To Ireland and Back

For the first time since spring and summer ’98, I went back to Ireland this past week.  Back then I was an 18 year old kid, doing kink under graveyards (no, really), playing the bodhran, singing folk music, and learning the oral history of holy wells.  I met my former Master, Marcus, back then, on my way to Ireland via Germany, France and England- romance after initial disconnect.Back at 31, it was a very different journey.  Especially knowing I would be back in September.  I came over to teach classes for The Cinch, a fabulous group of pervs.  I’ll admit, Thursday’s class was disappointing.  You don’t nail every one, and a small group made it harder.  The times before that I have done “From Tits to Tats: Traversing Sex Politics in the First Person” it has been before a packed room of university students.  A handful of pervs- it was a different experience, and one I have to decide if I’ll do in the future.  There are some of my classes, that really, fit better in front of specific audiences.  Some require pre-requisites, some are written for a specific voice- and it’s not all interchangeable.But Saturday’s courses were lovely.  I taught 3 classes, who got progressively larger as the day went on, and it has been intense having conversations about “Rituals for D/s” since that class ended with folks.  People don’t often talk about end of relationships it seems, from a clear headspace, and I do.  I have written about it in the past (see “Cords, Collaring and Uncollaring” in Sacred Kink), and I still think it is important to reflect on these things.  It’s really easy, in the NRE (New Relationship Energy) phase of relationships, to not consider this stuff.  But all relationships end- through break ups, transformations, or end of life.  The few mystical cases where this is not true- love beyond death, etc- have their own issues.However, it was not the classes that were what really struck me this week.  It was the people I spent time with.  The hilarity of the moment when we declared that for the first time in Irish history, 5 bisexual male switches were all in one kitchen (or at least men who play with men and women, and top and bottom- no matter the labels) (and yes, some naughtiness followed).  The delight of sitting in a livingroom getting a concert for one as a local band practiced for a gig next weekend.  The beauty of conversations with folks new to the kink community, and brainstorming with local leaders.Amidst the beauty of people… I also got time off.  Time to *gasp* read a book for fun.  Not books for my work, gaining knowledge for my field of work.  Nope- reading all of Dan Brown’s last book (I’d read the other 4) and having time alone to do so eating at little cafes, reading.  Gods I love reading.  Pouring myself into a reality that another has seen, and finding myself in pieces looking back… or finding something so alien that I am able to hover invisibly and take in this new concept beyond my skin.Mind you, it’s not all fun, right.  Not with Mama watching, not with the wyrd of my life.  Reading about Moloch in Lost Symbol, I find myself looking up the ancient god and the brazen bull, ten minutes before Connor shows a video clip he shot… about Moloch.  Curled up amongst flesh a few days earlier, a comment from eyes not human asking “do you know who I am,” and in my head the name Lugh appearing as my eyes go wide… the next day to find out that Lugh had appeared in their life recently.  Its pervasive.  Everywhere, coincidence is no longer coincidence.Not that it ever was.  Coincidence is something we tell ourselves to make us feel better about the wyrd, the magic, the strangeness that is one of the truths.  It’s all interwoven.  God, Light, Great Architect, Tapestry, Goddess, Pattern, String Theory- it’s there.  Thetis’ daughters, the Fates, they are spinning, measuring and cutting- the middle one blind… and yet, here it is, all woven together.  One thread tugs upon the next.Monday I found myself at Newgrange- luck of a tarot draw after the encounter with Lugh.  This will be a long and slow connection, I think, with the Many-Talented-One.  But the post-it notes are there… Baphomet will have hir space at Dark Odyssey: Fusion, as will Hephaestus and Vesta.  Summer Camp, held during Lughnasa in September… this year- there will be Lughnasa rites dedicated to Lugh.  And in the next year, I must find someone to do a ritual for Qatesh for Dark Odyssey.But this week was not just a time to connect with dedicants of the Morrigan and other pagan practitioners.  Tuesday I wandered off to a local catholic college, taking in tales of being there in the 90s and what it’s like to be bi and studying with men who chose the church over feeling alone as a vocation.  I ate amazing vegan food and talked about teasing out public and private sex lives as kinksters.  I felt flesh under my hands, a sweet puppy boy groaning from the punches and strikes.  I renewed a connection with a new, old, friend.  I held someone who does not normally ask for such things, and talked through our collecting dreams.  I ate amazing home cooked meals and talked about beauty in the world.  I laughed out loud.When visiting foreign countries, or other cities, there is this moment when you part ways with people or a place.  “See you,” has this understatement of “maybe, if the stars align.”  Making friends in other countries, or even for me every week, different states- when will we really see each other again?  Are we just going through the comfortable goodbye motions, not knowing if we actually will see each other again?But I will be back.  September.  I’ll be back for Twisted Leprechaun.  And I’ll be bringing Aiden with me.  This- this kicks ass.  So- See you.  In September :)