September 18th Our Walk with the Forces at a Well near Sneem & Staigue Fort

Google Map coordinates are for meeting at Staigue Fort at 11 am.  We will drive from there to the sites that we will be visiting with local people.

In the evening we will travel to our 4th Oíche Comhluadar, in Fermoyle, Kerry.
Please follow the link in the brown bar to book for this event.
Location and address will be provided when you confirm your booking.

Click here to register for Staigue Fort and the Well at Sneem.

Our walk with the Forces at a well site near Sneem and Staigue Fort

“This beautiful site overlooks the Ring of Kerry between Castlecove and Westcove.  Sneem and Staigue Fort are close by.  A number of Irish people have been working within the “Field of Tantra Maat” for many years now and a few of our journey points were brought to our awareness by them.  This is one of those sites.  We know nothing about it yet except that it is called to be on our route and visited.  We trust that whatever it has for us will be revealed and based on the way much of the journey has come into being, it will be very interesting.  It is likely that we will visit another point that has been selected for us during the day also.”

I am taking time on this diary entry to honor an amazing hardly-known man, who walked the wells, ringforts, and faerie rings in the area of the Staigue Fort that we got to be a part of. I cannot recreate his depth of intelligence. What I did get to witness was how the etheric realities of what he called paramagnetism responded to him. I got to understand an intelligence we all carry in our direct link to this earth that I had always experienced but had no understanding of.

It is no accident that Anne and others felt that paramagnetism in these areas that Philip was so intrigued by. For me, this is a powerful part of what we are doing that as the linkages to the earth and the intelligence of the forces is so strong there.

Thank you, Philip S. Callahan, as many of us are continuing to build the connection between the forces and human beings.

Werner Erhard, of est and Landmark, once said to a crowd of 7,000 on satellite after our discussion, “You may not understand a word she said, but there is more under heaven and earth that you will ever understand. What you do know is that she isn’t just someone hanging out in a diner.” I would like to pay the same homage to Philip S. Callahan.

There is nothing more joy-filled that I have seen in my walk with human beings than recognizing themselves as part of the greater mysteries.

Excerpt from

Chapter Twenty-Nine 

An Irish Tale of a Modern Mystic

The Ringfort

It rains what in Ireland. I know people know that, but you never realize what the words, ‘it rains people in Ireland’ really mean until you are there when it rains. There are several terms for rain in Ireland. There is ‘soft rain’ which is mostly what we have in the United States. This is rain where, if we didn’t use an umbrella, we would get drenched.

Then there is ‘pissin’ rain. That is something we don’t get very often in the USA. ‘Pissin’ rain is a deluge, a blinding torrential flood coming from the sky, a ‘clammy moisture’ pouring into the marrow of your bones, making your clothes so sopping wet that ‘warm’ is impossible.

I found that the weather of Ireland moved with the emotions of the people on our quests. Often when the weather forecast predicted rain, if our spirits were high, the rain backed off and brilliant serrated orange and red sky-art plumbed the heavens.

The five years I walked the land before I brought people here. If I saw a rainstorm coming toward me, I would let myself move into whatever deep emotions I was present to and weep with any grief I had for my life, for the planet, or for humankind. When I was complete, the rain would dissipate. I can listen and communicate with the weather even to this day.

On one particular quest, the majority of people came weathering personal storms, so it was no accident that we traveled half the trip in ‘pissin’ rain.

After the first trip that Con and I did together, part of our private banter was about what each of us was ‘listening to’. On this trip, Con got back at me for all the times I wouldn’t explain myself and only asked him to ‘listen’.

The night before, we had arrived at our lodging located in an isolated valley off the famed Ring of Kerry. After enduring another wet day, we peeled out of our soaked outer clothing and huddled around a large peat-burning fireplace. Our waterlogged boots lined the hearth. To our dismay, we discovered the hot water heater was busted. We heated water on the cook stove for people to hand bathe. We struggled to stay awake until dinner was ready.

However, our chef, ‘Beloved Jim’, was more than just a cook. He was a natural healer who knew the magical power of food and was ready for us. Each plate he served carried a color scheme of appearance, texture, and taste. Every morsel fed our bedraggled emotions as well as our weary spirits.

Before our meal, everyone was exhausted and longed for bed. Fortified by Jim’s ‘magical’ food, we revived and gravitated to the fire. Curled up next to each other, we shared the stories of our day late into the night. Finally, satiated by each other’s company, we went to bed.

At seven in the morning, when it was still dark outside, Con stormed into my room, woke me up, and ordered me out of bed. Groggy-eyed, I stared at him from under the duvet. Quite animated, he shouted me awake.

“We have to be on the bus in 20 minutes!”

I struggled up, my Irish bedding wrapped defensively around my naked body.

Fearing the inn was about to be washed away I stammered, “Why do we have to get up exactly?”

In radiant triumph, he looked at me and said, “Because I’m listening.”

We had planned to go to a ringfort later that day. I was hoping for ‘much later’. The ringfort where we were headed was known as Cathair na Stéige or Staigue. Ringforts were perfectly round stone citadels built during the chaotic period of the early Iron Age (800BC-400CE). Fortified with ten foot or higher walls, they were used both as a defense as well as for Celtic ritual. Legend had it that they carried magic that protected the surrounding settlements.

I had planned on sleeping in and then seeing if the weather had cleared enough for us to go. However, now it didn’t matter if the weather was clear. Con was clear. Something had motivated Con to get there much earlier than we planned. And so, reluctantly, I was clear it was time to go.

In western Ireland, it often rained in the mornings and cleared up around noon. Getting up early in the morning did not seem good at all. Yet Con had said the magical words “I am listening”, so we rushed breakfast, donned damp coats, and lined our wet boots with plastic bags and multiple socks. Con herded us onto the bus and we headed for the fort. The early morning sun hid behind the clouds, but as we neared the fort, the rain shifted from ‘pissin’ to ‘soft’. The dreariness of the muddy downpour of the recent days had worn us down. So in any kind of rain, we were not ‘happy campers.

As we approached, we were startled to see a string of black SUVs lined up outside the fort. SUVs are not the cars of choice in Ireland. For a minute, I wondered if somehow the CIA and the President of the United States had decided to visit this obscure ringfort in the middle of nowhere.

Infused by a possible mystery, we unloaded. No one seemed to be bothered by our presence. As we entered the ringfort we could not miss the eight men standing in their full-length black raincoats, legs wide, facing out, hands clasped behind their backs. Clearly bodyguards or secret service. Not something you expect to find in the west of Ireland.

When I come into an ancient site, I always take a moment and put my forehead onto it near the entrance. That way, I can go back in time and see the past events that happened and experience earlier worlds. So as I entered the fort, with half of it roped off by the bodies of large burly security guards, I went to the unguarded part and put my forehead against the stone wall.

Just as I started to transport back in time, I heard someone say, “Cead Mile Failte!” (In English, A Hundred Thousand Welcomes!) I raised my head and looked into the eyes of a young Irish man who was clearly psychic. There is a look to those of us who can truly see. We seem like we are standing somewhere other than the place you see us, being with something you cannot see.

“Are you Tantra?” he asked. He introduced himself as Richard Waterborn’s friend, Liam. Richard had told Liam about me.

I said that yes, I was Tantra and asked him if he knew what they were doing. He said they were scientists who were measuring the quantum fields of feminine and masculine energy in ringforts. To the average person, this may not seem like much, but it is. There is a heritage of worlds that have been forgotten. When you begin to understand energy, you begin to understand the consciousness we live, move, and exist within.

Rediscovering that the feminine quantum fields were life-giving and life-enhancing and the source of all life on the planet could be very disturbing to a male energy dominated world, but it could also begin to put things right. People once built their structures in communication with the earth, so the earth could inform and protect them. The scientist that stood on one of the walkways inside the walls was out to prove it.

Liam asked if I wanted to meet him. I said yes.

He got permission and returned to show me through. As he began to usher me through the maze of bodyguards, Con attached himself to my back, and announced to the guards as we moved through, “I am her bodyguard!”

Con and I looked comical as we walked as one body up the stone steps built into the fort to where the scientist was. I watched as a metronome looking wand moved back and forth on an instrument and then at some point stopped. Philip S. Callahan, a professor as well as a scientist told me that they were measuring the quantum field in the fort. I asked him if I could touch the wand.

He said, “This only measures quantum fields, not people, but, sure, go ahead.” I put my hand close to the wand without actually touching it and it moved back and forth registering, registering, registering. The man was amazed. Con whispered into my ear, “Well, that’s a h__ of a calling card!”

I found it quite satisfying to be recognized as carrying an energy field that went beyond my own humanness. I had always known that, but to prove it was great!

We listened to Professor Phil speak about things that went ‘mostly’ over our heads. Since Con had worked with people all over the world identifying Ireland’s sacred sites, he offered to take the professor with us to some sights that hardly anyone knew about.

Offer accepted, we returned to our inn for our midday meal and readied for our unexpected afternoon outing. Everyone was happy. A connection had happened because Con had ‘listened’.

In Ireland, something is always brewing: a storm, a cup of tea, an Irish yarn, or the next great mystery. Veils that conceal the deeper unifying patterns of our existence can open in a moment. If no one listens, they quietly close and no one ever knows they were there. When someone listens, the veils open and the ancient mysteries of living are revealed.

I would love to call The Irish Vision Quest the ‘Listening until Listening Is Fulfilled’ Quest or the ‘Listening Until What Is to Be Heard Is Heard’ Quest. Yet, even the way we string words together deflects our ability to comprehend the realm of ‘listening’.

In essence, without ‘listening’, we cannot see. The same image of someone crying could be a loss or a victory…a broken heart or a divine inspiration.

‘Listening’ often occurs beyond words…where the cells and the soul meet.

The art of ‘listening’ is imperative during our present transitional times. The imagery of life is changing, and confusion comes with that change. However ‘listening until we can hear’ whether, in words, sounds, or silences, is fundamental to the magic of our existence. How else can we know the direction of our lives? How else can we know what we are ‘looking’ for?

That is why the quests continue to be provided. Whether it is personal or universal, the seamless fabric of our earth is revealing fundamental connections that fulfilled human life so very long ago. We are being asked to ‘listen’, so we can recognize what there is for us to ‘see’.