Landing in Ireland
Bright and cheerful Montbretia in the Irish landscape
Three weeks ago I left behind one of the most picturesque, busy, and quirky small towns in British Columbia, Canada and moved to the serene and vast fields of rural West Ireland.
Moving to another country during the COVID-19 pandemic is a one in a life-time experience. So much uncertainty, unpredictability, and anxiety. But surprisingly, the small bunch of us who dared to travel this summer got to enjoy the luxury of having lots of space in the waiting rooms of the airports, extra smiley and pleasant flight attendants, and overall very fast service everywhere. Yes, there was a bit of eeriness in the quiet corridors of airports and the masks and hazmat suits of the travellers but overall it was just fine.
We had to quarantine for 14 days as expected, so exploring had to wait, but through the windows of our house and outside in our yard my mind began to adjust to our new surroundings.
The first word that comes to mind describing this ancient land is tranquillity.
The calm and rigid beauty of Ireland is in great contrast to the wild and tall forests of British Columbia. Leaving widespread towering and mighty firs and sheltering high mountains behind and moving to the pale bare plains and rocky valleys of West Ireland creates a disparity in me — it feels like jumping in cold water, a bit of shock. Nothing surrounds you to cuddle you like when you’re in the mountains of the West Kootenays. Here you see as far as the eye can reach.
It has taken some time to figure out where all the treasures hide. After the shock was gone and my eye adjusted to the surroundings, I could see that Ireland is full of colour and magic, you just need to know how to look. The variety of summer wildflowers is similar to the Amazonian Jungle. The tiny colourful flowers hide among the nettle and deep jade grass. So far, I have discovered wild rose, fuchsia, ambrosia, thistle, willow-herb, meadowsweet, foxglove, forget-me-not, clover, daisy, ragged robin, valerian, sea spurge, sea pea, sea bindweed, and lots of montbretia. The list goes on and on! I have the rest of the summer to learn all their names and become friends. They are so gentle and shy.
The bright colours of the little flowers aren't the only visual delights here; magical rock formations add majesty to the Irish landscape. They hold stories of ancient giants and heroes, they feel like open scars in the earth. When you touch these rocks, you can feel the pulse of the land — its breath and rhythm. The stones pull you into them, you become one with them. The human world disappears and you forget where you are. You feel as close to the earth as bone on bone, skin on skin. Suddenly all your worries, thoughts, and feelings are gone. It arouses a raw primaeval sense that you are part of the earth. The strength of this place will live on long after we are gone.
Once we were finally free from quarantine we headed for the mighty Irish Ocean. I love the view of it and its proximity to our home. I can smell the salty air and feel a damp breeze all the time. The vastness of green fields framed by old boulders drop into the never-ending ocean.
To me the sea is the perfect metaphor for what it is that I want to do with my coaching work; to help people feel apart of the whole. To learn to be flexible with the changing tides of business and the sometimes craziness of life. I am grateful to have this beautiful new landscape as the palette for my new holistic business coaching practice.