes. The fact that the gate between the neighbors is still closed at 10 pm for curfew left a pit in my stomach. The Peace Accord was such an amazing triumph; yet, the deep wounds of division remain for many.

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The Celtic Wheel of the Year

Last Wednesday was Imbolc or St. Brigid’s day, the celebration of winter reaching completion and the first signs of spring appearing. I say that as I look out and piles of snow and an outside thermometer reading of 10 F degrees. Perhaps it is because of the climate where I reside, but my primary sense of this holiday is that it symbolizes and celebrates Hope. The light gets noticeably brighter and the days longer. Spring is coming. New beginnings are on the horizon.

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Twelfth Night

Twelfth Night brings to a close the Christmas season and has become an important night of ritual for me. I didn’t grow up with a Twelfth Night tradition but, as a child, it was the Star in the East, the Magi, and their gifts of frankincense and myrrh that most fascinated me. Could we ever see that star in our sky? Who were these wise men? And what were these strange gifts? I am amused to think now about how I haven’t stopped seeking answers to my questions about the stars, the East, healing essences and all the mystical questions I had as a little girl.

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