When I first went to Iona, I had never heard the phrase 'thin place', but having been there, as soon as I heard it, I felt that I understood it. I understood what the Celts were talking about when they talked of places where it seemed that the veil between Earth and Heaven had been lifted.
My mum is lucky enough to live in a beautiful part of Scotland, on the west coast. Just off the coast is the Isle of Mull and beyond it, the smaller island of Iona. I'd wanted to visit it for a long time and finally got the chance jut before I moved to New Zealand.
To get there, we took
a ferry from Oban to the Isle of Mull, drove about an hour across Mull and then
took another ferry to Iona. Things had been looking pretty dull and cloudy when
we crossed to Mull, there were a few smatterings of rain as we drove, but when
we landed on Iona, the clouds divided and we were bathed in sunshine radiating
from bright blue skies. The white sand and sun made the sea turn a bright
aquamarine and it was hard to imagine the place ever being anything but bright
and clear.
Iona has always been a
significant place in Celtic Christianity. It is said to be the place where St
Columba landed when he was exiled from Ireland. As we walked through the Abbey and I remember feeling an incredible
serenity. I had left South Africa a few days previously after a difficult, heart-wrenching trip, and a week later I would move my life to the other side of
the world. Serenity was not something that came naturally at that point. But
being there felt like closing my eyes and taking a refreshingly deep breath.
Africa, it was Jericho's Walls. I think the thing about it was the silence.
Sitting on the edge of the gorge, it felt like the surrounding air was weighing
heavy on my ears to block out all external noises. It felt like every breath I
took in and out was significant, planned. And no matter the turmoil going on
outwardly, the weighty air brought an escape and a clarity, because in
this place, where I could feel every breath of mine, I could feel the whisper
of God’s breath.
In New Zealand, there is Raglan. In Northern Ireland, there is the North Coast. And I'm not done discovering them.
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