Where I grew up, at the end of our block was woods. If you walked through them, about a mile or maybe a little more, you'd get to the beach. There was a clearing partway there. That was my first thin place. Not water, but proximity to it. The promise of it.
How lucky you are, and I once was, to live where thin places are plentiful.
I love the description a ‘thin place.’ It is good to recall those magical moments when a landscape or place transports you into another private dimension. I have had a few in my life, mostly in the Highlands or Scotland.
I had one on the island of Iona. Rising up a small incline on a sunny day, cresting the rise suddenly I was greeted by a view of the sea which was deepest blue, shimmering, and astonishing, unexpected in its other worldly beauty.
What a beautiful memory, especially with the added appreciation you've found for it over time. I'm impressed with the way you took a fresh prompt and brought it around to your water-theme. :-)
There have been numerous thin places in my life—most often camping trips in the high mountains or on big water. But moving to Whidbey Island many decades ago opened the door to a number of "thin" places and people who recognize and share such a phenomenon. Thank you for this, John. Ann
The “Thin Places” for me are the tall crowns of the white pines swaying and ringing in the breeze, the deep blue spring sky framing the entrance to the eternal. I stand in stillness and quiet feeling myself carried effortlessly into the heights above. This is the gathering of pines that surrounds my wife’s burial cairn in the forest of our home. In those moments , I become these upper most branches stretching, reaching…enraptured. And the wind that enfolds and caresses my arms is my wife at play, my wife in a fury of reckless love.
Thank you, John. I also held John O’Donohue close to me during those first years. Still do.
It was St Columba’s abbey on Iona that affected me most. I have never visited a place with such an overwhelming sense of tranquility. It is truly spiritual whatever your religion may be.
I love happening upon those moments that we don't have language for, that inexplicably move us by something powerful--and then how beautiful to find the language from O'Donahue and knowing exactly the moment that you have experienced it. And how it shapes our lives in different ways, both small and large, with your Island-dwelling heart not letting you live without the sea around you.
And I do think there is something powerful about those islands. I had a similar experience on Iona, unexpectedly, because I had gone to see the place of Colum Cille as a grad student living in Scotland and researching early medieval Celtic history, and the viewed the rather hippy community there at the time with lofty, snobby judgement. The place had something more to tell me and I will never forget the beauty of that place. 💜
I love islands - there is something magical about them. I've lived on a couple, one east coast US, one west coast. I always thought I would live on one permanently but hasn't worked out that way.
Where I grew up, at the end of our block was woods. If you walked through them, about a mile or maybe a little more, you'd get to the beach. There was a clearing partway there. That was my first thin place. Not water, but proximity to it. The promise of it.
How lucky you are, and I once was, to live where thin places are plentiful.
I remember that interview with O'Donahue! I'd forgotten about it. I should go listen again.
What a lovely encounter. Thank you for sharing this.
Great post, John.
For me, the transcendent place was a monastery in the mountains. Your post helped me recall what happened. That event eventually led me to Whidbey.
John
I love the description a ‘thin place.’ It is good to recall those magical moments when a landscape or place transports you into another private dimension. I have had a few in my life, mostly in the Highlands or Scotland.
I had one on the island of Iona. Rising up a small incline on a sunny day, cresting the rise suddenly I was greeted by a view of the sea which was deepest blue, shimmering, and astonishing, unexpected in its other worldly beauty.
What a beautiful memory, especially with the added appreciation you've found for it over time. I'm impressed with the way you took a fresh prompt and brought it around to your water-theme. :-)
There have been numerous thin places in my life—most often camping trips in the high mountains or on big water. But moving to Whidbey Island many decades ago opened the door to a number of "thin" places and people who recognize and share such a phenomenon. Thank you for this, John. Ann
The “Thin Places” for me are the tall crowns of the white pines swaying and ringing in the breeze, the deep blue spring sky framing the entrance to the eternal. I stand in stillness and quiet feeling myself carried effortlessly into the heights above. This is the gathering of pines that surrounds my wife’s burial cairn in the forest of our home. In those moments , I become these upper most branches stretching, reaching…enraptured. And the wind that enfolds and caresses my arms is my wife at play, my wife in a fury of reckless love.
Thank you, John. I also held John O’Donohue close to me during those first years. Still do.
Scotland’s Isle of Skye is my thin place.
Your voice is so soothing, haha! Great content can’t wait to go through it all
What a lovely story, and I’m so glad you found the language for your “thin place” - I too love that interview with John Odonohue. 💗
My first time to encounter the term "Thin Places". I have to check it out.
Also, I was amazed with the names in this post - I cannot pronounce a lot of them.
I've been to Inishmor and Skellig Michael, and those isles are affecting. Thank you for sharing your story!
It was St Columba’s abbey on Iona that affected me most. I have never visited a place with such an overwhelming sense of tranquility. It is truly spiritual whatever your religion may be.
I love happening upon those moments that we don't have language for, that inexplicably move us by something powerful--and then how beautiful to find the language from O'Donahue and knowing exactly the moment that you have experienced it. And how it shapes our lives in different ways, both small and large, with your Island-dwelling heart not letting you live without the sea around you.
And I do think there is something powerful about those islands. I had a similar experience on Iona, unexpectedly, because I had gone to see the place of Colum Cille as a grad student living in Scotland and researching early medieval Celtic history, and the viewed the rather hippy community there at the time with lofty, snobby judgement. The place had something more to tell me and I will never forget the beauty of that place. 💜
I love islands - there is something magical about them. I've lived on a couple, one east coast US, one west coast. I always thought I would live on one permanently but hasn't worked out that way.