Another Place
It’s hard to look at our world right now and not feel a sense of concern. Our social feeds are filled with misery. Wars are raging, innocent lives are lost, voices rising with anger, while others are silenced in fear. The rise of extremist ideologies, the demonising of difference, and the uncertainty of our shared future don’t just exist out there. They weigh down the body, our minds, our spirit. Even in the safety of our own homes, something inside us recognises that we’re not untouched. These constant streams of relentless despair erode the fabric of our wellness. But given the circumstances, it’s hardly surprising, it’s a sign of our humanity. When the world feels fractured, it can be hard to stay connected to a sense of meaning, safety, or hope, and the call of the Otherworld rings out.
In Irish mythology there’s a place where the veil between worlds grows thin, where time moves not in straight lines, but rather more in spirals. This is the Otherworld. It isn’t a single realm, more a tapestry of places and possibilities, found in story, spirit, and silence. You’ve probably heard of Tír na nÓg (Land of Youth), where no one grows old. Or Mag Mell (the Plain of Delight). They aren’t just fantastical settings. I like to think that they represent invitations to imagine what might lie beyond the surface of things. In Irish folklore, they are variations of the Otherworld, each with its own flavour of beauty, mystery, and transformation. The Otherworld isn’t heaven, and it certainly isn’t hell. It’s a realm of peace, radiance, and the unseen. It’s said to exist just beneath the skin of this world, accessible in the arms of Mother Earth, through liminal places like misty forests, wild lakes, and the twilight hours absent of the daytime noise.
For me, the Otherworld is not merely a mythical landscape, it is a gateway to emotional respite, to the parts of ourselves that sometimes feel lost or hidden, our strengths, our resilience. Therapy is kind of like a gatekeeper to our Otherworld, gradually revealing access to a place where healing, truth, and renewal quietly unfold, and are anything but mythical. In our Otherworld we are empowered, empowered to remain anchored in an ocean of turmoil, empowered to stand tall in a sweeping gale of despair, empowered to recognise that, like the butterfly, we are not what we once were, but vibrant in the shadows of human nature.
Mind yourself.
Alan.