The Alchemy of Intuition Ireland (Authors Only)

Day 1 - Opening Circle

Beloved Authors,

Even if you aren’t here in Ireland with us in body, you are deeply here in spirit. I carried you into our opening circle, wanting you to feel the pulse of what we experienced together. We began by breathing ourselves into presence — one inhale to arrive, one exhale to release. Intentions filled the space as each person shared the moment they knew it was a yes for this book. It was beautiful to watch our individual stories begin to weave into one tapestry.

I shared my own story of stepping into the ancient stones of Beltany Stone Circle (history at the end) back in March when Becky and I came to map out our voyage. The path felt like a portal: trees curving into a tunnel, shadows and light shifting like thresholds. When I entered the stones, a song rose out of me — not planned, but given. I sang to the land, to the ancestors, to all of you. I felt them — unseen beings — singing alongside me. Later, the land placed a crow feather in my path — a blessing, a sign, a confirmation of the Medicine I carry. (See video below.)

From there, I invited the circle into a guided meditation of their own journey to Beltany. One by one, eyes closed, each author walked the path in vision and received a gift from the ancestors — something to hold in the heart as we step into this shared work. This was our beginning.

Before moving forward, I offered a little wisdom from the rooks — black-feathered corvids, cousins to the crow, who live in great communities here in Ireland. Rooks remind us that harmony is not sameness; it is moving together while honoring differences. As they thrive in connection, so do we — weaving our unique voices into a shared song. This is the essence of our circle, the essence of this book: a rookery of storytellers rising together.

Now we turn toward the Death stage of alchemy — the sacred dissolution, the letting go that makes way for transformation. Soon, we travel to Deerstone in the Wicklow Mountains and to Glendalough, where the veil thins and endings meet beginnings. Even across oceans, you are part of this story. The land knows your name. The ancestors know your name. You are woven into the magic unfolding here in Ireland.

With love and reverence,

Tiffany 

Guided Meditation at Beltany Stone Circle

Close your eyes. Take a deep breath in…and let it out slowly. Feel your body soften into the earth beneath you.

With each breath, imagine becoming lighter, ready to step into another time, another place. See yourself at the foot of a winding path. The air is cool, alive with possibility. Before you rise the trees — tall, ancient — their branches arching overhead like a cathedral.

As you walk, the trees lean closer, shaping a tunnel of shadow and light. It feels like stepping into the unknown — the beginning of a story, the opening scene of a mystery. Breathe into that. You are safe. You are guided. You are meant to be here.

Step by step, the path carries you upward. The earth is soft beneath your feet. Wind stirs the leaves with whispers that might be words. Perhaps you hear the wings of a rook in the distance. You are not alone. The ancestors walk with you.

Then…the trees part. You emerge into a clearing, and the stones of Beltany rise from the earth — tall, weathered, and powerful — guardians of time and memory, pulsing with an ancient presence.

Slowly, you walk toward the center. Notice how the stones seem to watch you, as if recognizing you. In the middle, turn in a slow circle. Spin once, twice — opening the senses and letting energy swirl around you. Feel the circle gather you in, wrap you in protection and belonging.

Begin to walk the circumference. One by one, acknowledge the stones — keepers of wisdom, witnesses to countless ceremonies and lives. Feel your footsteps join the story; your breath joins the breath of all who came before.

When you are ready, begin one final round. With each step, feel the ancestors beside you — gentle yet strong. Something at your feet glimmers, shines, or simply calls to you. Bend down and pick it up.

A gift — left just for you by those who love you beyond time. Perhaps it’s an object, a symbol, a word, or a felt energy. You know it belongs to you. Hold it to your heart. Feel its meaning settle into your being. This is yours to carry forward — a reminder that you are never alone, always guided, always remembered.

Return to the center with your gift. Let its energy ripple through your body, filling you with strength, love, and a sense of belonging. Feel the blessing of the land, ancestors, elements, and stones that surround you. Take a deep breath. Bow in gratitude to the circle and begin to return to this room. Wiggle your fingers and toes, welcome awareness back, and when you are ready, open your eyes, carrying your gift into our circle tonight.

A Little History of Beltany Stone Circle

Beltany Stone Circle rests on Tops Hill outside Raphoe, County Donegal. It is one of Ireland’s largest and most significant stone circles, dating to around 1400–800 BCE (late Bronze Age). The circle once held over 80 stones (about 65 remain), each standing like ancient sentinels.

“Beltany” comes from Beltane, the Celtic fire festival marking summer’s beginning and honoring fertility, renewal, and the turning of the seasonal wheel. Many believe the site was used for rituals aligned with the sun — especially at Beltane, when the rising light illuminates the stones in a particular alignment. The circle likely hosted ceremonies honoring ancestors, rites of passage, and connection with cycles of life, death, and rebirth.

Nearby burial cairns and artifacts suggest Beltany was both a sacred gathering place and a threshold between worlds. Local lore holds the stones are alive with memory — guardians of time and wisdom, keeping record of ceremonies across millennia. To stand within Beltany is to stand inside a living story that still whispers to those willing to listen.

Day 2 — Death Teaching & Ceremony at Glendalough

We left Dublin for the Wicklow Mountains and arrived in sacred Glendalough — “the valley of the two lakes.” Founded by St. Kevin in the 6th century, it once housed a great monastic city renowned for its solitude, prayer, and initiation. Today, its ruins are living symbols of impermanence — even sacred structures fall, and yet their spirit remains. Between the Upper and Lower Lakes, thresholds open: endings meet beginnings; death is a doorway.

Death Teaching

In the circle, we explored the universal truth: everything dies — people, stories, seasons, identities. We spoke of the Tarot’s Death card: skeleton, horse, rising sun — reminders that endings carry seeds of beginnings. Death is not destruction for the sake of suffering; it is the sacred breaking down of what no longer serves, so what is truer can live.

Walking the Ruins

In silence, we moved through monastic stones, each person holding the question: “What is ready to die in me so I can step into a new life?” The cemetery and the hush spoke in their own way, guiding us deeper into the threshold between what has been and what is becoming.

The Crow’s Sacrifice — Ceremony at the Upper Lake

My initiation into Death began months earlier. On the road to Loughcrew in March, a crow hopped into the lane; the car ahead struck her. I gasped and shuddered. Becky pulled over, lifted the crow from the road, and we laid her beside a tree, circled her with branches, wept, and honored her. In my bones I knew: this was a sacrifice, a messenger, a teacher of alchemy. Through tears, I whispered, “I died back there.” It wasn’t only about the crow; it was about what needed to die within me so something new could live.

Carrying that medicine, we created a nest and nature altar at the Upper Lake around one of my broken crow statues — a mirror and symbol of death and transformation. One by one, each person pulled a card and named what they were “dying to”: old stories, patterns, and identities dissolving so something new could rise.

Fire Ceremony

That evening, we gathered around the fire — one of the oldest portals of transformation. We wrote a story, pattern, or part of ourselves to release on small wooden sticks and fed them to the flames. We sang “Sacred Fire,” offering grief, fear, and old identities to be transmuted. Fire consumes, and it purifies. This is the work of death and rebirth.

Community & Celebration

After the ceremony, we feasted on a fantastic Mexican meal prepared by Chef Isis and surprised Ruthie with a birthday celebration (she said it was her best yet). We ended the night with live music in the barn — classic rock and Irish songs from an incredible musician who joked he needed more American girls in his life — “you’re fun!”

We danced, we laughed, and joy overflowed. This is the alchemy of death: letting go, grieving, then remembering that life is a celebration. Together we flow — through endings, beginnings, through it all.

A Ritual for You at Home

1. Light a candle or sit by a fire.

2. Ask: “What is ready to die in me so I can step into a new life?”

3. Write the story/pattern/part to release on a slip of paper.

4. Burn it safely (or bury it).

5. Whisper: “What I release becomes medicine for my path.”Place a hand on your heart and breathe deeply. Know your release ripples into our circle here in Ireland; the land and ancestors hold you, too.

   
   

With love and reverence, Tiffany

The Crow’s Sacrifice & The Death Before Rebirth (March 2025)

Becky and I found the sweetest tiny Airbnb — a needed pause from hotel-hopping. I woke slowly, made a nourishing breakfast, sipped tea, and watched the countryside stretch endlessly — damn, I’m living a dream. Everything felt aligned; I was here, present, breathing.

By midday, Becky and I set off for Loughcrew, where ancient burial cairns and initiation sites are located. Alchemy doesn’t move in order; it is wild, chaotic, and shakes you before offering light. The first stage is death — Jung’s nigredo, the dark night where everything falls apart before rebirth. As I shared with Becky about my hidden childhood wounds, the universe invited me to understand death differently.

A crow hopped onto the road.I saw her. I held my breath. Time slowed. The car in front hit her. “No, no, no…”

Becky pulled over safely and ran to the crow. Feathers drifted like ghosts in the wind. I sobbed in the passenger seat; in my bones, I knew it was no accident. Something was being taken; something within me was dying with her. Becky cradled the delicate body and asked, “Do you want to see her?” I nodded. We laid her by a tree, circled her with branches, and honored her. I felt it — a sacrifice, a messenger, a teacher. We drove in silence, grief thick as fog. When Becky whispered, “What are you feeling?” I said, “I died back there.” This wasn’t just about the crow; it was about what needed to die in me.

Day 3 — Breath, Death & Renewal

We remained at Deerstone, our eco-lodge, for a soul-stirring writing workshop with Laura Di Franco. She guided powerful prompts to bring our stories to life.

Writing Prompts

Instead of “she was nervous,” show us nervous — body sensations, gestures, atmosphere.

Telling: She was nervous.

Showing: Her palms were slick; she kept wiping them on her jeans. The room felt too hot, the clock too loud, each tick a drumbeat in her chest.

Show transformation through scene, senses, or dialogue.

Telling: That day changed me forever.

Showing: I stood at the ocean’s edge, shoes in my hand, waves swallowing my footprints faster than I could make them. For the first time, I didn’t feel small — I felt infinite.

Choose an emotion (joy, grief, awe). Describe a memory only through senses: smell, taste, sound, touch, sight.

The stale smell of lilies clung to my hair.

Cold hands brushed mine as I reached for the coffin.

Salt burned my lips.

Reveal backstory through dialogue — let characters speak.

“You always leave the light on,” she said, flicking the switch.

“I had to,” he answered, eyes on the floor. “When I was a kid, the dark wasn’t safe.”

She paused; the silence said more than either of them could.

Task: Set a timer for 5–10 minutes. Write without stopping or censoring. Let it flow. Then read it back — surprises appear when you release control.

Later, we entered a powerful Shamanic Breathwork journey through the Death stage. Raw, deep, transformative. We grounded with warm Irish shepherd’s pie after walking the threshold. The evening closed with a Fire Ceremony, introducing purification and preparing for tomorrow’s pilgrimage to Newgrange and the River Boyne — a cleansing, grieving, and releasing process through water and sweat.

Breathwork Ritual for Letting Go

• Sit comfortably; one hand on heart, one on belly.

• Take three deep breaths (in nose, out mouth with a gentle sigh).

The Practice:

1. Find a steady rhythm: in through the nose, out through the mouth.

2. With each inhale, draw in new life force — the seed of what’s being born.

3. With each exhale, release what is ready to die — old stories, patterns, grief, fear.

4. Continue 5–10 minutes. Breathe out thoughts; allow emotions to move.

Intention: Place both hands over your heart and whisper: “I let go of what no longer serves. I am open to the rebirth of what is true for me.”

Remember: trust the process. Breath, water, fire, words — each release makes space for what waits to be born. Let writing flow. Let breath carry you. Let your heart stay open to the mystery.

With love and gratitude, Dr. T

Day 4 — Newgrange, Knowth & the River Boann

We began with a nourishing breakfast by Chef Isis and set out for Newgrange, Knowth, and the River Boann.

At Knowth, we entered passage tombs built over 5,000 years ago — pre-dating the Egyptian pyramids and Stonehenge — layered with more than 200 carved stones (the largest collection of megalithic art in Europe). Spirals, zigzags, and concentric circles still speak, even as meaning remains mysterious. Some scholars believe the carvings emerged from altered states — such as ceremony, trance, or the use of plant medicine — where visionaries translated their visions into stone. Knowth holds grief and memory: every burial also seeds renewal.

At Newgrange, aligned to the Winter Solstice sunrise, the darkest day is pierced by light flooding the tomb. The museum reminds: “There is always rebirth, and in the darkest of places there is light.” Perfect reflection of our own path through death into purification — hope endures, even in shadow.

We then honored the River Boann. In myth, Boann — rebel goddess — approached the forbidden Well of Wisdom; when its waters surged, they swept her away. Though she lost her life, she became immortal as the living river that still flows. Boann embodies sacrifice, transformation, and the wild courage to follow wisdom’s call.

We cleansed in her waters, washing away what no longer serves, and carried purification into the sauna: sweating, grieving, decomposing, releasing. Rain mirrored our process — nature weeping and cleansing with us.

I visited a great rookery, watching rooks whirl and caw — wise black birds, kin to crow and raven — messengers adding their voices to the day’s teachings. (Videos below.)

By evening, we reached Killeen Castle for a three-night stay. After dinner, most went straight to rest, bodies tender from the hunger and thirst that often follow deep release. A powerful day of purification — water, fire, rain, and myth.

For You at Home — Water Ritual for Release

1. Fill a bowl, cup, or bath.

2. Hold hands above it and breathe, saying: “Like Boann, I release what no longer serves me. May the waters carry it away. I am open to wisdom, light, and rebirth.”

3. Wash face or arms, imagining heaviness carried downstream.

4. Pour water outside or down the drain with gratitude, returning it to earth.

As Day 4 closes, the land itself teaches: the visionary carvings of Knowth, the solstice light at Newgrange, the fierce sacrifice of Boann — all remind us death isn’t the end. There is release, purification, and rebirth. Rain on castle walls, rooks calling from trees — we rest knowing what is washed away makes room for what becomes. Tomorrow we rise lighter, clearer, ready for the next turn of alchemy.

Rook Medicine

Rooks, of the crow family, live in large, noisy rookeries. Their wisdom carries themes of community, communication, and collective power. In Celtic and European folklore, they guard sacred places; their calls are said to be the voices of ancestors. Encountering a rook reminds us we are never alone — we move with human kin and unseen ones at our side. Rook medicine is belonging, guidance, and the mysterious chorus that carries us through transitions.

Day 5 — Killeen Castle: Craft, Cacao & Ecstatic Dance

Dear Authors,

Today flowed in its own timing — nothing on schedule, everything in surrender. A lesson: slow down, soften, trust the unfolding. 😌

Laura Di Franco guided another potent workshop to shape our stories. She offered a prompt:

“Yesterday I released and purified what? Go!”

Five minutes. Pen moving. No editing. Just truth.

Then we explored the hook — those opening lines that seize the heart. The best hooks disturb, surprise, or unsettle, making the reader lean in.

• Instead of “I was scared”: My hands trembled as I fumbled for the keys, the air too thick to swallow.

• Instead of “I felt joy”: Laughter burst out of me before I could stop it, rolling through my ribs like thunder.

  
  

Laura helped shape chapter titles (she’s a badass at titles — reach out if you’re stuck!).

Another prompt: “The moment I almost gave up, but didn’t…”

After a catnap and a few photos, we dropped into a ceremony — a cacao ritual followed by ecstatic dance. We worked with Peruvian cacao; I blessed the space with a Peruvian shaker, incense water, my poncho, and music from the Andes. As we stirred cacao, we whispered into the warmth: “I release…” naming what no longer served. We sang prayers into the drink, then sipped its rich scent while listening to a song sung for the goddess for thousands of years.

And then we rose. We danced. One by one, bodies swayed, spun, soared — wild, free — feet offering release to earth, arms calling in joy and expansion. Luminous souls moving with land, ancestors, and inner goddess, weaving alchemy into each step.

At-Home Ritual: Cacao/Tea + Dance

If you don’t have ceremonial cacao, use tea, coffee, or warm water. Intention is everything.

1. Prepare Your Cup — Boil water slowly, with presence. As you stir, whisper: “I release…”

2. Bless the Drink — Hold the cup, breathe, imagine prayers infusing the liquid. Hum or sing if you wish.

3. Sip with Intention — Slow sips. Taste fully. Inhale steam. Imagine warmth carrying release out and filling with light.

4. Dance — Put on a heart-stirring song. Start gently, grow freer. Feet offer the old to earth; arms call in joy. Let breath be the drum; let heart lead.

5. Close — Place your hands over your heart and thank yourself and the divine within.

We closed with a decadent three-course dinner, candlelight flickering, glasses clinking, laughter rising. Stories flowed like water, weaving us closer with every bite and smile. Around that table, we weren’t just writers — we were a rookery forming, a circle of souls sharing nourishment, joy, and community. The perfect end to a day of release and renewal.

And so we continue to cleanse and purify our vessels, releasing what no longer serves, making space for stories, healing, and wisdom ready to come through.

With love from Ireland, Tiffany 

Oracle Deck: SHAMAN HEART by Stephanie Urbina Jones

Killeen Castle is over 800 years old!

Day 6 — Fairy Fields

We rode to Pat Noone’s Fairy Fields — rolling green pastures, curious animals, land humming with ancient stories. Pat shared information about the fairies and sacred stones that have been resting there for over 5,000 years. Each of us stepped into the fairy portal, honoring the unseen ones. Back in March, I’d glimpsed a past life here; this time, the breeze carried a gentle thank you: thank you for helping others believe in magic again.

Pat welcomed us to picnic on his land. We closed the day with a candle ceremony, cleansing head, heart, and soul — with a bit of help from our fairy friends. On the bus home, clarity sparked: purification is working; perspectives are opening. Alchemy is wild like that — when you let go and follow the flow, magic shows up every time.

Fairy Magic & Candle Cleansing

In Ireland, the fairies (the Aos Sí) are said to live in mounds, hills, and sacred stones. For thousands of years, people have honored them as guardians of the earth, keepers of magic, and messengers between worlds. Folklore warns: don’t disrespect fairy trees or stones, or misfortune may follow. Honor them, and blessings, healing, and protection come.

Candle Cleansing Ritual (At Home)

1. Light a simple candle.

2. Close eyes; take three deep breaths; imagine mossy stones, wildflowers, a gentle breeze.

3. Hold the candle and whisper: “I call upon the spirit of the fair folk, guardians of earth and magic. Thank you for guiding and protecting me.”

4. Pass hands slowly over the flame (safely) — over head, heart, belly — clearing anything heavy or stagnant.

5. Hands over heart: “With head, heart, and soul cleansed, I walk forward in magic and trust.”

6. Blow out the candle, knowing intention carries into the unseen.

The fairies are more than folklore; they are symbols of the unseen and of the magic still alive in the land and within us. When we honor them, we honor the parts of ourselves that long to believe, to wonder, and to stay connected to the invisible threads of spirit. May your head be clear, your heart open, and your soul renewed as you carry this magic forward.

With gratitude and wonder, Dr. T 

Days 7 & 8 — Solar Eclipse & Fall Equinox

A wild, beautiful portal: New Moon, Solar Eclipse, and Fall Equinox all at once. Potent energy!

We gathered for a wonderful workshop with Laura on crafting hooks and technique: sometimes a hook appears mid-draft when a sentence lands with power; a hook can begin with a question or startling statistic.

• “It just took one touch.”

• “Every 11 minutes, someone dies from suicide.”

For medicine sections, remember: these aren’t stories, but application and teaching — step-by-step guidance. Most importantly, you don’t need to preface; tell the story. Dive right in. For dialogue and inner voice: inner thoughts or dreams often in italics; spoken conversations in “quotation marks.”

Writing Prompts from Laura

1. Who are you today as a result of your deepest wound? (5 minutes, nonstop)

2. What’s one essential truth about intuition? (7 minutes)

We said goodbye to Killeen and headed to Rockfield House — a place reminiscent of Downton Abbey. On the way, we visited the hauntingly beautiful ruins of Bective Abbey. By evening, we were welcomed by our new chef, Amor, who blessed us with vibrant, plant-based meals. (As much as I love meat, I don’t mind — her desserts are heavenly!)

We closed the night in ceremony for the Fall Equinox and Virgo New Moon Solar Eclipse — completing purification and stepping into the rise of consciousness — then tucked in early for a 4 a.m. wakeup.

At dawn, we climbed Loughcrew. On the hill, we joined a powerful pagan Equinox ceremony, welcoming the sun as it illuminated ancient cairns. The view, the energy, the beauty — breathtaking. Cold winds pushed us back to the bus (where breakfast awaited) and we returned to Rockfield.

Later, Becky’s friend Daryl and his partner offered tea and a breathwork session. The tea — herbs handpicked from Ireland’s sacred sites — invited us into meditation with the plants. It reminded me to incorporate teas, infusions, and plant medicine into my daily life. Daryl then led a breathwork session — a quiet journey inward that opened a deeper, more profound well of peace and love.

We finished lunch, and now I rest — pen in hand, heart full — writing to you.

With love and magic, Tiffany

Days 9 & 10 — Sovereignty & Celebration

These last two days have been extraordinary. We journeyed to the Cliffs of Moher — a rare blessing of sunshine and clear skies, a gift of warmth and light. After a long day of awe and laughter, we ended the evening in a cozy pub and rested.

Today we rose to meet the Hill of Tara — ancient seat of the High Kings, home of the Stone of Destiny. Here we held a ceremony where each person stepped forward to claim sovereignty — the final stage of alchemy, the reddening, the transformation. Voices rose in truth as we spoke our new becoming into the air.

Joy unfolded as we dressed in costume and animated our truths through poetry, song, dance, and storytelling. The circle grew tender as we poured love into each person, blessing them with heartfelt words. We ended with a beautiful dinner, a gift exchange, and a sweet celebration of Marta’s birthday. My heart overflows at the transformation I’ve witnessed — the alchemy of this group is beyond words.

As we prepare to return home, a new chapter begins — literally and symbolically. Ireland has given so much; we now carry that magic into our writing.

✨ Ritual for You

• Find a stone that calls to you. Hold it as if it were your Stone of Destiny.

• Speak one truth you are claiming: “I step into my sovereignty by…”

• Place the stone somewhere visible as a reminder of your new becoming. Each time you see or touch it, let it anchor you back to the power you claimed.

What truth are you ready to anchor into your life?

Final Blessing & Summary

From the breath of our opening circle at Beltany to the sovereignty claimed at Tara, this pilgrimage moved through every stage of alchemy: death, purification, and rebirth. We released old stories by firelight, were cleansed by waters of Boann and Irish rain, listened for the hush of ruins and the calls of rooks, and danced our prayers into the earth. Along the way, writing became a path of medicine — hooks, prompts, and pages that turned grief into wisdom and memory into light.

Ireland held us like an old song: stone and wind, myth and prayer, fairies and ancestors. We return changed — clearer, braver, more true — carrying a rookery of voices that will rise together on the page. May what we released become the soil for what we’re here to create. May the gift you received at the stones guide your next word, next breath, next becoming.