The Road To Peace Is Paved With Teacups

I moved to a place perched on a tall cliff above the mythical Sea of Moyle, where Lir’s swan children lived on the deep and restless currents. To a place where big skies light up and die, and roaring winds swoop down on sheep and humans and gorse and bracken tangles alike. A place just outside Ballycastle, a town nestled at the base of a bay in the shade of Knocklayd mountain, a stone's throw from Rathlin Island where the Vikings first set foot on Irish soil, in 795 AD. At the heart of our place is a stone shrine called the Croí (the Irish word for heart), where a candle is lit beside a small turf cross every dark evening after the big bell tolls. Corrymeela is the name of the place, a name that came from the earth, here on the northern coast of Northern Ireland. Corrymeela is a peace and reconciliation centre that for the past fifty years has been a safe space for people to encounter the feared or hated Other and relearn to see their humanity within, that transcend...