Circles of Light
First Published in Ireland in 2010 by
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Copyright: Dr. Mary Helen Hensley
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For Lily and Tommy
You have given us a new
definition of family.
To my Creator, the Source of all that is, the Universe that breathes life in to each and every one of us, goes my undying gratitude for providing such an amazing experience this time around. To all that dwell in the infinite realms, I am touched by your presence. Back on planet Earth…I would like to express my love and appreciation for the lifetime of support I have received from my family. They have created so many opportunities for me to grow, learn and ‘know’ myself. My father’s strength and wisdom and my mother’s positive reinforcement and sense of humour have created joyful and deeply meaningful circumstances in which I have thrived as an individual. I simply can’t thank you enough, Mom and Dad! To Dave, Beth, Jon and their families, I love you all and thank you for your encouragement.
To my extended family in America, old friends that have been part of my story right from the beginning and the new friends that I have been so fortunate to meet along the way. From folks in Martinsville to Hartsville, to Atlanta, to Charleston, to Spartanburg and even the Yankees in Philly, you made me what I am. America will always be home in my heart.
To my second home and my new family across the pond, deep in my soul I could hear Ireland’s call. My life has been so enriched, magical even, since first setting foot on these shores. Maureen, you have been my rock, watching me succeed, screw-up, live in harmony and in complete chaos. The one constant has been your loyal service and friendship. To Emer, I love your buzz and your laughter keeps me going. What a fun office we have! To Suzi, your loving care of my children as well as yours truly, has been such a blessing in our lives.
Not only do you care for us, feed us and love us but you are also a brilliant editor! Everyone should have a Suzi! To Irene, my life events manager, you are simply a beautiful, bright star. To you and the entire
Keenan family, thank you for providing me with the time and the space to work on this book. The launches of these books will always be in your hands, Madame Butterfly!
To Lily, Tommy, Keith, Tina, Annie, Stevie, Gordon and Richard—how could I ever thank you for what you have meant to our lives? You have loved my girls as your own and I am forever grateful.
To Karen, for your loyal friendship and confidence in who I am, I thank you. To Chris, you reminded me that love was a risk I was willing to take again and I am forever in your debt. To Steven, you were the first to read “Promised” and the first to get the first draft of this book—that says it all, my dear friend. To Malika, you kept me going at times when I really wanted to give up.
To Dr. Niall McElwee, my dashing young publisher in triathlon and Ironman mode of late. We’re gettin’ there, dude! I can see the circles of light at the end of the tunnel! I am so grateful for you and your life experiences. You make this all so much fun!
To Mairead, my beautiful agent in the Big Smoke. You ARE the angel in The Angel Shop. I love having you in my life! To Brendan, I thank you for your fantastic suggestions and mechanical know how.
To Paul, your input on getting this project off the ground helped me in ways that you will never know. To the O’Connell family, you have welcomed me with open arms and I simply love having you in my life.
To Barry, I had forgotten what it felt like to fall in love. When I met you…I remembered. Thank you for your endless support. This book was my “Burning Man”.
To all of those who have been gracious enough to permit me to use your names and stories; you know how much you mean to me and now, so does the rest of the world. Thank you for allowing your very special experiences to touch the lives of all of those who will read about you.
And last but not least, my beautiful girls. Jemma Skye and Jada, I am having the time of my life watching you grow. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know exactly who the teachers are and who the
student really is. I love you both and remain in awe of your wisdom and depth of understanding of the way this incredibly beautiful and crazy world works. I am so honoured that you chose me to be your
Mommy. Your father and I love you deeply and you came into this world because of the tremendous love we shared. You are our greatest achievements.
Recently, my mother told me about a conversation she had with her sister, my Aunty Joyce. They were laughing as they both agreed that someday I would make a great politician…maybe even President!
I swelled with pride that they had the confidence that I could become a great leader, until Mom said, “If the tabloids were ever looking for skeletons in your closet, they would be out of luck! You’ve already told everything yourself!” Hmmm…
When I embarked on the journey of writing the story of my life, I did so knowing that if I wanted to achieve the goal of sharing how I have been touched by my connection with the spirit world, then I must tell the entire story. This meant telling my truth. The truth can set you free. The truth can also hurt. But most of all, the truth can be a means by which we really come to know ourselves. Being honest about
the choices we have made in our past and applying the lessons we have learned from all of our experiences, can provide the opportunity to live in a productive, healthy and deeply meaningful way.
Throughout this book, I have attempted to use my own life experiences to highlight some of the challenges that most people have encountered at some time in their lives. We have all experienced different forms of love, happiness, sadness, anger, grief and that awful feeling of having let somebody down. By sharing personal examples of all of these emotions, my hope is that if anyone out there is beating themselves up for being human, for making mistakes, for not feeling good about who they are, they might just see their experiences from a different perspective. The greatest compliment I have received about my first book, “Promised”, is that readers felt as if they were hearing my voice, just like having a one to one conversation. The discussions being open, honest and very frank, without the fear of looking like a fool. I am the first to admit that I have made a whole lot of mistakes. I can also hold my hand up and say that I’ve done some pretty great things too. I think that the idea of having the human experience is to connect with the full spectrum of emotions that being human has to offer. It’s easy to reach the high highs and the low lows but all of the good stuff is really found somewhere in between. Those gray areas that leave us wondering, “Did I do the right thing?” That’s where the growth takes place. The real meat and potatoes of what life has to offer are found in the difficult times and the uncomfortable choices. It is easy to become complacent or lazy when everything works out just right. Strive for happiness and go placidly amidst the noise, but don’t forget, what is static for some, is the sweet sound of self-discovery for others.
Some of the subject matter in this book may be difficult to digest. It is up to the reader to determine what works for them or not. I would however, remind you not to shut down if something makes you uncomfortable. Sit with it for a while and allow yourself the time to discover exactly why. I invite you to use the contents of this book as a tool in your own life. I have included ‘lightbulb moments’ which you
will find throughout the book. These were big revelations for me and I hope they may be of service to you. A portion of the experiences in this book revolve around my former partner, the father of my two girls. I have changed his name out of respect for his privacy and the stories that I share are meant to show what I learned from this relationship. We have all heard that there are three sides to the truth—my side, his side and what actually happened. This is my side. I hope that I have honoured the fact that we are both responsible for the choices that were made during our time together as a couple. I value this man as the greatest mirror I have ever had in my life and will always be grateful for the lessons he provided by allowing me to reach deep within to find out what I was really made of.
I initially thought that this book would consist of a short synopsis of my personal life since moving to Ireland in 1999, to be followed with loads of amazing stories about the sessions I have facilitated as a
metaphysical healer. I planned…God laughed. What I came to realize, was that in order to tell those stories, I had to first give the real story of how they came to pass. The more I wrote, the more I began to see that these events had to follow a natural progression in order to remain authentic. The healing stories are incredible, but they didn’t happen independent of my own life story. They were deeply entwined in my personal experiences, some utterly fantastic and others not so pretty. But this is how it unfolded and this is what I have passed on to you.
It is also important to remember not to get caught up in the fact that I have a ‘gift’. Yes, being clairvoyant and facilitating healing is really cool, and as you will soon find out, it can also be a real challenge. If you want to be impressed, be impressed with the fact that as I write this, I have already put my kids back in to bed twice, I have a load of laundry and dishes on to wash, and I just fed the cat! We’re all gifted and we all have a story to tell. I have been asked about the reason I chose the title “Circles of Light”. For me, it has several meanings. Circles of light refers to the wonderful people that we surround ourselves with. It also pertains to the individual yet intertwined lessons of growth and development that bring us closer to remembering who and what we really are. For anyone who has read “Promised”, you may remember several references made to a ‘Circle of Twelve’. Throughout this book, I have begun to introduce you to a few of the members of this circle of light. These are people who play an invaluable role in my life, members of my soul group that are working towards the same goals that I am.
Although there are twelve working towards one goal, this does not mean that this group is exclusive. Quite the contrary. My circle of twelve fits within a subset of many other circles composed of beautiful and supportive friendships, as does your own. We’re not talking about the Last Supper here where thirteen is a crowd. We all have multiple circles of light. My favourite story behind this title is about the photograph on the cover of the book. Curious? If so, it’s time to turn the page, get stuck
in and discover your own circles of light! Love and laughter,
Mary Helen
Chapter 1
“A wishbone ‘ain’t as likely to get you some place as a backbone.”
—Unknown
“I Want You!”
I turned around to find myself face to waist with Uncle Sam on stilts, decked out in red, white and blue, complete with star spangled top hat. The bearded icon was pointing at me, just as he had looked in the U.S. military recruitment posters of years gone by. Lady Liberty, a woman badly spray painted from head to toe in a strange combination of silver and puke green, was sporting a spiky headpiece that looked
as if it had been made from the insides of a few paper towel rolls. Both American idols were entertaining the masses for the Fourth of July celebrations. ‘Old Glory’ was proudly on display, patriotic tunes wafted through the air and the festive buzz around the airport was spine tingling. It was Dublin, Ireland I had just landed in and not the capital city of the land of the free and the home of the brave!
It had been a long, strange trip. Leaving my practice and boyfriend behind in Philadelphia to chase the meaning of twenty-one ancient symbols, Ireland was more than just my new home. It was the place where I was to discover the purpose behind my capacity to facilitate healing, my innate ability to commune with those in Spirit and most importantly, to dispel the mysteries surrounding who we are as human beings and the legends regarding the very future of our planet.
Work began on the 7th of July in the town of Athlone, County Westmeath. Athlone had been my favourite place on my first excursion through Ireland because it had something… a vibe that is difficult to explain unless you’ve experienced it. Although not known for what one would classically think of when dreaming of quaint Irish towns, its charm and mystique were palpable. I had picked this spot nearly a year and a half earlier; or rather it had picked me.
I was going to take over a Chiropractic practice until my friend Dr. D could find someone to work there permanently. I had made it no secret that I wanted that someone to be me, so in I went, guns blazing, ready to show him the stuff I was made of. There was no way I was going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers and the thoughts of going back to America to live any time in the foreseeable future, were simply unthinkable. I had held up my end of the deal with my Spirit Guides by releasing everything and relocating to this strange and wonderful new place. I fully expected them to see me through it, making sure that at all costs, I was home to stay. Let’s backtrack a moment…Almost two years earlier, while in the last few terms of Chiropractic school, I had begun having the most incredible visions of ancient looking symbols. They always came in threes and were flaming orange in colour; because Spirit has a flawless sense of humour and wanted to be sure that I got the point. I had been casually told by a psychic, who previously knew nothing of these fiery apparitions that I had been seeing symbols in my mind that were acting as a beacon. A distant reminder from my past of the work I was to do in the future.
For a girl who is in ‘the business’ herself, I was surprisingly sceptical when the shoe was on the other foot. I was being told who I had been and who I was to become. The psychic had also said that this work would take place abroad and at the time, the possibility of that happening was seemingly impossible.
The last ten years of my life had been like a whirlwind. From a near death experience in a car accident that took me to another world and back (I’ve discussed this at length in my first book “Promised”), to working with my Spirit Guides on numerous adventures in physic phenomenon and healing, my path had taken an amazing twist. I had left everything and everyone behind in America because I knew in my
heart that the next phase of my journey was to involve discovering the past life memories that Ireland held for me, learning about business, honing my skills as a doctor and healer, as well as being a receptor and
translator of invaluable information from Spirit. My work was cut out for me, but I was proceeding with the unwavering faith that I had been ‘promised’ as a child that this was my destiny. As master of my own fate, I had every intention of serving mankind to the best of my ability. Said abilities being a little on the unusual side, this was a task that I looked forward to with wonder, awe and excitement.
For as long as I can remember, I was always able to see and feel things a bit differently than my friends and family. This unusual gene was an inherited gift from my grandfather, Dr. Garland Clark, a well regarded surgeon from Kentucky, with a little secret. He came to me most nights while I slept as a child, showing me a world beyond what we perceive it to be. The ever changing aura surrounding every living thing was simply a part of my normal vision. I had made it into my mid-twenties before realizing that everyone else did not see the world quite like me. I had also been inclined to have prophetic dreams for the entirety of my life; some were exciting, some would involve the announcement of an upcoming death, others heralded global news and most often, those that allowed me to make sound decisions based on knowledge to which I would have otherwise not been privy. I was also adept at astral projection; leaving my resting body to explore my surroundings or visit with those in Spirit.
Just before my twenty-second birthday, following a direct impact by a car at over 75 mph, I temporarily left my body behind, and the veil of forgetfulness that comes with the human experience was eternally lifted. It is because of this memory and all of its implications that my life forever changed. I was to return a very different young woman than I had been only moments before the crash. It was these changes that were to guide the 360 degree spin I would make in my lifestyle, my vocation and as a steward of humanity. I instantly remembered my birth plan, the blueprint my soul had created to increase its own awareness, and these experiences were to be expressed in this life via the person known as Mary Helen Hensley.
A complete alteration in my career was to follow. Having just left four years of college with degrees in Communications and Graphic Design, I immediately returned to the world of academia (after swearing I was finished with school forever) to pursue a career in Chiropractic. This decision was encouraged by the top notch care I had received from Dr. Anthony Ross on Johns Island, South Carolina, while recovering from a multitude of insidious injuries as a result of the crash. Realizing that there are, in fact, no accidents, I knew that the Universe and my own soul had a different agenda set out for me than the one I was currently living. With a new and unsuspecting husband in tow, I relocated from the beaches of Charleston, to the rolling green hills of Spartanburg, South Carolina to attend Sherman College of Chiropractic. As my new-found life unfolded, different skills and abilities began to express themselves.
Suddenly, I found myself able to facilitate healing. Almost overnight, my already unusual capacity to interact with the world and people around me, took on a whole new quality. I was able to ‘read’ someone’s history, via their auric or etheric field, much like downloading information from the hard drive of a computer. I would then utilise this information to pinpoint the actual time, or specific event that subconsciously prompted an individual to call illness into his or her life, in order to create awareness and growth. By connecting-the-dots, I was able to help a person shake hands with and embrace their illness, creating the opportunity to change their current state of mind and return to health; or in turn, to integrate the purpose of the experience, then release the illness before returning to Spirit, a much wiser soul. It was a time of incredible expansion in my life. I was faced with immense challenges in regards to my work as a healer and even greater ones in my relationship with my husband.
I graduated Chiropractic school as a divorced woman, having gone as far as I was willing to go in my marriage. It was a difficult time, but a decision that I knew in the long run, would be in the best interest of
us both. My world was so entirely different than it had been when I had married.
We cannot force our own life experiences or beliefs upon another human being. I had developed a greater understanding that while there are lessons to be learned from remaining in a relationship and seeing it through to the end of life. For some, the greater lesson is found in the realisation that there are those of us who have chosen at a soul level to experience meaningful relationships with more than one person.
I had been dating an amazing man during my last year at the college and when my frantic attempts to move to Ireland weren’t happening the way I was trying to force them to, I took his lead and moved to Philadelphia to open a practice with him. Dave was inspiring in both his attitude and support of my dreams. He carried on, business as usual while I pined away for the Emerald Isle.
Everything came to a head when I was making a speech early in 1999. I publicly decimated the character of a fellow doctor who I felt was not as philosophically savvy as myself and my mentors. A judgement
that was symptomatic of a series of choices that had diverted me from my soul’s path. I had bottomed out and in my total disappointment at my lack of judgement and crumbling moral fibre, I released all attachments. I called out to the heavens and cried for guidance. The very next day, I was asked to cover a practice in Galway, Ireland for my dear friend, John. We had met while I was completing my last term
of school abroad in England and Ireland. Everything happened at the speed of light and I had just experienced a most important realisation:
Just because we have chosen to follow the way of the Spirit, does not mean that we are immune to the most difficult challenges and moral dilemmas. It is we, who determine the level of intensity, or
degree of difficulty that each situation presents. We spend the first part of our lives struggling to remember that on a soul level, we have actually created our own potential stories in the first place.
When seeking a life of peace, patience and contentment, it will be tribulation that always knocks at your door. How else do we learn the skills and ‘get the goods’? I got it… and from that day forward, tribulation has made numerous up-close and personal appearances, every time I have attempted to paddle upstream! Those of you who have read my first book know exactly what I mean!
I had used every last penny that I had earned in the fledgling practice in Philadelphia, to get to Ireland to start work in the practice in Galway. It was spring of 1999, and John had organised a doctor to work permanently in July. During this time, I had become so focused on my intent that everything fell into place as if by magic. I flew into Shannon airport in Limerick and was greeted by John’s parents, a most gracious and welcoming couple that as coincidence would have it, hailed from my dream location, the town of Athlone. Danny and Mary Fay were charming and full of wonderful stories about the Irish way of life. It was easy to see where John had picked up his amazing people skills. As they say in the Midlands, “…he didn’t lick it off the floor.” Everything was proceeding nicely and my experience in Galway was nothing short of incredible. My only dilemma was the pesky little detail that I had no place to go after John’s new doctor arrived in July.
This time, rather than getting myself all worked up and into a negative tailspin, I held fast to my conviction that I was following my chosen path and all would work out the way in which Spirit intended
it to. So, after finishing in Galway, I took a break with some friends and went on a sailing trip around the west coast of Scotland. Deeply enamoured with the beauty of this place that I knew in my soul,
had been part of my past, I wrapped myself in the tranquility of the Scottish Isles and lived in the moment. In that space of perfect peace I received a phone call that may as well have come directly from heaven’s hotline. My old friend Dr. D needed me to take over a practice he owned…wait for it…in the town of Athlone! I had asked, manifested and now received exactly the opportunity I had wanted, in the place that I longed to call home.
A quick trip back to the States to pack up my belongings, also made way for what I would consider, a textbook example of how a relationship can end. Dave and I knew that our time as a couple had seen its last day. With profound love and affection we let each other go with nothing but gratitude for the time we had spent together and best wishes for the next step on our journeys apart. With bags in hand, willing to accept nothing more than a permanent relocation, I now found myself wandering through the Dublin airport on Independence Day; July 4th, 1999. It was better than a dream; this was my new
reality, I had created it, and I was eager to start this thrilling new chapter in the story of my life.
Chapter 2
“A true friend is someone who thinks you are a good egg even though e knows you are slightly cracked.”
—Bernard Meltzer
I had always cringed at the concept of permanent residence, particularly the thoughts of owning things like a washing machine and dryer. Somewhere in my twisted perception, owning these devices equated being stuck. Finding a place to live in Athlone should have been first on the agenda, considering I had just relocated continents. I should have wanted to choose a place that I could finally plant some roots. I had moved so many times in my twenties that my vagabond soul should have been craving some stability. But I hated the idea of being stuck. This was a phenomenon that also seemed to be deeply ingrained in my romantic relationships and had seen me jump ship when I felt stifled or trapped, or as I later learned, when I was simply finished learning from the person in a productive manner. This was why my current love interest was so intriguing…
Not only had Dr. John Fay been instrumental in my move to Ireland by providing a work opportunity, but we had an amazing chemistry. Our mutual passions for Chiropractic, rock bands and commanding an audience made us a force to be reckoned with. Were we dating? Hmmm…to quote Ireland’s RTE 2 FM, let’s just say ‘We were livin’ the life and lovin’ the music’. We were reconnecting with our past and building the foundation for an unshakable friendship in the future. John understood me and accepted my gifts for what they were. He, in fact, was no stranger to psychic experiences, himself. He lived in Dublin and I was now working in Athlone. My few belongings resided at Maureen’s house, my amazing new office manager. I should have taken stocks in Irish Rail, as I spent so much time on the train back and forth between Dublin and Athlone. The urgency to find a place to live eluded me and I was having an absolute ball living out of my well worn suitcase.
You see, every time I went on an adventure with John, something extraordinary or extraordinarily funny always happened. John embodied everything I love about the Irish and the Irish culture, and if he wasn’t saying it or doing it, he was giving a priceless monologue on whoever was. I think back to earlier that year when I was on one of my mercy trips to Ireland (the kind where I was hoping someone would
have mercy and give me a job!) It was early May, and Manchester United football team was in pursuit of winning the treble. It was the day of the second of three matches: an attempt at the almighty FA cup. All of the pubs were full to the rafters with those who wanted to see Man U reign victorious and just as many who did not. Regardless of the outcome, there wasn’t a football fan around not glued to the television that afternoon. John decided we would join in the buzz, so we went to watch the showdown at a local pub in Raheny. We met a mutual friend and favourite character of mine, Johnny Sheeran, along with some of his other high-spirited mates. The afternoon did not disappoint, and the atmosphere in The Cedars Pub was electric, even for a gal that doesn’t really hold a soft spot for soccer.
After an hour or so in the pub, nature called so I excused myself from the table of lads (I always seemed to be the only girl at these things). I went into the bathroom. The lock on the stall door wasn’t working, so I just closed the door and went about my business. No sooner than I had perched myself atop the bowl, did the stall door open and I was greeted by the semi-toothless smile of a sweet little old lady. One would expect the usual; a slight gasp, with a quick apology for the intrusion, to be followed by the door being promptly closed.
But this was Ireland, and this woman was going nowhere. “Jaysus love, what happened to ya?” she belted out with a concern that almost hid the fact that her curiosity was killing her! At first, I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea what she was talking about and was still a bit stunned by the fact that this stranger
was standing there holding the door wide open while I was trying to use the toilet. Suddenly it hit me. Being May and having just come from America where prime sun-bathing season was already well under
way, I looked down at the dark tan line of my perfectly waxed bikini area and realised that this woman was gazing upon her very first Brazilian wax job. Barely able to contain my laughter, I paused before
saying, “Alopecia. I have Alopecia ‘Mam. Well, next thing I knew, in she walked, right into the stall with me and patted me on the head. “Ahhh, God love ya girl, God love ya. I’ve never seen the cut of it
in me life!” Then out she walked! Not only was I in hysterics, but I was laughing so hard when I returned to my table that I had to tell the boys, because some things in life are just too funny not to share. But wait, it gets better. When Man United took the cup that afternoon and all were full to the gills with the sweetest pints of Guinness, John and I said our goodbyes and headed for the door. Well, who did we see? Only the little old dear from the toilet and about six of her friends, sitting at a corner table by the door. She had obviously gone back to the old darlings and told them of the horror she had witnessed earlier in the afternoon. As true as I am sitting here, the next moment is one I will never, ever forget. Each one rose up her glass and in unison gave me a wink and a nod, sympathizing with my plight. In their own way, they were letting me know that I would be in their thoughts and prayers. John and I fell out of the pub laughing and I fell deeper in love with what it means to be Irish.
This story is a classic example of one of the many reasons Ireland appeals to me so much. I have been asked countless times why in the world would I have left sunny South Carolina to come to the changeable climate of Ireland. The first and most obvious answer is that my happiness and the continuity of my good mental state are not dependent on the weather. For some people, this is a make or break factor, as I would find out in the not so distant future. And putting aside the bizarre spiritual journey that brought me to Ireland in the first place, I find the Irish sense of humour unmatched anywhere around the globe.
The ability to laugh at oneself is the first and often greatest step in the healing process.
When I wasn’t burning up the tracks to Dublin to see John Fay, I spent a good bit of time going West or ‘Wesht’ as they say in Athlone. I had fallen in love with Galway when I worked there and my favourite haunt had become a pub called The Quays on Shop Street. While I adored the pubs where the locals congregated to listen to a few tunes, I equally loved the atmosphere in The Quays. The vast majority of its patrons were either from another part of Ireland or tourists from some other part of the world. Lots of Irish will roll their eyes and chuckle at the cheesy tourists, particularly the Americans, with cameras in hand, classic travel gear and the volume on ninety (Why is it that when we Americans can’t understand an accent or think we can’t be understood, we talk louder?). I was guilty of it, and now, ten years down the line I have finally reduced my volume! I loved going to The Quays because it had the same buzz of excitement and anticipation as an airport, but without the hassles. Everyone was just so thrilled to be there, with life’s troubles left somewhere else, and the opportunity to meet someone from another country, sat waiting on every bar stool. The after-hours venue next door always had the most amazing bands, with the chance to dance ‘til the wee hours with new friends from faraway places. It was such a blast! Each time I went to Galway I would set up camp in the same Bed and Breakfast that I had the great fortune to discover on my very first stay in Galway. Corleck House was unlike any B&B I had ever stayed in, and at that time in my travels, I had seen my fair share. Greeted at the door by Elvis and Marilyn, the lovable dogs that ruled the roost, it was as if all of my Christmases had come together at once, because standing at the door was a man that looked a bit like Santa. With a big smile shining out from behind a white beard, he had a round belly that shook with contagious laughter. Sean Leydon was Irish but had lived many years in America and had decked out Corleck House with
Paraphernalia from the States, particularly in the bar…yes, the bar.
This was no ordinary B&B, it had the most beautiful timber frame bar, complete with wooden floors and ceilings, shiny beer taps and a refrigerator full of beverages. The eating area had the most fantastic collection of American Indian gear, from tapestries and paintings to an enormous Indian chief’s head dress. It didn’t stop there. Each bedroom was themed with posters and paintings featuring film stars like John Wayne and Marilyn Monroe. By far, and to this day, it’s the best accommodation of its kind I’ve ever stayed in. Many fantastic nights were spent in Corleck House, now known as ACE B&B. More often
than not, the best ‘craic’ of the night was had after the pubs and clubs had closed and the party moved back to 19 College Road. (Craic, by the way, means fun in Ireland). In the morning, the smell of a massive fry-up of sausages, rashers, eggs, and toast permeated the house and after Marilyn and Elvis had been served a king’s feast, the rest of us would eat!
Although we don’t see each other as often as I would like, Sean and I have remained friends throughout the years and I still go to him whenever I stay in Galway. He has since slimmed down and streamlined his act, after marrying his very beautiful and tolerant wife. Becoming a father later in life has also softened his edges in a most delightful way. My Irish experience was off to a great start and many of its early memories remain safely tucked away within the walls of Corleck House.
Chapter 3
“Rock ‘n Roll is ridiculous. It’s absurd. In the past, U2 was trying to duck that. Now we’re wrapping our arms around it and giving it a great big kiss.”
—Bono
That same summer, John, our friend Mim and I went to see a very well known American singer. The gig was on in Vicar Street, a brilliant venue in Dublin and intimate enough that we actually got to go up and chat with the band after the show. As soon as they heard my accent (the Southern draw was even heavier in those days), we were invited back to their hotel for the after show party. The night was comical to say the least, as hanging out with famous musicians can lead to all kinds of antics. On this particular night, it was the conversation that captivated my attention. While John was getting a drunken earful from the band’s manager about what a ‘cheap son of a bitch’ this particular musical legend was, I noticed that sitting at the bar, one of the band members was having a quiet pint, far removed from all of the carry on. He motioned for me to come and sit next to him. He had me at hello. “You know”, he said, licking the creamy Guinness foam from around his lips. “Everyone here is not really from here, right?” At first I was wondering if I should play dumb and see where he was going with this. I knew well what was coming next. This certainly hadn’t been the first time that I had met someone like him so I just sat back and listened. “I’m Pleiadian, or at least that’s where I incarnated from. Did you ever hear of it?”
He was referring to the open star cluster located in the constellation of Taurus. My new friend looked at me with a slight grin, knowing full well that I knew what he was talking about. What was so interesting at the time was not that this man was professing his extraterrestrial ancestry to me; it was his dread-locked hair, Southern swagger and funky attire that cracked me up. John said he resembled a ‘tidy’ Rick James! He was the last person you would expect to be coming at you with a detailed history of inter-stellar travel, talking about the choice to leave his own realm to experience life on Earth. But sure, after all of my past encounters with people who remembered where they had come from, I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised. I
suppose I was more amused than anything, wishing I had chosen to incarnate into a persona as cool as his! “Why do you think I chose music, man? It’s all about the tones and vibration.”
We proceeded to have an amazing conversation about his choice to live life with complete memories intact of where he had come from before he came to Earth. I explained that although I had always been
different than my family and peers, I hadn’t remembered what it was all about until my near death experience lifted the amnesia cloaking who and what I really was, and where we all come from. Prior to my accident, although I had been exposed to interacting with those in Spirit, I had never really entertained the idea that Earthlings weren’t the only inhabitants of this vast Universe. Once I had realised that my
soul was merely occupying my body, much like a driver occupies a vehicle, I was able to integrate the realisation that we most certainly are not alone in the cosmos.
Our friend Mim then entered the conversation and I left her to talk with this most intriguing character where she remained firmly in place until the early hours of the next day. I would periodically look over and laugh, as her face would give away the fact that he was blowing her mind and she, in turn, blowing his, with her depth of understanding. This meeting was a wonderful reminder that I had been promised
at the time of my crash that events like this would regularly occur in my life, giving me guidance and confidence that I wasn’t alone on this strange journey I had chosen. At this point, I had been blessed with
many so-called strangers who knew that I had experienced death and returned with the knowledge that we forget, in order to experience life in human form. I had met members of my soul group who reminded me that I had chosen my path before I ever came in to this incarnation. Their appearances in my life, no matter how brief, meant that these numerous messengers touched my life at specified moments with concrete proof and reassurance that I was still actually in touch with reality. These magical events were happening with purpose.
This encounter with a kindred spirit had touched on something that was of great interest to me. I, like so many others, am entranced by music. I had been taught the fundamentals of music very early on in the church that my family attended when I was growing up. I had been a singer from age four, and played various instruments throughout my life such as recorder, hand bells, clarinet and piano. When I hit my rock chick phase, I took up the electric keyboard. I had always had a keen interest in certain sounds which trigger specific reactions within my body, some tones in particular literally ‘striking a chord’ with my soul. I had been into a wide variety of music, and growing up in the South had exposed me to the power of Gospel, as well as Southern Rock. Funny enough, country music was huge where I lived. However, something about the vast majority of it rubbed me the wrong way. I had gone through the punk and heavy metal phase in high school and college, but found that after my accident, my hard wiring had changed. I was no longer able to tolerate the harshness of these types of music.
One of the most vivid memories I have of transitioning from this world to the next, was the haunting drone I could hear as I looked down at my body, trapped in the car. I was still in this dimension, but
out of my body as I watched people scrambling around trying to get me out of the demolished vehicle. The moment I left that space, I zoomed through a tunnel of light and into the realm where I met with
my spirit guides. The drone that I had heard was replaced with sounds that I can’t even attempt to liken to anything I’ve ever heard on this planet. The sounds resonated in such a way that they felt as if they
were coursing through my very being, aligning me with the Universe and returning me to my true self. After reviewing my life to that point in time, then regaining my memory of who and what I really am, I
made the decision to return and carry out the new direction that would change the way I had been living my life.
The soul cleansing vibrations changed once again to the haunting drone I heard when I first left my body. I crashed back into my broken body at break-neck speed, literally breaking my neck. I am fairly certain that the drone was the sound made by the increased vibration of my soul’s energy as it was released from the confines of my physical form. When I left the Earth plane the vibrations continued to speed up and became the tones that I heard while in spirit form. After being exposed to the sensation of the feelings and the beauty associated with resonating at that frequency, there was an immediate change in my ability to listen to harsh or screechy types of music. I still love loud music, and due to the fact that I lost the hearing in my left ear after the accident, the music has to be louder, but the quality of the music has to be such, that I can connect with tones and chords that lift my vibration, as opposed to lowering it.
In his book, “This Is Your Brain on Music”, Daniel J. Levitin shares his research on the effect that music has on the human brain. “Listening to music causes a cascade of brain regions to become activated in a particular order: first, auditory cortex for initial processing of the components of the sound. Then frontal regions, which we had previously identified as being involved in processing musical structure and
expectations. Finally, a network of regions—the mesolimbic system—involved in arousal, pleasure and the transmission of opioids and the production of ndopamine, culminating in activation in the nucleus accumbens. And the cerebellum and basal ganglia were active throughout, presumably supporting the processing of rhythm and meter. The rewarding and reinforcing aspects of listening to music seem then to be mediated by increasing dopamine levels in the nucleaus acumbens, and by the cerebellum’s contribution to regulating emotion through its connections to the frontal lobe and the limbic system. Current neuro-psychological theories associate positive mood and affect with increased dopamine levels, one of the reasons that many of the newer antidepressants act on the dopaminergic system. Music is clearly a means for improving people’s moods.”
Ah yes, science always catches up, eventually. I can’t recommend this book enough to those who are interested in any facet of music. It is thoughtful, witty, well researched, and while scientifically based, easy to absorb. Levitson does a brilliant job at bridging the gap between how we feel and why we feel the way we do, when listening to music of any type.
The undeniable intertwining of the physical and emotional bodies that house the spiritual body, explains why rediscovering the infinite uses of tone and vibration to heal, are paramount.
The intertwining of the physical and emotional bodies through the use of tone and vibration was something I would see first-hand in the traditional Irish music scene. Being from a part of America that
wasn’t heavily populated by Irish immigrants, the only times I had really experienced Irish music of any sort was on St. Patrick’s Day. This was usually some background CD playing the ‘hiddle dee diddly’
style tunes to create an atmosphere on the day. I got my first dose of live, toe-tapping Irish music on my maiden voyage to Ireland when I stumbled upon Sean’s Bar in Athlone. When translated into Irish, Athlone means Atha Luain or the ford of Luain. Dating back to 900 A.D., what is now known as Sean’s Bar, was an Inn and home to Luain, the Innkeeper that would guide people across the dangerous waters of the antediluvian ford. The Guinness Book of World Records researched and verified records, granting Sean’s Bar the official title of ‘Oldest Pub in Ireland’. (www.seansbar.ie) Under low, wood-beamed ceilings and saw-dust covered floors, I heard an old Fiddler, Uilleann Piper, a Guitarist, Tin Whistler and
Bodhran player creating the most bewitching sounds. The pipes caught my attention first because of the familiar drone that reminded me of being out of body. The acoustics matched the incredible ambiance
in the pub and I was immediately hooked. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better I heard a man saying, “Whisht! Hold ‘yer whisht!”
Although I didn’t have a clue what ‘whisht’ was, I gathered by the quietening of the crowd that we were meant to ‘shut up’. A black-haired, blue-eyed Irish beauty set down her pint and stood next to the musicians. Mouth agape, I listened for the first time to the most haunting rendition of what has become one of my favourite songs.
My young love said to me, my mother won’t mind
And my father won’t slight you, for your lack of kind
Then she went away from me, and this she did say
It will not be long love, ‘til our wedding day.
She stepped away from me, and she moved through the fair
And fondly I watched her, move here and move there
Then she whispered to me, with one star awake
As the swan in the evening
Moves over the lake.
You could hear a pin drop as everyone stopped dead in their tracks. Conversations ceased as all eyes focused on this heavenly voice; even the barmen stopped taking orders until she finished. After a rousing round of applause, everything kicked back into high gear, musicians played, people talked and laughed and I sat with tears in my eyes, so moved by this woman’s song. I couldn’t believe that everyone
simply went back to normal after having the great privilege to hear what must have been a professional singer, lamenting about her true love. I went to her and asked about the song and her history as a
singer. “Ah now, it’s just a bit of craic. Mine is a voice for the pub”, she said sincerely. I hadn’t yet realised that nearly every second person in this country has the voice of an angel or the ability to play some sort of instrument.
Humour me, as I jump back to the summer of ‘99 for a moment…I had met a couple of girls from Australia who were on a European excursion for the summer holidays. They had heard tale of a session in the little town of Ballymahon, Co. Longford, about twenty minutes away from Athlone. My office manager Maureen, cheerfully piled us into her car and drove us to Skelly’s pub. We were greeted by its owners, Pat, a local, and his stunner of a wife Patrice, from Brazil. They invited us in as if we were family, and it was there that I was to meet two of the men who would help shape my future in regards
to music. The session looked fairly typical, only this one included a keyboard player; something I had not yet seen at a traditional session.
Once again, I was reminded of the amazing level of skill of these amateur session musicians, playing for the sheer enjoyment of it. The keyboard player, Ernie Foy, supported the melodies with incredible ability and ease. His flawless style took the tunes to a whole new level and I couldn’t believe these guys weren’t on stage somewhere with a few albums under their belts. The fact that Ernie was tall, blonde and
gorgeous didn’t hurt either! I was particularly intrigued with the bodhran player. He had a drum that I hadn’t seen before; one with screws that allowed him to tune it to create an entire range of tones. He played in a style that I also had never seen, literally making the bodhran sing as he tapped out intricate beats that the other musicians followed. I had seen the bodhran played as a background support only and when this fellow launched into a hilarious tune called Lannagin’s Ball, all I wanted to do was learn to play this instrument.
As fate would have it, I ran into these same musicians at a session in a pub called The Shack, just up the road from my office. With its old world charm and open fire places, it certainly fit the bill. I recognised the lads instantly and they had remembered me from the session in Ballymahon. It was Niall that introduced himself first, and we became fast friends from that moment on. A handsome devil, in fairness, Niall reminded me of someone that had been removed from another era and dropped into the late 20th century, just to shake it up a bit. He always looked the part with his Irish cap, shirt and vest, and he had a genuine love and respect for the art of the perfect glass of porter. He embodied a characteristic that I had always found so amusing about the Irish in general—it is not uncommon to take on some other colloquial accent, to drive a point home, to tell a story or to make a room erupt with laughter.
I had become aware of this hysterical form of communication from listening to my patients on a daily basis. This is what I meant when I said that the sense of humour in Ireland had me hooked. ‘Taking the piss’ out of oneself, or in jest with each other is rampant in conversation, the radio, television, you name it. It lightens the load, is great for a laugh and is a harmless interaction that promotes the highest of cosmic rules.
Taking life too seriously is bad for your health.
Behind every good man…you know where I’m going wit this! Niall was no exception. At every gig, Niall’s partner was there, not only to support him, but to contribute her own talents, as well. Gwenelle was from the French Alps, a natural beauty and an extremely talented artist across the board. She balanced Niall with her quiet demeanour and her knowledge of music, nature and spirituality was
vast. Many is the night that Gwenelle would smile quietly as Niall was on the top side of a table performing for the masses.
When I first told Niall that I wanted to learn to play the bodhran, he laughed and said, “That’s great Mary, but the question is, will you stick with it? The amount of punters who see me beaten’ the goat (the skin of the drum is traditionally goat’s skin) thinking it’s so easy, usually give up. It’s hardly worth my time, but if you really want to, we’ll give it a go.” And give it a go I did. Niall loaned me one of his old bodhrans
to start, because a decent new one could range anywhere from £500. (It was 1999—we were still in pounds or punts then). Poor Maureen, when I think back on it. I was determined to prove Niall wrong, and was not going to satisfy his smarminess by quitting, no matter how long it took. Because the practice was only beginning to build at the time, there was a lot of spare time in between patients. I would sit in the back room of the office, banging away on the drum while Maureen endured me with the patience of a saint. That was definitely not in her job description, but she loved me and I loved her, so tolerate it she did.
I began going to sessions on an almost nightly basis. My God, when I think of all of the free time I had then I could weep! One thing I have to say about the circle of friends I was making was their patience with me. Nothing is worse than a poorly played bodhran—a session killer Niall would say. So I was sure to play along quietly, watching Niall’s every move, realising just how difficult it was to play this instrument well. My one saving grace was that I’m a decent singer. I was graciously given the floor regularly, and began to build an entirely different repertoire of songs than those I had sung in the
past. Being such a massive fan of U2, I found that many of their songs suited my voice and along with some traditional ballads, I was actually able to hold my own in a session. Ernie, the fabulous keyboard player, had been kind enough to ask me to do some gigs with him on a Monday night in Sean’s Bar.
Different again, his style was more contemporary and opened up yet another avenue in regards to my song choices. Monday was spent in Sean’s, Tuesday in great little spot called Nut’s Corner. Wednesday
was the big session in The Castle Inn across from Sean’s. Thursday we rested. Friday was spent with a different crew, in Glasson Village at Farrell’s Pub. Saturday night was in the most authentic, family owned pub called Flannery’s, and the Sunday afternoon session in Sean’s was not to be missed.
I submerged myself in the music culture and the friendships I developed have remained central in my life. Kieran, Greg, Tony, Shea and Ellen were the core group of musicians that I played with in one set of sessions. Fiona, Milo, Steven, Anne Marie and Paul kindly put up with me in the other sessions. Niall simply seemed to be a presence at all of the sessions. Not only were these people incredibly talented, they were very forgiving as I learned my way around the bodhran. They became valued friends and I got to know each of their families, as well. There is no better way to establish yourself in a community, than getting out there and participating. Because I was always out and about, I also made business contacts, which I would have never made otherwise.