The Celtic Tree of Life… sort of!

Ever hugged a tree?

No?

Okay… Maybe you’ve thought about hugging a tree, or something that looked like a tree?

The ancient Celts – there are very few real ones left in Ireland -adored and believed fairies lived in trees, assigning them special powers.

I love trees myself, often strong and unwilling to move whatever goes against them,  rejuvenating themselves year after year.

Ireland was tree-paradise, but once the English set foot on our shores, and saw that Irish trees would make for better ships, their naval fleet happily sang chop-ahoy-chop-chop-them- oaks.  In short: aside from having to sacrifice land, language, music, traditions, and food, Ireland had to offer their sacred trees to the enemies of the day.

Now, all that aside, I love to think I have some Celtic blood in me, so I read about the Celtic Tree of Life, and loved it. One year, a friend of gave me a fantastic birthday present years: the Irish Tree of Life carved into a piece of trunk.

My love of trees has become a bit legendary since moving to Ireland in 2002, and it still provokes giggle-fests when I am reminded of that fact.

One very cold December night in 2003 in Oughterard by Lough Corrib, County Galway, after having been in the local pub with friends, singing along to Irish traditional music and feeling drunk of happiness (I don’t drink alcohol), I was yeah, no, the clown of the hour.

Upon leaving the pub, I started hugging trees and declaring my love for them. It was 2AM, freezing, misty, and kinda the ideal setting for a fairytale of sorts. Seeing me taking in some Irish culture, some of the Irish people in the gang said out loud that “they should never have allowed the Belgians into Ireland,” and that I was ready for the loony bin. I don’t need to be drunk on alcohol to feel happy as Larry, and I knew that their comments were meant in a nice, jokingly way.

One of them uttered that that crazy Belgian chick knew more about the Irish Celts than some of the Irish people there did, so that was not bad at all. I was on a high and hugging trees.

Yeah, baby!

Trees!

Love ’em!

The horses standing nearby were looking at me as if I had had too many happy pills. “Hugging trees, yeah baby, gimme more, gimme more!”

I was running from tree to tree shouting that I loved the ones with ivy twisted around the trunk. They were just magnificent and I just had to share the love! I shouted that I had never ever seen such a straight trunk on trees and that it was massive in height, so it had to be a special one eh?

One very wise man stepped forward, saying “Er… Billie, do you not have trees in Belgium? Or telephones? Just to compare? You are hugging a telephone utility pole right here!”

The crowd of proud Irish/Munster tribesmen started roaring laughter so hard the horses mockingly whinnied “hihihi.”

Thank god it was 2AM.

Dark.

Misty.

Nobody saw my red cheeks if I had any, but OK, I can take making a fool of myself, by god I’d do it every single day if I can make people laugh. Being laughed at by horses? Oh no, that I will never be able to live down properly.

To this day people are asking me how the telephone/utility poles are in Galway…

Shame… On… Me…

Have I hugged a tree again since that day? I have. When nobody was looking.

Hit me once. Shame on you.

Hit me twice, shame on me!

© Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.