Humming of the Skellig Michael

Years before it was used as a filming location for the Star Wars saga, my husband, Roger James, and I braved the tumultuous seas off the rugged coast of County Kerry, Ireland, to visit the 6th-century monastic retreat on the island of Skellig Michael.

After climbing the majestic and daunting stone staircase to where the monks lived, I was drawn to sit inside one of the monks' stone beehive huts. Perched on the hard, cold sleeping bench, I shivered, trying to imagine spending a night there. Then something shifted.

When the sun lit a triangle on the stone floor, the roar of the ocean, the wind buffeting the ancient island, and the screeching of seabirds receded into the background. Another sensation moved into the foreground—a vibration within the hut itself. 

The space felt both familiar and distant, as though I were peering through the wrong end of a telescope. I did not want to leave.

A deep peace filled my heart, and then I heard the name Fr. Aloysius. 

Fantasy, intuition, or an overactive imagination? I still don't know. Even now, years later, I sometimes feel the same humming bliss that filled that stone hut.

(The photos capture the stone staircase and me sitting on the steps outside the hut.)

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The Universe's Splendor Hums within Us

In conversation with Maria Popova of The Marginalian, naturalist, poet, and author Diane Ackerman reflected:

"Once, I thought the universe's greatest gift was scale — those vaulting immensities of gas and dust, planets flaring like thoughts inside a skull of stars. But time, that sly

astronomer, has shown me something subtler: how much of the same splendor hums

within us and all of nature. The pulse of a leaf opening to sun, the quiet veer of a child's attention, my own heartbeat a small percussion in ancient starlight — all are galaxies folded inward, universes in miniature."

Looking back, I now see that day on Skellig Michael was one of several transcendent experiences of what Alan and I call the Noetic Field.

What I felt then — and still feel, now and again — was the splendor of the universe humming. When I pause long enough (always the challenge) to listen for that hum again, my perspective widens. I can hold the present moment —joyful, painful, or neutral — within a larger field of meaning. And often, insight arises about what, if anything, I need to do or say.

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Experiencing the Noetic

In Space Is Not Empty, Alan Briskin and I describe the noetic field as:  

“a foundational yet ineffable space, infused by a self-organizing intelligence found in nature and the cosmos . . . the noetic encompasses feelings of immensity, spaciousness, deeper truths, and interconnectedness." 

Such experiences transcend boundaries of time and space. The moment on Skellig Michael carried a wordless sense of immensity—and of connection across generations past and future. 

Where have you experienced an ineffable space? 

How have those moments shaped you—as a leader, consultant, coach, or family member? 

How might revisiting them help you make wise choices in our tumultuous world?

Alan Briskin and I wrote Space Is Not Empty: How Hidden Fields Are Shaping Your Life and Our World to help us access the Noetic Field—to feel the splendor of the universe as it enfolds us, and is enfolded within us.

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