My Happy Place: Glendalough

I encountered quite a few spiritually significant places around Ireland, but one in particular stayed with me more clearly than any other: Glendalough. Founded by Saint Kevin in the 6th century, this monastery is nestled in the Wicklow Mountains and sits between two lakes, which is where the name comes from ("gleann da loch" means "glen of two lakes"). In its heyday, Glendalough was not only home to a monastery, but also to a settlement that grew up around it. Most of the remaining buildings at Glendalough, including several churches and an impressive round tower, date from the 10th to the 12th centuries. Glendalough was a key ecclesiastical site and a cradle of learning and culture until 1214, when invading Normans destroyed the monastery. Today, the site is part of the Wicklow Mountains National Park and draws visitors from all over the world.

Memories of Glendalough are among the happiest ones I have of my trip to Ireland. The whole site was breathtakingly lovely, with the spectacular views of the surrounding valley and the lakes on each side. A rushing river enhanced the feeling of peaceful closeness to nature. The buildings themselves were even intimate with nature: I took a photograph of a button fern growing out of the wall of St. Kevin's Church. I remember sitting on a rock in a little grove of trees beneath the round tower, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of it. As I sat there, a bird landed in the tree above me, and all of a sudden I understood the simple pleasures of nature that the monks who lived at Glendalough must have enjoyed.

Glendalough felt strangely familiar to me. The stone walls, the little churches and mighty round tower, the trees, and the soft roar of the river all seemed very comforting and homey. And the peacefulness of it was incredible! Even though it was crowded, with two other tour groups in addition to my group, the site was relatively quiet. Perhaps the other visitors, like me, sensed the spirituality surrounding the site and wanted to respect it. Sacredness can actually be felt at some places, if its presence is strong enough. I definitely felt it at Glendalough.

Sometimes, words just don't seem to be enough to describe just how a place affects someone. Glendalough, the beautiful mountain monastery, was like that for me. I can describe the feelings all I like, but description can never get close to how moved I was by the site. Its intimacy with nature, its beauty and stillness, and its palpable sacredness touched me beyond words. I was desperately sad to leave Glendalough, but I left with an even stronger resolution to return one day.

The Hill of Tara: Where Myth Meets Life

In Ireland, myths seem a lot less distant from everyday life than they are in my home country, the United States. Myth becomes attached to ordinary places, making them extraordinary. But even within the "mythical" places of Ireland, you can see the presence of everyday people going about their lives.

The coexistence of myth and ordinariness was most present at the Hill of Tara. It is not just any old hill. In Irish myth, Tara was the dwelling place of the ancient Celtic gods, the Tuatha de Danaan ("too-uh-huh de dane-an"), and the entry point into the Land of the Ever Young. Tara holds an important place in Christianity, too: the hill is rumored to be the place where Saint Patrick first confronted the Celtic gods. Finally, Tara was the seat of the High Kings of Ireland, the mythical and/or historical rulers of the whole island. Choosing the Hill of Tara as a seat for the ruler of all Ireland made perfect sense to me once I saw it: our tour guide Dave Yeates told us that about 40% of the entire island is visible from the top of Tara.

The Hill of Tara is so swathed in mythology that I couldn't help but think of the stories I'd read before going. As I stood on top of it, I could almost see the kings of Ireland in their magnificent forts, celebrating Samhain or Beltaine. The look of the hill helped me visualize the myths: it is covered with little mounds, called raths, that are sites of mythological forts. A huge tree covered with scraps of clothing, coins, and other small offerings marks Tara as a "thin spot," a point where the boundaries between the human and fairy worlds are unfixed and the inhabitants of those worlds can mingle freely. I even felt the presence of myth and magic physically: when I left a couple of coins on the fairy tree, a branch that I'd sworn was nowhere near me poked me in the face! I later joked that the fairies were angry because I hadn't left them enough money.

And yet, at the same time, the Hill of Tara seemed quite ordinary to the locals. While we tourists were madly snapping photos and recalling old myths, a local woman was playing a game of tag with her two children. The kids skittered up and down the raths with a sure-footedness that suggested they'd been to Tara many times before. Another local, an elderly man, walked his dog nearby. Farmers are even allowed to use the hill as pasture, as evidenced by the ever-present piles of sheep poop. Tara was a place of wonder and mystery for me, as a foreigner, but it seemed that to the locals, it was a very interesting public park. Seeing everyday life rub shoulders so easily with myth and legend was a novel experience for me.

The Hill of Tara was a place where magic and life met. And they did more than just meet: they existed harmoniously side by side. It was this ease with which myth and life could mingle that made Tara such a special, memorable place for me. The entire site was a thin place, where the spirits of Irish legend could come to play with everyday mortals.

In the Shadow of the Tower: Monasterboice

The Irish landscape is enchanting, partly due to the reminders of early Christianity that dot the hills. Monasteries were built all across the island, but only a few have survived. My tour group visited two particularly impressive sites: Monasterboice ("monster-boyss") and Glendalough. Monasterboice, just outside of Dublin, was built around 521 A.D. and remains one of the most complete early Christian sites. The area encompasses two small churches, a round tower, two fine high/Celtic crosses, and a small cemetery.

When our tour bus "Betsy" rolled to a stop outside of Monasterboice, my eyes were drawn to one of the site's most striking central attractions: the round tower. Round towers are generally slender and tapering, with cone-shaped tops that makes them look like they are wearing hats. The purpose of these towers is still unclear, although bell towers and places for monks to hide during Viking raids are popular suggestions. The round tower at Monasterboice has lost its "hat," but it still dominates the site, catching the eye and boldly announcing the monastery's location. I was amazed at how massive the tower was: I could not see the top of it, no matter how far I leaned back, and several of the stones were the size of my head!

The round tower may be the most striking feature of Monasterboice, but just as impressive are the two high crosses that stand at the foot of the tower. Also known as Celtic crosses, these monuments served an educational purpose. The pictures carved into the stone depict scenes from the Bible, and blend Christian imagery with ideas from ancient Celtic art. For example, many high crosses include swirls and circles, designs favored by the ancient Celts, along with Bible stories. The two crosses of Monasterboice were fantastic; the detail of the carvings was very fine, given that the crosses bear over a thousand years of wearing and erosion. Plus, I could see just how fitting the name "high cross" was: in my trip journal, I described them as having "the height of two Emilys (which is about 10 feet tall) and the width of one." These monuments stand as beautiful testimonies to the importance of art in early Christian Ireland.

Though my favorite of the two monasteries was Glendalough, Monasterboice had a charming simplicity and beauty to it. The sheer impressiveness of the round tower and high crosses was counteracted by the heaps of flowers strewn across the graves, some of them new, in the tiny cemetery. It was intimate and peaceful, a demonstration that spirituality can be both personal and public.

Newgrange: A Light of Ireland

First on my retracing of Ireland's mythical, ancient, and early Christian sites is one of my favorite places on the entire island: Newgrange. Located in the fertile Boyne River valley in County Meath, Newgrange is a masterful example of a "passage tomb." While tombs like this dot the Irish landscape, Newgrange is possibly the most famous. It was constructed around 3,200 B.C., which makes it 500 years older than the Giza pyramids and 1,000 years older than Stonehenge.

However, Newgrange is much more than a simple burial site. On the outside of the tomb, there is a small window above the entrance. This "roof box" aligns with the rising sun's rays on the winter solstice. Every year from December 19th to 23rd, when the sun rises, the light enters the roof box and illuminates the inner passage and the chamber where the dead's cremated remains were placed. Just as impressive are the intricate art on the kerbstones, the large decorated rocks holding the mound up, and the carvings on the inner chamber's walls.

As I mentioned above, Newgrange was one of my absolute favorite places in Ireland. The mere thought of the site alone was enough to amaze me. It was built without mortar, and the inner chamber is still waterproof today. In addition, the granite kerbstones and gleaming white quartz fac̹ade came from many different places around the island. The dedication it must have taken to build Newgrange speaks to how important the site must have been to its creators.

Then, of course, there is the spiritual significance of the site. I am a spiritual person in general, but Newgrange touched me more deeply than I ever imagined it would. I knew from the moment I first saw the mound, towering over the neat rolling fields of County Meath, that I was arriving at a very special place. The whole site emanated a feeling of infinite peace. The carved kerbstones and beautiful white quartz, sparkling in the sunlight, created a mood of contemplation and simple happiness for me. The sheer beauty and soft murmuring of the nearby Boyne River helped enhance the site's feeling of spirituality and peace.

Even more thrilling was the experience I had when our guide simulated the illumination of the inner chamber (we just missed the winter solstice). I had never been in a place so absolutely still; although there were more than twenty people squeezed inside, I swore that nobody was breathing. But it wasn't an oppressive silence: on the contrary, I distinctly felt something else in the chamber with us, a sort of benign presence, and several other people in my tour group reported having similar awareness of a good spiritual force. I left the mound feeling completely at peace with the world and unusually fond of everyone who had shared the experience with me.

Newgrange was amazing. Words can barely describe how much I fell in love with it. The spiritual resonance it had with me was incredible, and I strongly encourage anyone with religious or spiritual leanings to visit it. It will not disappoint!

A Land of Myth and Spirit

While visiting Ireland and Northern Ireland this past winter, I quickly learned that the Emerald Isle is a land of stories. It seemed that myths, legends, and literature were everywhere I looked. Not only that, Irish writers drew a lot of inspiration from the tales all around them. The connection between literature and local myths was especially prominent in the career of W.B. Yeats, who was greatly inspired by the scenery of County Sligo in the northwest corner of the Republic of Ireland. Yeats' tomb even reflects a connection between writing and myth: he is buried underneath Ben Bulben, a flat mountain that is rumored to be the burial spot of Gráinne and Diarmuid, two lovers from Irish myth.

Sites connected to myth, however, are not the only landmarks that dominate Irish scenery. Early in the history of Christianity, Ireland was a cradle of civilization. The monks that populated early Christian Ireland were responsible for preserving old Celtic folklore and blending the Celts' spiritual ideas with their own beliefs. While these early monasteries are now deserted, the buildings remain, standing as reminders of the monks' literary and artistic achievements. The remains of early Christian Ireland are at their most impressive at two sites near Dublin: Monasterboice and the breathtakingly beautiful Glendalough.

The landscape of Ireland is dotted with strange and mysterious landmarks. Some of them, like the "thin spots" between the human world and that of the fairies, are naturally occurring landmarks. Others, like Glendalough and the Stone Age tomb Newgrange, are manmade. However they got there, though, all of them have a deep connection with myth and, often, a sense of spirituality and even of magic.