Meeting Apu Carrauntoohil

We Came, We Saw, We Conquered!

I Felt the Call, I was Invited, I was Welcomed, We Connected!

Apu Carrauntoohil

Last weekend, I heeded my inner voice (my seed) guiding me and embarked on a journey to Kerry, to reconnect with my old friend Carrauntoohil, the tallest mountain in Ireland.  My previous attempt at reaching the peak in August 2020, had fallen short as I only made it to the foot of the Devil's Ladder.  Various circumstances, such as taking a detour through the Gap of Dunloe and experiencing discomfort from my new hiking boots, seemed to conspire against me. 

Perhaps it was fate or the mountain's spirit, suggesting that I needed to wait and return when the time was right.  Nonetheless, during that initial encounter, I acquired a sacred stone, (Andean term Khuya - an object filled with passion), to maintain a connection with the mountain, which I preserved through my Misha.

Often, when drawn to sacred places, I find myself unprepared to fully embrace their energy.  A similar occurrence took place with Skellig Michael, where it took me nine years before I could finally reach the island and make my pilgrimage. It appears that I must undergo an energetic preparation before being invited into these sacred spaces.  One of my teachers (Elizabeth) often says, “Always ask first - you wouldn’t go into a persons house uninvited”.

Approaching the foot of the Devil’s Ladder

As we ventured through the Glen at the start of our hike, gentle rain, affectionately sent by Mama Unu, kissed my skin.  Embracing the notion that this was our quintessential Irish weather, I welcomed the misty touch.  Soon after, the clouds parted, and Tayta Inti emerged, granting respite from the rain for the rest of the day.  I noticed that with every step, the clouds receded, revealing the magnificent beauty of the mountain as we approached her base.

There were moments where anxiety consumed me as we approached sections of the climb that had previously evoked fear.  One such place was the stepping stones crossing a rapidly flowing stream.  Even though the stream was shallow, the fast flowing waters were disorientating. I watched a fellow hiker struggle to get across the last steps in the same predicament.  I knew the best thing to do was to get rid of some of this Hucha (heavy energy) building in me.  As we neared the first cairn—a mound of stones (akin to the Apachetas in Peru)—I picked up a stone.  With intent, I imbued it with my three powers and infused it with my hucha, before carefully placing it upon the cairn.  To my relief, this ritual seemed to assist me.  I took a deep breath and probably let out a yell as I bounded  across the stepping stones.  I felt exhilarated crossing my first hurdle!

Climbing the Ladder

Interestingly, the part of the ascent that I had dreaded the most turned out to be the most enjoyable.  The Devil's Ladder, a steep ascent leading to the saddle, featured imposing rocks and boulders, amplified by the protuberant springs cascading from the recent rainfall.  Each step engaged my mind in figuring out the best placement for my hands and feet, evoking memories of my childhood when I eagerly climbed anything in sight.  I felt welcomed by Tayta Wayra’s wind blowing me gently into the rocks, it felt embracing and protective.   Sometimes the progress was smooth, while other times I had to exert myself to overcome huge boulders or lost my footing as the rocks gave way beneath me.  Nevertheless, I persisted.  I breathed.  I pulled myself up and pressed on.

Reaching the top of the saddle, we were rewarded with a magnificent view over the Macgillycuddy Reeks with astonishingly beautiful lakes set even higher in the valleys.  But there was more distance to go - the peak of Carrauntoohil was another 1km meander through zigzag rocky paths hidden in the mists.

Nearing the summit

I continued to gather stones and leave them on the cairns.  It became less about the intention of charging them with hucha, but more about gratitude for the beauty I was witnessing and the health of my body to physically get me there. Finally reaching the summit, we were among a few last stragglers who had persevered to this point.  The mists lifted to what felt like just above our heads, just enough to take in the incredible vistas.

This journey was not so much about conquering the mountain. This seems to be a curse of our western minds - to set goals, to achieve personal bests, which always seems to overpower or overcome something.  As a Paqo, my intention was not to oppress, but to connect. I had brought with me a Khuya from Apu Machu Picchu, a mountain I have a deep bond with.  I felt as if he was helping me on this journey and that he wanted to meet Carrauntoohil.  I took the stone from my pocket along with my original  stone from my trip n 2020, and placed them carefully on top of a cluster of embedded rocks looking south.  The two of them seemed pretty happy to be introduced to each other.

I asked my friend to do Karpay Ayni with me.  Karpay Ayni is an exchange of personal power.  I felt it was very fitting as today was coronation day, but we were having our own coronation of sorts in what I felt was a beautiful way.  I instructed my friend and we both drew the seqes from the power places we both had respectably connected with in our lives.  We drew up the power of Carrantoohil and infused it with our personal power delivering it by hand through each others crowns.  I could feel the energetic cords rush into and pour out of me over this worldwide web of light.  It was a truly potent experience - one in which I’ll treasure every time I look at the new khuya I collected right after the Karpay.

Our adventure wasn’t over yet.  On the way back down I lead us towards the grass, as I was tired of the firmness of the rocks under my feet.  We got lost, had to traverse a few marshes, turn back from some dangerous overhangs, but we eventually found the path back.  With a few wet feet, worn out muscles, and after nine and a half hours, we finally made it back to Cronin’s Yard.

The entire adventure served as a metaphor for this life.  It reminded me that life is a landscape of valleys, peaks, troughs, marshes, and rivers - sometimes to wade through, sometimes to bound through.  There will always be moments of triumph, moments of struggle.  I continue moving forward, embracing the challenges that shape my journey, knowing that each hardship and each joy both inform and transform me.  When exhaustion threatened to overwhelm, I endured and enjoyed each moment, taking it all in - connecting, honouring and being so grateful for all of life’s experiences.

Thank you Carrauntoohil for this incredible encounter … until we meet again.

You can see a short video of this journey on my Instagram here