In 1860, my paternal great grandfather, Arthur Davies, was born the eldest child of David and Margaret Davies in Castellnedd (Neath) on the southern coast of Cymru (Wales). At age two, his first brother was born and upon word that both mother and baby were alive and well after the birth, my great, great grandfather, David, boarded a ship to the United States to begin establishing a life in this country before sending for Margaret and the boys to join him another two years later. A beginning tailor by trade, it was said that he was eager to learn English and adopt the ways of his new country and he purposefully left the Welsh-speaking enclaves of Pennsylvania to which he first arrived and began making a life in a predominantly English-speaking area of Ohio near Cleveland.
While the specifics of this history were largely unknown to me until the last 20 years or so, in October of 1993, over 130 years after my great, great grandfather’s ocean voyage, I found myself on a plane flying from New York’s JFK airport to London’s Heathrow on my first set of permanent orders out of the Naval Academy. These orders were for a two-year tour of duty as an Integrated Undersea Surveillance System Officer at a small joint-use base on the southwest coast of Wales. While neither the shift-work nor the job were all that ideal for me, having the honor and privilege to live, explore and grow on the land there was something incredibly special and life-changing. I have never felt so at home in my skin and my bones as I did on that land, taking every opportunity I could to hike different portions of the 186-miles of the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path that ran right through the little fishing village of Solfach (Solva) I called home for much of my two-years there. (Note: Earlier this year, I discovered that my great, great grandfather David actually grew up in the small town of Drefach which is only a couple of hours by car northeast of Solfach). My leaving to return to the States in 1995 was one of the great heartbreaks of my life and no matter where else I have lived and traveled since then, there has always been a sort of soul homesickness in me that longs to be back sitting in the wind atop one of those cliffs overlooking the Irish Sea.
After my return to the States, my paternal grandfather, Dan Davies (Arthur’s son), began to put together an extensive geneology history (pre-internet) that included many phone conversations and much collaborative research with cousins in both Canada and Wales. Prior to his death in 2005, he sent this compiled and curated history out to each member of my family and I will be forever grateful to him for this as it has been an invaluable resource to me in the ancestral work I hold so dear.
Fast forward to 2020 shortly after lockdown and quarantine began, I found myself in the midst of a personal and professional crisis like none I had navigated before. Desperate for support, protection and guidance on a visceral level, I called hard on my ancestors for help. To my great relief and surprise, the Welsh line with its dragon medicine descended in force in an almost literal blaze of glory. To honor them and feel this medicine close at hand on a daily basis, I painted the front door of my house as a giant Welsh flag and began using the tools now available via the internet to begin learning the Welsh language which had felt so beyond my reach when I lived there.
As I have continued to study this language that is one of the world’s oldest, I have found that it’s unique sounds resonate within my body and being as a sort of “soul tongue.” It is the language with which I increasingly open and hold most of the rituals and ceremonies I offer and I am eager to share the joy of learning and discovering it’s wisdom and intricacies with any who are willing to listen. I am also so very grateful to my Welsh tutor, Virginia Steinkamp, who continues to push my edges and support and encourage my growth in this endeavor month after month.