Whispy rays of daylight entered my hotel room through a curtained window. Surprised and confused, I looked at my watch. It was four thirty in the morning. "Whoa, what's going on here?" I said to myself. "Its getting light already and its still nightime!" Then I remembered. I was in Ireland, at a much higher latitude than I was used to, and summer time was on its way. That means long, long days with early starts and late endings. It doesn't get dark here until eleven at night. It took some time to get used to these different rhythms, but when I did, I really liked it. I didn't need as much sleep and that meant I had more time to explore the town of Killarney and the beautiful country side of County Kerry. I was there for a weeklong conference of the International Transpersonal Psychology Association and while I had three presentations to do, I had plenty of time to be off by myself going where ever the winds took me.

The first morning I got up with the light and went out for my customary run. I picked up my Deer Tail which I always carry, a gift from the a Huichol shaman, and set off down a deserted road. Great. The town was still asleep. I headed out for the country and took the first turn that looked like it would get me closer to the surrounding mountains whose summits I could see from town. I didn't bother to read any street signs, just followed the Deer Tail. Several miles later I was running past fields where sheep grazed, forests where rhododendrons blazed purple flowers up into the trees, and deer froze to see what was coming up beside them. It was a lush, moist, green, and grey-misty day. I loved it! The road narrowed down and veered into a parking lot. Imagine my surprise when I looked up and there was a huge, stone castle right in front of me. I couldn't believe it. Was I dreaming? No, its real. Hey, welcome to Ireland.

Behind the castle was a beautiful, sparkling lake. There were several empty boats by the shore, small, wooded islands scattered throughout the vast waters, and beyond the far shores--it looked like several miles away, the wonderful mountains undulated up into thick, fluffy, clouds. I stopped in awe to take it all in. I did some thankfulness prayers right there in the parking lot. Then I felt a sensation in my abdomen that pulled me away from the castle and off into the surrounding woods. I went past the ruins of an ancient stone cottage, down a dirt path along the lake, over peat bogs and right into a sacred grove whose power stopped me before I could get two feet into it. There in the center of the grove was a huge, ancient beech tree. All the other trees around were bowing down to it. I could see from a hundred feet away that her trunk was hollow, a sacred opening into mystery. Her nature felt feminine and I bowed to my knees in her presence.

"Thank you Great Mystery for leading me to this holy place. Thank you Deer Spirit for showing me the way. Thank you Spirits of these woods. Thank you Great Grandmother Tree. I ask your permission to enter your sacred grove. I come to you with respect and thankfulness. Help me to be with you in a good way."

After I finished my prayer I sat still and listened. All I could hear was the soft lapping of the waters of the lake, a chorus of singing birds, and the wind rustling gently through the leaves of the surrounding trees that all seemed to join me in acknowledging the reigning magesty of this part of the forest. It was lovely. After awhile the wind stopped and the leaves were quiet. Then one leaf on the Goddess Tree moved. Just one. I got that it was calling me to her. I stood up and slowly walked closer. Each step brought me into deeper connection with her immense power. I paused at her opening. I lowered my head to the soft, forest floor and sent prayers of thanksgiving down into her roots. She beckoned me into her body. Slowly and with great tenderness I entered. I felt her beauty from the inside out. I felt her pain as well, pain from disrespect, abuse, and unconscious violation. I stood up inside and tears poured down my cheeks. I was held and embraced by her ancient, healing power and I knew that I was in a state of grace amongst the holiest of holies.

The next day at my presentation on Huichol shamanism, I spoke about my experience at the Sacred Tree. I mentioned that one of my prayers was to meet an indigenous Irish person who could teach me how to be at this sacred spot in a way that was harmonious with the traditions native to this land. My prayers were soon answered. A young man from County Kerry came up to me and said he wanted to talk with me. We went off by ourselves and sat down under an oak tree. He told me that he was amazed that I had been led to the tree. It was way off the beaten path and it was a very sacred place for the local people. But he was upset that his home territory was being "invaded" by the 1500 people attending the conference, the majority of whom were going off to vist sacred sites and, as he put it, "taking what was there but giving nothing back. Milking the land" he called it. He felt violated and was justly upset.

We talked for several hours and at the end of this time, we were both in tears. We spoke of our love for the land, our fears of what was happening to it as people around the world forgot the ways of right-relationship and just came, took, and gave nothing of themselves back to area they were visiting. When our words were all finished, he looked at me in silence. Then he spoke. "I can see that we are brothers" he said, "and tomorrow I would like to take you to the oldest place of pilgrimage in Southern Ireland. There I can show you the way of respect for the spirit of our land". I thanked him dearly and said goodbye with a big hug.

Next morning off we went. We drove out of town and over rolling, green, Irish farmland with stone walls, old ruins, farmers with oxen ploughing the rocky soil. It could have been a thousand years ago. We continued on over bumpy dirt roads further and further into the heart land. Finally we parked the car and walked up over a knoll. There were two large circles of stone walls comprising an outer circle and and inner one. We walked in silence around the outer circle. When we completed a circumnaviagation, we did it again. And again. And again. Each walk around the circle dissolved a cycle of time. We walked for a long time. Ancient memories, feelings, images, and spirits were now here and present, alive and communicating.

After awhile we entered the inner circle, and continued walking silently in circles. I would have loved to keep it up all day. I was spiraling in deeper and deeper. But after awhile we stopped by two flat rocks with incised markings of the cirlce and the four directions. Here he led me in an ancient ceremony that predated Christianity. When we finished, he led me to a nearby well. It was a fertility well at the base of a mountain shaped like the breasts of a woman. We knelt down and offered our prayers in silence. When we were finished, we left in silence.

The next day at the conference one of the speakers on an indigenous panel spoke about the "three R's" necessary when relating to indigenous people. "Respect, relationship, and reciprocity" she emphasized. This was exactly what my Irish teacher had taught me about in our "Circles of Silence". I share them with you as Ecopsychology teachings from the "ould sod" , the land of Ireland, where there are still people who remember how to walk in a sacred way on the body of our Mother.