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Return to Tir na Nog Dedicated to R M
Aggie listened. Aggie listened in a way that no one in his world of time ever listens anymore. Aggie listened from a deep pool of silence that is the most creative place any one of us can ever gift the other. In this deep pool of silence all judgement has gone. All that is left is a space full of clarity and compassion. This was the space that allowed George to pour her heart out. George told her story as far as she understood it. She kept the dream to the end. This was the one were the dark riders come on white horses and cut her to pieces as she watches in the reflection of their shields. When she had finished she sighed deeply and said, "I am so tired, I feel I am going insane. I just want my old life back.” Then her body was flooded with sorrow and she shook from a lamenting that even she could not imagine was any part of who she was or ever had been. Aggie waited and watched. She said nothing. Her simple observation was enough. She simply poured her presence into this shadow woman. She poured and poured into this one who no longer lived in the bright house of a body in love with life. When the sobbing subsided Aggie spoke. The voice resonated a peace that would keep the distraught George calm. “I have some good news and some goods news for you,” Aggie said with a smile. George felt relieved. She could really do with some good news. Aggie continued, “The good news is that you are already insane.” Having heard this George asked, “And the other good news!” Aggie smiled again and said, “You won’t get your old life back. George started to cry again. She started thinking that she couldn’t go on the way things were. She couldn’t spend another month, week, day or even shorter time feeling the way she did. She had to find a way out of this pain. Then she pulled herself back from the edge. She mustn’t think such thoughts a voice in her head reminded her. Such thoughts are wicked. So, as she always did, she put them away in her bad thought bag and locked it away in her personal Pandora’s box. Aggie could read Georges mind. She watched her eyes dart here and there as the young woman wrestled with the shadows of judgement. “This is the way they all wrestle thought in the world of time,” thought Aggie. “This way they never get any real peace of mind. They are always trying to escape from the prison of there own making never realising the doors and gates are never locked and the key is always on the inside.” “Do not distress yourself child,” Aggie said reassuringly. “You are being invited to a banquet. You are being invited to feast on your life. You are invited to a wedding feast and to live in your bright house once again with the windows wide open to joy. You may not be able to sleep but in another sense you are being awaked into the world beyond the ninth wave. You are being invited to Tir Na Nog. It was more the sound of the voice than the words that resonated with George. Her mind resisted this invite. Yet what Aggie spoke about had her heart convinced. George’s heart felt there was truth in what Aggie said although she could not say why. Aggie spoke again. “This dream you continue to have is the invitation. You will continue to have it until you do one of two things.” Either you accept it or you fight it. If you fight it you will fall deeper into the sleeping sickness and the windows of your bright house will become smaller and smaller until all light has gone.” Aggie continued,” Do not be afraid of nightmares child. They are invitations from the deep. They come from across the ocean on white horses and cross the doorway into sleep. They come from Manannan Mac Lir the God of the deep who rules from the Place of the Apple trees in the Land of Promise. Your dream is especially powerful. Aggie spoke softly and powerfully, “This dream is saying that you are ready. If you were not then it would not be revealed to you. It is telling you that you want the real life and not the one you live now. The riders who are faceless are the warriors of Manannan Mac Lir. They come to cut away all that is unreal and leave only the real. They come to renew your innocence and your beauty. All that they leave you with is the real. Your choice is simply this? Are you ready for the real life? Are you ready for the real life of love? George wasn’t sure what the real life was. She wasn’t sure if she wanted this real life. Love had hurt her enough she thought. As she was pondering this real life question Aggie pulled on her pipe. She stood up and left the room although she was still present with George. When she returned she took the shadow woman’s hand in hers, she turned it upward and placed in her palm a golden ring. "This ring was tempered three times in the fire of the other world,” Aggie McFarland explained. This is the world beyond time. This ring was made by a smith of the Tuatha De Danaan and now it cannot be destroyed by fire alone.” Aggie again read Georges mind. “Take it child. You do not have to choose now. If you say yes to the invite from the world beyond time it will not be easy. Neither will the other path be easy. This ring is a symbol of your commitment to the real life. Only put it on if you are prepared to let the old life go. If not this ring will come back to me.” George felt the golden ring warm in the palm of her hand. She felt calmer than she had done in many months. Something had shifted. Something new had come into her life in this short time that she had spent at this strange little cottage one half mile from nowhere. She couldn’t say what it was but it felt good beyond any judgement of good or bad. Aggie would later tell her that this was the experience of the body in full presence. This, she said, was the real homeplace where we all belonged and all longed to return to. It was dawn when George left the cottage of Aggie McFarland. Each woman embraced the other long and hard. George had the strange feeling that she was embracing a flow of light and hugging more space than form. It felt as if there was nothing there and that everything was there. Aggie said one last thing on the threshold of the cottage. George kept it in her mind as she walked her way back to the big house by the shore. Aggie had told her, “To remember the other world in this world is to live in your true inheritance.” It seemed strange but George felt young again. For the first time in too long a time she skipped along the lane and spun around while throwing her arms to the sky. She felt for the first time in too long a time that she lived in a bright house. As Aggie McFarland sat in the snug of the pub she was not thinking. This was her favourite thing to do. As she drew deeply on her pipe she heard a clunk. It was a familiar sound. It was the sound of small half full tumbler of whisky being placed on the table beside her. Aggie did not look up immediately. When she did George was standing above her. The young woman held out her hand to Aggie who took it firmly and held it awhile. No words were said as each woman drank in the presence of the other with their eyes. Aggie watched the young woman leave. Not much had changed in her manner except that she walked with her head higher than when Aggie had first seen her. Other than this little had changed except that she now she wore a golden ring on a finger of her left hand. Aggie smiled, placed the glass of whiskey to her lips and raised a toast, “To life.” THE END RECOMMENDED VIEWING
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Go to Return to Tir na Nog - Part I Tony Cuckson is a storyteller, writer, workshop leader and Anam cara (Soul Friend) .
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