I have just arrived to Ballycastle in Northern Ireland, to be with friends for a New Years retreat.
We live right by the wild North Atlantic, and yesterday after arriving we took a walk down to the cliffs at Kilbane.
After a while I made my way on my own seeking out a place where I could dance with this incredible place, on my own – to really arrive. To really land.
It began a little self-consciously. What if I were spotted? “Lone woman seen dancing wildly on the cliffs at Kilbane.” Now that doesn’t seems like such a terrible occurrence, but then it felt like something I would prefer to avoid.
So the beginning of the dance was awkward. Self-limiting. Small movements. Peeks across my shoulders. Still I persisted. I danced with the elements, inviting them one by one into my dance, into my body, into my spirit. Slowly grounding through earth and then, thankfully, and perhaps inevitably releasing, letting go with a great Whooopie when Fire joined. Yes, fire got me going – and then I was free. Free. To dance. In this place of raw beauty.
All the elements were here with me: The great rocks of Mother Earth, the Fire of the setting sun and the wildness in my heart that this land awakens in me, the Waves crashing against the rocks, crashing, the wild Wind blowing blowing blowing my heart into great delight.
I am feeling a little giddy in this moment. I think it is from the awesomeness of swirling on the Northern coast of Ireland, with the elements dancing me too, with me dancing the elements.
I felt, I feel like I am truly coming home to my wildness. Dancing the earth alive. Nonsense, she is alive already. Dancing the life she is giving me, you, everyone, And in that dancing giving it more strength, more Is’ness.
I wondered as I danced in front of the ruins whether whoever built it would have imagined that one day a woman would arrive from Zimbabwe and dance, swirl, soar here on these rocks, by these waters, with this wind. I suspect not. And I love how the world is slowly but surely