Oh, where to start!
Let’s begin with the Irish blood in my veins, the stubbornness, the humour that refuses to be silenced, the way we carry stories like fire through the generations. I am proud of the whispers of the druids, who knew the land and the stars better than anyone today, who honored the cycles of life instead of racing past them with our heads stuck in screens.
And yet, my curiosity doesn’t stop at Ireland’s misty hills. I look to the Mayans and other ancient peoples who read the heavens and the earth with reverence, whose rituals and knowledge vanished into time, yet still speak to those willing to listen. There’s a beauty in that, humanity reaching for the sacred, for meaning beyond survival, for a connection we’ve mostly forgotten.
I’m proud of that thread, running from Ireland’s sacred groves to the temples of Central America, tying us to the mystery of existence. It’s a heritage of intuition, rebellion against the shallow, and the courage to look beyond what everyone else calls “practical.”
And I’m endlessly interested in it because it reminds me: we are bigger than our mistakes, deeper than our distractions, and we still have much to remember.
Mae 🧡
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