My Journey to Ireland, The Thin Places and More

As I sat at a lively Irish pub surrounded by a group of inspiring artists, my friend Karen and I shared the reason behind our travels. We told the group of six that we were on a spiritual journey to connect deeply with the people of Ireland and the land itself.

A beautiful soul named Jess leaned in and asked, “Will you be spending time at the Thin Places?”

I’d never heard that term before, so I asked her, “What are Thin Places?”

Jess smiled and explained that Thin Places are locations where the veil between heaven and earth is at its thinnest—sacred spaces where the energy is heightened, and the spiritual and physical worlds meet. She described them as the edge of the water between realms, where Spirit is more easily felt.

As she spoke, something clicked. In my mediumship work, I dwell in a Thin Place—that light- filled bridge that allows connection between our world and the Spirit world.

And with that, the quest began.

We set out to find those sacred places—where the air feels lighter, where the physical dissolves into the spiritual. Where time bends and blends, and past, present, and future converge.

Ireland is rich with Thin Places. Its spiritual history—rooted in paganism, Celtic wisdom, mystical beliefs, and Catholicism—makes it an ideal landscape to explore sacred portals and spiritual energy.

In all my travels looking for the Thin Places I kept seeing the Irish Celtic Cross. These ancient symbols stand tall in cemeteries, carved into sacred stones, woven into Irish art, and intentionally placed in homes and shops. They offer blessings and protection—a reminder of something greater.

The Celtic Cross dates back to around 500 BC, brought by the Celts—a diverse cultural group from Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Cornwall, the Isle of Man, and Brittany, collectively known as the Celtic Nations. It honors the four elements—Fire, Earth, Air, and Water—which symbolize the mind, body, soul, and heart. The circle around the cross represents infinite love and divine light, sometimes interpreted as Christ’s halo. As Christianity merged with the spiritual roots of Ireland, the cross evolved into a symbol that bridges both traditions. At its core, it offers strength, knowledge, and compassion for navigating life’s tides.

The most powerful Thin Place of all was Clonmacnoise we visited.Founded in 543 AD by St. Ciarán, Clonmacnoise rests peacefully along the River Shannon. It began as a monastic center for learning, surrounded by fertile land in the heart of Ireland. The river gently wraps around ancient stone walls that enclose a space rich with medieval architecture and centuries-old graves.

The moment I arrived, I could feel it—the energy of prayer and devotion woven into the earth itself. With my eyes closed, I sensed the quiet footsteps of monks on their daily meditative walks. I breathed in the blessings of this sacred place and also felt the sorrow from the times it was ravaged by invaders seeking to destroy what was holy.

Clonmacnoise holds all of it: the light and the loss, the devotion and the resilience. It remains a sacred threshold—a true Thin Place—where heaven and earth still touch.

Water, too, has a way of amplifying spiritual energy. I remember John Holland, professional psychic medium and spiritual teacher, once saying he always chose teaching locations near water. I attended two of his classes—one in Maine overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and the other in Fort Myers, Florida, along the Gulf Coast. Both were deeply moving, thanks in part to the energy of the water nearby.

In Ireland, we visited several “holy wells,” including the Holy Well of Tobernalt, St. Brigid’s Holy Well, and the Clanacalt Well—also known as the “Well for the Insane.” These sacred sites are believed to hold healing properties, with waters that bless and soothe the soul. Ireland is home to over 3,000 holy wells—more than any other country.

Each one we visited felt like a “wee bit” of a Thin Place, where the veil is thin and the spiritual energy, deeply magical. At Tobernalt, I lit candles for my family’s health and prayed. I felt a true connection to the Divine.

St. Brigid’s Well left an especially deep impression. The tokens of love left behind—honoring those who are suffering or have passed—moved me to tears. The cave-like setting pulsed with an energy of love and hope that words can hardly capture.

We also explored ancient pagan stone monuments, many of which seem to bridge the worlds. One of the most striking is Poulnabrone, a portal tomb in the Burren region dating back to over 3800 BC. Ireland has more than 200 of these dolmens, often found in farmers’ fields and left undisturbed out of reverence. Disturbing them is thought to bring bad luck, as they’re believed to be burial sites for warriors.

Another unforgettable experience was stepping inside the beehive huts along Ireland’s southwestern coast. These rounded, domed stone dwellings date back over a thousand years. You have to duck to enter—I’m 5’4”, and even I had to bend low. Inside, with eyes closed, I could feel the warmth of a fire once burning, a family gathered close, animals resting nearby. In that still moment, the past and present intertwined, and I could feel the comfort and safety these ancient shelters once offered.

Thin Places like these exist all over the world. In Mexico, the Aztec and Mayan ruins of Chichen Itzá, Tulum, and others hold a similar resonance. The pyramids of Egypt, too, vibrate with a powerful energy—bridging two worlds and reflecting deep astrological wisdom. In Ireland, though, I found something different. Less celestial alignment, more reverence for the turning of the seasons. A quiet rhythm between light and dark, birth and death, spirit and form.

I invite you to close your eyes and discover your own Thin Places—those sacred spaces where your soul feels the heartbeat of the Earth and the whisper of heaven. Where time slows, and something ancient stirs within you.

These portals are everywhere. You just might find one in your own backyard.

PSA Flight 182 • A Moment in Time

Ray (Left) and PSA Friends

In life, you’re not always aware of moments from the past which defined and created your life as you know it today. Sometimes, it takes years to realize how the events of a past date significantly impact our present moment. We are all affected by specific dates and past fates that provided us with the road we are on today. You are aware of some events immediately; some reveal themselves later in life. I have such as story, a moment in time that created my life as it is today.   

The date was September 25th, 1978. It was a warm autumn day in Los Angeles and most of California, with beautiful blue skies and a warm, breezy Santa Ana wind condition. I was a new college student at Cal State Northridge and was in my first class that morning. As the clock struck 9:01 am, 120 miles away, tragedy rocked the San Diego area in what is now the infamous airplane crash, in which 144 souls left this earthly dimension. I remember hearing about the PSA Flight 182 crash and the emotional news reports about this flight, departing from Sacramento to arrive in San Diego, with a short stop in Los Angeles. I remember thinking how scary it must have been for the people in the air and on the ground who were part of this tragedy. Still, I am sure I compartmentalized it in my brain and moved on, not knowing how this crash could have altered my future life's trajectory.   

My partner of the last 40 years, Ray O'Sullivan, was supposed to be on that flight from Sacramento to San Diego. He was a new hire with PSA Airlines, "the bird with a smile," as it was known, a growing commuter airline company that provided air service up and down the California corridor. PSA brought the "F" word to flying: " fun." The flight attendants (stewardesses) wore orange and hot pink miniskirt outfits, with super cute pill hats and go-go boots. The airline had fun, and vibrant energy, felt by the passengers and the employees. Most people who worked for PSA felt like this company was part of their family, and close friendships were formed. San Diego was the main base for this airline; in 1978, it was the sleepy, getaway beach town, which the residents hoped would remain a secret, so that it could stay close-knit and small.   

Ray was hired as a new "ramper," or Field Service Agent, for PSA, in Sacramento on August 22nd, 1978. Rampers are the workers on the tarmac, bringing up the luggage, loading and unloading them, directing the planes to the gates, and restocking supplies and food. They also have the "fun" job of draining the biffy, the toilet refuse, from the plane's underbelly. The rampers in Sacramento were a tight group of older Vietnam vets, and, for the most part, a new hire was rare. However, this particular summer, there were two new men, my Ray and another young gentleman, Mario, to join the ramp crew. Ray felt he had scored a Disney land job and loved being a ramper. PSA paid very well; however, Ray knew it was not his end job but a means to his real dream of being an independent businessman. The pay and the flexibility of hours allowed Ray to explore and learn about land development (his future passion).

Both men had been at the company for a month and were scheduled for training, in San Diego, for a few days. Ray was excited to be traveling to San Diego because his sister Barbara (who was a PSA Flight Attendant) lived in Mission Beach, and they loved spending time together. He also loved body surfing the ocean waves and couldn't wait to get to this beautiful city. The day before their flight was scheduled to depart, Ray discovered he was taken off Flight 182 and his training canceled. He was told he needed on the ramp instead because they were short-handed. Ray was upset and went to express this to his boss. Fortunately for Ray, his boss was at an emergency dental appointment; he was not there to answer why Ray was pulled off this trip. Ray was annoyed and frustrated but knew he would handle whatever was needed for this job. Mario was still scheduled, and he made this fateful flight to San Diego.  

On the morning of September 25th, Ray was waiting for his college economics class to begin when his professor walked in and said, "Did you hear what happened to PSA today? They lost a flight over San Diego! How will this affect their stock?" Ray asked him to repeat the announcement because his brain could not accept what his ears had just heard. The professor repeated the information, void of many details since it had only just happened. Ray packed up his things, left the class, and drove straight to the Sacramento Airport. He knew his sister, Barb, could be on that flight. Ray went directly into the PSA office and began to look for a manifest and the passenger list to determine if his sister was a passenger.   His sister Barb, the flight attendant, was meant to come home to San Diego that morning because she was finishing her two-day flight shift. PSA had multiple flights hourly; many PSA workers commuted to and from work. In 1978, phone communication was minimal; only landlines, no cellphones, existed.

Additionally, many phone lines were down due to the crash, and the lines were jammed with numerous callers regarding the flight. Ray remained calm but extremely worried as he sat at the station with all the workers around.   His large, Irish Catholic family, seven brothers and sisters, and two devoted parents were very close-knit; Ray imagined the devastation to his family if Barb had been on Flight 182. It was chaos in San Diego, and at every PSA city base, since over 35 employees were on that flight for one reason or another. Five hours ticked by; no manifest for the flight, no word from his sister. Suddenly, a flight landed from San Diego, and Ray recognized a flight attendant who knew Barb. He asked her if she had seen his sister today. She said she had, and she knew Barb was safe in San Diego. She also said Barb was on the plane directly behind flight 182, going into San Diego. With calm gratitude, he called his parents to let them know Barb was safe.  

This brings me to my story. Ray shared this story a few years into our dating. It was a brief conversation that I could feel he did not want to expand upon. Recently, we discussed that day in detail – his thoughts and feelings, recollections of the chain of events that led to him not being on that fatal flight. This made me ponder my life had Ray been on that flight. I asked myself, "What if Ray was not held back from training and was on PSA Flight 182?" The world, as I know it today, would look entirely different. Our union has created three beautiful children and two amazing grandkids. I know the world would look so very different without Ray.   Questions swirled through my mind: Where would I be living? Would I be living in my dream city of Colorado Springs? Would I have ever married? What about all the people Ray has affected since that date? What would their lives look like without his energetic touch? He has helped so many people financially, emotionally, and more. Also, my kids and grandkids would not exist in this earthly dimension, nor would the people they, too, have affected. All these crazy questions came up when he told me about that fateful day. I get so so sad, knowing how the world would be so different without Ray; what would it look like without him? Also, how different things would be for me, not having known and spent my life with this amazing man. It was a feeling of an It's a Wonderful Life scenario, pondering how many lives would have been affected if he had stepped on that plane. For me, what I know for sure, is it would be a less heartfelt world without his presence and my children's and grandchildren's presence in this world. Ray does not like accolades, so I will not keep going on about him; he would be upset with me for praising him. That is who he is, at the soul level. I am so grateful for his canceled flight and for the manager having a dental emergency. I am grateful for my sister-in-law, Barb, who was fatefully spared from being on PSA Flight 182. She has also done great things in her life and had children and grandchildren, who are also amazing individuals.  

Things that happen daily can affect you down the road -- a death, a birth, a crash, a single moment in time. I say the road is paved in many different directions; it's up to fate and choices that can define a person's life. Time is ticking, and we must live our best life today because tomorrow is not guaranteed. I often say this to the clients I read for because I am a professional Medium and Psychic. I am also grateful for this earthly time and the true understanding that life is fragile. I pay respect to all the families that have lost such amazing souls who were on that flight. Ray has spoken about how kind Mario was and how saddened he was, knowing he was on that flight and others he knew from the PSA family.   I know the victims' families have their "what if "moments as well if their loved ones had not been on that fateful flight. I know San Diego and PSA were never the same after that day, but I knew it did bring the PSA community closer and the San Diego community. From darkness does come light. I know this tragedy created better ways to track planes and better communication between air control and pilots. You cannot fully heal and grow without looking to find out the grace and goodness that occurs after a tragedy. I appreciate the dark and the light because they help us grow in our human experience.   

What I also know for sure, as a professional Medium, is death is not death but life in another form. Energy does not dissipate but transfers elsewhere. Our souls do not die but continue above. Some people call this heaven, the universe, and more.   In that crash, the souls that left the earthly dimension on September 25th, 1978, still speak to their loved ones, watch over them, and help from the other side. The loved ones left behind have to be open to the possibility of their presence, look for the signs, and believe.   

As a medium, healer, and psychic, this reflection comes from a deep space of gratitude, knowledge, and more.  

Carmel OSullivan, Heart to Heart Medium
Healer with a Message!
Carmosullivan.com