David Whyte, a man of invitation
To be in the presence of David Whyte, poet and philosopher, is to allow yourself to be open to an invitation; many invitations, in fact. An invitation to leave behind all preconceived ideas and expectations, an invitation to revisit the deep well of inner wisdom and knowing that resides within each of us, to be awakened and challenged, and to find replenishment and a way forward from a grounded, and expanded place.
These, and many more invitations were extended to 30 people from across the globe who gathered in May for the first of David’s 2022 walking tours. We came from Australia, Canada, the United States, England, and Ireland and we homed ourselves for a week in traditional thatched-roofed cottages along the waterfront, in the small seaside town of Ballyvaughan, in County Clare, on the west coast of Ireland.
Each morning, a small group would brave the cold temperatures of Galway Bay to begin the day refreshed and invigorated, a taste of the richness that was to come. Then we gathered in one of the small cottages, fireplace aglow, ready to delve into the deep waters of poetry and prose, philosophy and music, storytelling, and invitation.
We were blessed in the team that David gathered around him, who not only ensured we had everything we needed each day, but who, in themselves, were very talented and generous men—Mícheál Ó Súilleabháin, an Irish musician, singer and poet; Ian King, a singer and songwriter from the north of England, who has called Tuscany home for many years; Bodi Hallett of Sattva Photo, whose keen and sensitive eye captured our movements and pondering each day; and Thomas, a gentle and efficient soul who ensured we were looked after from email registration to plane departure.
Each morning, and at different moments throughout the week we gathered and were stilled by the beating drum of the bodhrán (a frame drum used in Irish music), and the haunting and harmonising voices of Mícheál and Ian. According to Mícheál, his is not a traditional drum, but it has been in the family for years. He sings songs of lamentation and love—Irish sean nō—old style singing that has been adapted in his own way. The sounds echoed throughout the hushed room and filled our souls and touched our hearts.
Then, David set the scene with poetry and prose, stories, and invitations. In opening, we were invited to ponder the poetry of Seamus Heaney, and to consider what might happen if we ‘cracked open our hearts a little, and let the wind blow it wide open, like a car door being caught and blown open in a fierce wind’. We were invited to ‘be open to the elements, the place where we meet, the conversations we have’ and to allow the ‘energy of this place to get in and do its work’. We are indeed at work here.
We hear lines from David’s own poetry, and stories of poets William Yates, Rainer Maria Rilke, and John O’Donohue, an Irish poet and philosopher and former Catholic priest, who grew up in the same area where we have gathered. John tragically died, at 52. Too young. He and David were good friends and companions, and his spirit and influence on David, and the places we met and wandered through, were deeply felt.
Daily, we were invited to enter into a conversation with the ancient landscape, the rolling green hills lined with old, stoned walls, the wild Atlantic Ocean to our west, and the lime-stone clad mountains. The village of Ballyvaughan is located within the rugged, limestone-clad area called The Burren. The towering mountains formed a stark contrast to the wild Atlantic, and the blowing wings could unsteady you on the higher ridges. Each afternoon, following our time in the cottage with its generous sharing of poetry, storytelling, music and song, and those many invitations, we hiked to sacred sites in the surrounding areas.
We visited Coleman’s Bed and Patrick’s Well (Tobar phadraig) in the Burren, two significant sites for David, who explained his many years of pilgrimage to these places. He recited lines from his poems, and narrated the stories that surrounded their formation. ‘Ancient conversation between mountains and sea is being held in the body of the culture and in individual bodies,’ says David. ‘Something is calling you in a very ancient way.’
During each afternoon hike, we breathe in the air and spirit of the place, heeding the invitation to slow down, to enter into the conversation with the landscape around us and which carries us in this time. We are invited to reach down, within, and to drink from our own deep well.
‘How long has it been since you’ve drunk from the deep well within?’
We were blessed to share in the company of many of David’s friends who visited in order to bestow their gifts, knowledge, and wisdom upon us. They included, Henry, a Zen Master, who gently added his insights and wisdom throughout the week; Nóirín ní Riain, Mícheál’s mother, who is a theologian, poet and singer, and who enthralled us with her native Irish tongue, singing and stories. We had the great privilege of spending a day hiking through the winterage of Burren farmer Patrick McCormack, a deeply spiritual and poetic man and long-time friend of David, whose deep love for the land, and the ancient ones permeated deeply within him, and then, all of us. And finally, we were absolutely delighted to have our own personal concert with two of Ireland’s best musicians, Blackie O’Connell on the uilleann pipes and Cyril O’Donoghue on the bouzouki.
2022 David Whyte Walking Tour group, Ballyvaughan, Ireland. Photo courtesy Bodi Hallett of Sattva Photo
Later in the week, we trekked along Black Head Loop deep in the Burren and visited a medieval monastery and monk’s fishing hut on the river in Cong, a small township in the rugged and mountainous region of Connemara. And ended the day with a meal in a beautiful hotel while being lulled by Irish singer and cellist Patrick Dexter. Were John O’Donohue alive to ask any of the participants, ‘when was the last time you had a really good conversation?’ a question he is famous for, the answer would be: ‘Today. This week!’ We are invited to be open, to not know and to be comfortable in the not knowing. Should we ‘fall forward’, we are invited to get up and keep going. One step in front of the other. There is much to ponder, and much to absorb. So much possibility and hope.
We commented daily, ‘it seriously couldn’t get any better!’, or ‘I’m having way too much fun’ and voiced regularly ‘how lucky’ we were to be in this beautiful, ancient place, among new friends who wanted to engage in the deeper conversations. We laughed, cried, hugged, danced, sang, drank, and ate. We were were challenged, and ultimately, nourished and enriched. Together, we collaborated, shared, and listened deeply in this space, encouraged to go forward, expanded and renewed.
For all of these things, and the many moments and places that weren’t mentioned, I’m deeply grateful. Thank you, David and team, and for all who were there, for the invitation to dig deep, to be bigger than I am, to dream, to hope, to pray, and to draw strength, inspiration and replenishment from the deep well that flows within me, and each of us. We were truly on sacred ground, there, and here, and in whatever place we find ourselves.
