A beautiful well, thank you. The advice corresponds to my most intimate and heartfelt convictions about the human condition, and what allows us to stand upright. And the stations of the cross speak to me, in spite of my Protestant upbringing. They are a form of pilgrimage.
Paul is there any chance you would ever make a little guide book or pamphlet or even simple map for other pilgrims to follow. I read these accounts with a delight and near excitement that continues to surprise me.
Agree on the delight and excitement. I read the stories and always feel a wish to go visit the wells, or somewhere like them. I always remember the mysterious little (mostly unknown and unmarked) places that I experienced as sacred.
I think these stories remind me of my most memorable experiences of places I’ve visited, or live nearby. In almost every case there is nothing too outwardly impressive about the places I visit, meaning they are not obvious tourist attractions. But there is something special about them.
Im from the town which this well is located near to. I now live abroad. In my youth (early 1990s) my friends and I would go on long cycle trips out the countryside and we often pass this well, and drop in for a drink. We all knew it was holy and special there. Then we were not skeptical of the church or mysteries or old legends.
Since Paul started to write about holy wells, I hoped he would visit St Bridget’s well. I’m glad he found it so pleasant. I will visit it myself this summer with my kids.
Paul always bagging on the boring, boggy midlands. I mean, I wouldn't be here if I could afford Dublin or Galway. And almost all I ever read about Cork are stories of road accidents and suicides. So the midlands it is for now. And if I never manage to escape these dreary hinterlands for one of the more glamorous(?) coastal cities, at least the bog will swallow me one day and I'll finally become a proper part of Ireland.
The genuinely miraculous thing about these photos is they were taken on a sunny day. Or, more likely, during a few sunny minutes of yet another gray day.
Ah, they're alright really. I live on the edge of the midlands myself and they have their moments. I prefer the Burren or the wilds of Mayo, of course, but I can't afford to live there. But actually, in their defence, the midlands have a kind of stability that can be appealing if you spend enough time there. And I say, they have their hidden gems.
Certainly, the charms of some places are subtle and take more effort to appreciate. I was raised in the Central Valley of California, which is nothing but hundreds of miles of flat. I grew up 35 miles from where poet William Everson aka Brother Antoninus lived as a young man. He is noted for his religious poetry, but I relate more to his poems about growing up, for obvious reasons. In one poem he talks about the beauty of the valley after a storm, to which I can attest, and contrasts that with the disdain city folk show as they hurry through it on their way to the sea or Yosemite. Of them he says, "They seek splendor; who would touch them must stun them; The nerve that is dying needs thunder to rouse it."
the past stands still eternally." Friedrich Schiller
I carrie timelessness with me every time I visit old cemeteries. It may be an illusion but it seems to be real when the noise fades away and everything around me slowes down. In my experience there are places in this world where time stands still.
Another lovely article, thank you. But, at the risk of opening a can of worms, Newgrange, in the midlands? I'm not sure even the people of Trim would say they lived in the midlands. However, by the time you hit Mullingar, you've certainly arrived.
Paganism, neo- or not, has fought its way into Christianity from the beginning--always successfully--because we live in a pagan world and were born pagan. All of our symbols are made of the same materials as pagan symbols. We keep forgetting the danger of craven images. Physical reminders can not remind us that they are just reminders. Spiritual things cannot be rendered materially. Even Casper the friendly ghost, when rendered in the cartoon, became a material being, indistinguishable from a chair or a lamp. The resurrected Christ had to return to heaven. His kingdom is not and cannot be of this earth.
"because we live in a pagan world and were born pagan"
yes! That feels like the tension--we want to go back to our "nature"-- our pagan self. And the prince of this world wants that too. But, if we were baptized in the Trinitarian form we have been ransomed out--into freedom.
Paul says he is not Catholic, and indeed he is not, (but Catholicism is not a denomination)-- all Baptized Christians are in the Church. Just separated by schism. Praying for unity...
The stations of the cross, it's just walking through what Jesus went through. His condemnation until death on the cross and then his entombment.
The stations of the cross might be likened to a visual of Holy Week in the Orthodox Church.
A beautiful well, thank you. The advice corresponds to my most intimate and heartfelt convictions about the human condition, and what allows us to stand upright. And the stations of the cross speak to me, in spite of my Protestant upbringing. They are a form of pilgrimage.
It’s great to see that this beautiful well is kept in good condition🙏
Uncluttered and well tended by faithful friends I imagine
Paul is there any chance you would ever make a little guide book or pamphlet or even simple map for other pilgrims to follow. I read these accounts with a delight and near excitement that continues to surprise me.
Agree on the delight and excitement. I read the stories and always feel a wish to go visit the wells, or somewhere like them. I always remember the mysterious little (mostly unknown and unmarked) places that I experienced as sacred.
I think these stories remind me of my most memorable experiences of places I’ve visited, or live nearby. In almost every case there is nothing too outwardly impressive about the places I visit, meaning they are not obvious tourist attractions. But there is something special about them.
Im from the town which this well is located near to. I now live abroad. In my youth (early 1990s) my friends and I would go on long cycle trips out the countryside and we often pass this well, and drop in for a drink. We all knew it was holy and special there. Then we were not skeptical of the church or mysteries or old legends.
Since Paul started to write about holy wells, I hoped he would visit St Bridget’s well. I’m glad he found it so pleasant. I will visit it myself this summer with my kids.
Paul always bagging on the boring, boggy midlands. I mean, I wouldn't be here if I could afford Dublin or Galway. And almost all I ever read about Cork are stories of road accidents and suicides. So the midlands it is for now. And if I never manage to escape these dreary hinterlands for one of the more glamorous(?) coastal cities, at least the bog will swallow me one day and I'll finally become a proper part of Ireland.
The genuinely miraculous thing about these photos is they were taken on a sunny day. Or, more likely, during a few sunny minutes of yet another gray day.
Ah, they're alright really. I live on the edge of the midlands myself and they have their moments. I prefer the Burren or the wilds of Mayo, of course, but I can't afford to live there. But actually, in their defence, the midlands have a kind of stability that can be appealing if you spend enough time there. And I say, they have their hidden gems.
Certainly, the charms of some places are subtle and take more effort to appreciate. I was raised in the Central Valley of California, which is nothing but hundreds of miles of flat. I grew up 35 miles from where poet William Everson aka Brother Antoninus lived as a young man. He is noted for his religious poetry, but I relate more to his poems about growing up, for obvious reasons. In one poem he talks about the beauty of the valley after a storm, to which I can attest, and contrasts that with the disdain city folk show as they hurry through it on their way to the sea or Yosemite. Of them he says, "They seek splendor; who would touch them must stun them; The nerve that is dying needs thunder to rouse it."
I think of the dreariness of the flat West Texas, but the people that it breeds are a wonderful lot.
Another lovely well. There’s something about that little pan ….it’s so touching because it’s so humble…. puts me in mind of the grail for some reason!
"Threefold is the step of time:
The future comes hesitantly,
the now is gone immediately,
the past stands still eternally." Friedrich Schiller
I carrie timelessness with me every time I visit old cemeteries. It may be an illusion but it seems to be real when the noise fades away and everything around me slowes down. In my experience there are places in this world where time stands still.
Another lovely article, thank you. But, at the risk of opening a can of worms, Newgrange, in the midlands? I'm not sure even the people of Trim would say they lived in the midlands. However, by the time you hit Mullingar, you've certainly arrived.
Paganism, neo- or not, has fought its way into Christianity from the beginning--always successfully--because we live in a pagan world and were born pagan. All of our symbols are made of the same materials as pagan symbols. We keep forgetting the danger of craven images. Physical reminders can not remind us that they are just reminders. Spiritual things cannot be rendered materially. Even Casper the friendly ghost, when rendered in the cartoon, became a material being, indistinguishable from a chair or a lamp. The resurrected Christ had to return to heaven. His kingdom is not and cannot be of this earth.
"because we live in a pagan world and were born pagan"
yes! That feels like the tension--we want to go back to our "nature"-- our pagan self. And the prince of this world wants that too. But, if we were baptized in the Trinitarian form we have been ransomed out--into freedom.
Paul says he is not Catholic, and indeed he is not, (but Catholicism is not a denomination)-- all Baptized Christians are in the Church. Just separated by schism. Praying for unity...
"rooted in their place." Love this!
"...on a sunny day in July,..." So your visit was last summer?
Good material and maintained well; presented with like mannered aplomb.