It is often said of the Irish, that they life life to the fullest. They enjoy ever moment with a passion, savoring life itself, with an ecstasy that boggles the mind. Many a comment has been made on the Irishman’s drinking habits, and of the bawdiness that permeates their very existence. What if this is true? I don’t know for sure. I do know that I am one who enjoys life. Every breath that I take is one of life. Who can dare argue the extent of suffering the Irish have endured. Yet, they still welcome all and her challenges.
What then, is it like to be born of such a heritage? To have to live up to the image of the Irish that society has painted. We learn to live our lives for each moment. To take life to our bosom and love it as if it were our only child. To look at death not as an enemy but, as the continuing on of the spirit. Death is the beginning of life. The day when the soul goes off to Glocca Mora, where man and leprechauns play together among magical mushrooms and spreading green of heather.
Life is sweet, something to be savored for every moment. To be shared with all who will come. This is the philosophy I’ve been taught. Maybe someday all will share this idea of peace and love will flow as the River Shannon. Fear not to suffer life, for life will reward you for your struggles. Keep an open heart and mind to all that you encounter, for they may become a cherished friend. Fear not the throngs of death, for they are the final gateway to eternal happiness.
Onward to Glocca Mora!!