An Irish forest, a vanishing lake, and unexpected magic found on the road less traveled.

And so we begin a newly numbered year. Wherever and however these words find you, I pray you receive what you need to meet this day, this moment, this time with courageous attunement to both listening to what is true and sincere within you and bringing it forward.

I find there’s a quiet liminality to this time of year — an enchanting in-between that invites deepening intimacy with the space between stars, between thoughts, between milestone moments. 

Sometimes the in-between times can feel harrowing and anxiety-inducing. Change tends to feel like it’s coming too quickly or not quickly enough, rarely at the preferred speed - and marinating in the discomfort of a past that’s gone and a future that hasn’t appeared often requires resilient presence and faith. 

I like to relate with the liminality through writing, reflecting, and dreaming into the seeds that are yearning to be nourished in the year ahead.

And sometimes, when I’m sensing into the underlying energy I want to cultivate and experience each year, memories will come forward in my consciousness like messengers in a time machine. And so it is with the story I’m about to share with you - it's one of my favorites. I hope it inspires you to meet the moments to come with resilient curiosity. I also invite you to consider one of my favorite quotes by Roald Dahl, “Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it!”

 
 

On a misty emerald morning a few Septembers ago, my partner Dane and I woke up in Northern Ireland. We were in the final stretch of a two-week adventure that brought us to Croatia and Montenegro, where I co-officiated a dear friend's wedding. We chose to complete our travels road-tripping around Ireland.

When planning the trip, I went into full-on excited delight and *let's-see-as-much-as-possible* mode. My excitement was so wide that I somehow did not consider how it'd actually feel to be on a road trip driving on the left side of the road rather than the familiar right…especially after two weeks of high-energy, extroverted traveling.

Needless to say: after two days of nerve-wracking, left-side driving through endless roundabouts and narrow hedges that were somehow two-way streets, we were both on edge.

So on that misty emerald morning, I remember waking up and reallylooking forward to returning to Dublin for a final night before flying home. I was ready.

When Dane woke up, he turned to me to say, “Hey, remember that Irish plot of land I received a few Christmases ago for charity? Is that near here?”

I Googled “Emerald Heritage,” an organization whose mission is to be a part of reforesting Ireland. Through a donation, one can become a “land squire” for a small plot of Irish land. The organization uses the donations to continue investing in land to replant trees in Ireland. Dane received a donation in his name and thus received an “Irish land squire” deed as a Christmas gift. The Google Map pin for Emerald Heritage showed itself as a 15-minute drive from where we were staying, so instead of getting right on the road towards Dublin, we decided to take the detour.

We drove along the rugged, tall-cliffed coast for about 10 minutes before turning onto a dusty farm road surrounded by miles of tractor-mowed fields. I knew something was a little off when I didn't see any trees. I doubtfully thought: Maybe there'll be a turnoff into a completely different landscape within the next five minutes?? I navigated Dane to where the pin guided us…to a stone farmhouse off the side of the dusty road where an older woman was vacuuming the trunk of her car.

Dane pulled into the driveway. Butterflies knotted in my stomach, “This can't be it! We'll disturb her!” And indeed, when she saw us, she jumped and looked frazzled as she walked quickly into the house.

“We've frightened her! We need to go!” I insisted, fully aware that my panicky people-pleaser self had officially taken the wheel.

“Let's just see — let's give it a minute,” Dane patiently responded.

 

Morale was not high at the time of this photo on the Irish roads lol

 

A moment later, an elderly man came out the front door to greet us in a thick Irish accent. He had a twinkle in his eye as he leaned toward the car and said, “Hello! What can I do for yous?”

“We're looking for Emerald Heritage. It's supposed to be reforested land.” We showed him our Google Map pin.

He raised his brows, eyes shining, before responding, “Well, I've lived here 84 years, my whole life — and I've never heard of that. Are yous American? Yous are the only ones that have ever come here asking. Never heard of it!” he mischievously chuckled, before repeating “Not sure I can help ya with that! Nothing within 20 miles of here with that name.”

He asked us more about ourselves and what brought us to Northern Ireland before sharing memories about what this place was like when he was young: “No roads! Just hills and sea for miles and miles.”

He soon bid us farewell, and even if it was a disruption to the rhythm of both our days, I think we all departed that exchange receiving the delightful grace that unexpected meetings can bring.

Once we were out of their driveway and back on the dusty farm road, Dane pulled over.

I was satisfied with the unexpected delight felt from meeting the older Irish man — and given that I was already feeling under-resourced from all the travel, I was willing to move on. I told Dane that perhaps we just accept it as a mystery and start heading to Dublin?

He disagreed. “We're here now…let's see if this actually exists. I'd like to look up the Emerald Heritage number and call them.”

 
 

After 10 minutes of listening to a “please hold” recording, Dane finally got on speakerphone with someone who worked for Emerald Heritage.

The man on the other line sounded as flustered as he was jolly. We could hear him rummaging for teacups as he kept apologizing with, “Sorry! So sorry! The lady who is in charge here is out sick today, so it's just me. We don't usually get people calling asking to visit the land.”

“Is there actually a plot of land to visit?” Dane asked.

“Yes, yes! There is indeed a plot of land. We don't get a lot of people calling us or visitors, but I assure you — there is land! So sorry,” he repeated, “I'm not used to talking on the phone. The lady is out sick today, so sorry! Where are you currently located?”

Dane explained where we were and the Google map pin that led us here.

“Ohhh, you're all the way over there? That's at least 25 miles from the land plot. You're in the completely opposite direction! How did you get there?”

We reiterated the Google Map pin, to which he seemed confused and confounded. He continued to repeat apologies yet patiently stayed on the phone with us and asked if we could give him the cross streets of where we were currently located.

After several more minutes of back and forth, he finally located us and began giving us directions:

“Turn around. Turn right. Keep going. You're currently in the opposite direction, so it's going to take you at least 30 minutes to get onto this specific road. Once you get on that specific road, it will start to get winding…then, you'll pass the vanishing lake — not sure if you'll see it!”

Dane and I looked at each other, his eyebrows raised high, while we both smiled and quietly giggled. “What do you mean by that?” Dane asked.

“Oh, sometimes it's there! Sometimes it's not. Anyways, when you pass the vanishing lake, you're close. About five minutes. Go slow at this point because it's easy to miss. On the right side of the road, there's a slight turnoff, and you'll see a wooden gate with a sign that says Emerald Heritage on it. That's it!”

We repeated the directions to him as I typed them in the notes on my phone — and eventually, after a 25 minute conversation that definitely went in circles, we said goodbye.

Time would tell whether this man was sincere or stringing us along — but regardless, at that point I was smitten by his Fairy Realm demeanor that reminded me of a character from Lord of the Rings. My under-resourced travel fatigue felt like it had been nourished by the silly exchanges this unexpected adventure brought us…plus, now I wanted to see if we would see the vanishing lake! 

So we turned around and started the drive towards the supposed plot of land. After about 45 minutes of driving (and turning around more than once), we finally found the specific road the man had told us to turn onto. Thick mist descended onto the winding road, and rain started to fall. The landscape changed from green farmed fields to spiraling turns through lush, deep emerald vines and swirling oak trees canopying the road. I felt like we had entered an Irish rainforest.

 
 

Several minutes later, we spotted a sign on the side of the road that we almost missed given how foggy it was that read VANISHING LAKE…both of us delighted by the reality that this vanishing lake actually exists (and of course it exists in Ireland!)

We kept driving, slower as instructed, and kept our eyes on the right side of the road. After feeling like we went too far, we turned around and drove even slower until — finally — we spotted it. A slight, unassuming turnoff revealed a wooden gate with a sign so small, we couldn't read it from the road. Dane parked just as it started pouring. Alas, we walked up to the wooden gate with the sign that read:

Welcome to GLENS WOOD from all those 
at Emerald Heritage & Nuatree

 
 

We both laughed and embraced as the rain poured. We hopped the gate into the lush, forested nest that held an abundance of young, growing trees. 

There were ripe blackberries and raspberries growing abundantly on the outskirts while older growth trees watched from the edges of the plot. We walked among dozens of fresh and growing trees as we explored the plot…trees that will grow into forests. Trees that will nourish the ecosystem. Trees that re-weave a forested Ireland. (If you're unaware: Ireland used to be a forest. In the Bronze Age, millions of trees were cut down as the conquerors of the time knew that this relationship nourished the people's power and sacred connection to the land. If you're interested in this, I highly recommend Diana Beresford-Kroeger's book To Speak For the Trees,which shares more about the ancient magic of Ireland and its trees.)

The rain soaked us both to the bone, and yet this felt like a fairytale finale to our travels and this unexpected adventure that required both patience and perseverance.

When we departed the emergent forest, both of us felt more connected to wonder and awe, to each other, to the unexpected magic found when willing to look for it (without any guarantees). I thought of how a part of me wanted to just get on the road earlier and move on…to get somewhere where I could recharge. Unexpectedly, this magical experience recharged and revitalized me in a much deeper and longer lasting way — to the point that when I think of this story today, it gives me the warmest, most magical feeling inside. It continues to feed me years later.

 
 

As we begin a newly numbered year, I've been reflecting on what is needed to grow from the mundane, possibly painful familiar towards a miraculous, raw, real, and regenerative beginning? 

This memory immediately came to mind as a bridge between the two. To me, this simple story is woven with a willingness to keep going — to feed the seeds of spontaneity while moving towards an outcome that is not guaranteed.

This story also speaks to the power of doing things differently.Taking a risk, taking a road less traveled, and the reality that sometimes, going on an adventure that may or may not end in magic doesn't mean that annoyance won't be present on the journey. It doesn't mean that there won't be times you want to give up and move on. It doesn't mean that it won't rain.

This year, no matter what your heartfelt dreams, intentions, desires, and visions are for yourself and the world at large, what might it look like to relate with the delays and detours that will inevitably arise as opportunities for experiencing unexpected magic?

Rather than viewing the outcome of your goals and desires as where you'll find the treasure, what if the treasure you seek is scattered all along the path of the coming year, simply waiting for you to notice and pick it up?

I hope this story inspires you to meet the moments now and ahead with committed curiosity … and may this year ahead lead you to the love, support, care, and miraculous intervention that helps nourish and encourage peaceful change from the inside out. Happy New Year.

with love,
Madeline

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