Does the The Land Whisper Your Name Too?
Back in 2018, I was called to Ireland. The reason? No idea. There was an undeniable pull, though I couldn't quite explain it. I’d always felt a quiet attraction to Ireland, but it wasn’t something that was crystal clear—just a sense that it might be interesting, something worth exploring. After some research, I decided to go for it.
I felt I needed to stand on the cliffs, face the ocean, and let the wind shake every cell in my body, realigning them, bringing a new order. It was a call for renewal, for airing out the old, for embracing a fresh beginning. So I planned a solo trip, just me, driving along the Wild Atlantic Way. First time ever in Ireland. It sounded perfect.
And you know what? It was.
The gift I gave myself turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I felt at home there, like some part of my soul recognized the land. It felt as if I’d lived there before, as if the land knew me, and I knew it.
You can read more about that here:https://isayabelle.com/the-too-much-woman-travels-in-time-episode-2
The air in Ireland has this crispness to it, like it’s filled with ancient stories waiting to be heard, mixed with the salty breeze coming from he ocean. Every step I took on the land felt like I was having a quiet conversation with the earth, grounding, yet somehow otherworldly. The earth beneeth my feet seemed to hum with an energy I couldn’t quite explain, like it had been waiting for me all this time. The hills, the cliffs, the wide-open sky… hey all spoke to me in a way that didn’t need words, resonating deep inside me, like a long-forgotten memory stirring to life.
Of course I went back to Ireland. Actually I went back several times. I felt the same thing every time and had multiple "magic" energetic experiences, mostly in sacred places like Newgrange, the Hill of Tara, Poulnabrone Dolmen, Uisneach, Glendalough or the incredibly beautiful Cliffs of Moher. I know now that I had been there before. In another lifetime. Or actually more than one! I know that I was a healer and a druid in the middle ages, a magician of the ancient times and possibly a shaman in the Neolithic… Yes, the Land knew my name. And I knew its name too.
Have you ever felt this? That a place was calling you home, even if you'd never been there before? Have you ever stepped into a place and felt, inexplicably, that you already belonged? This isn’t just about feeling comfortable—it’s as if the land remembers you, as if some invisible thread is pulling you back to a story you’ve lived before.
My Elemental Reckonings
As you might know, I’ve been a traveller and a nomad most of my life, even as a child. I am Greek, and Swiss and French and I’ve lived in several European countries with my hippie parents first, then on my own, then with hubby and kids.My mother and all my mother’s lineage are Greek. My father and all my father's lineageare Swiss. SO is my husband.I have lived in France for most of my life… AndI'm usually OK with having multiple roots in multiple countries. When I was 18 years old, I counted… I had moved 14 times.And I did not stop changing houses until much later… More about that in another article…
Ioften define myself as a blowing in the wind woman, a daughter of the wind even.
Ihave learnt to feel "at home" in any place my feet touch the ground, to make friends and "family" easily and fast, and to grow roots wherever I stay long enough.
It feels easier in the country, where the connection to the and is immediate. But this strength or "power" I have developed works in cities as well.
But this has nothing to do with what I was talking about previously.
This is a talent that takes time, which is the consequence of actions and deliberate choices.
What I was referring toearlier… is an uncanny feeling, a supernatural manifestation and immediate "grasp" of familiarity, of kinship, of acquaintance. MaybeI was here before. And that is why I feel at ease here, that is why theland knows my name.
Andthis feeling has happened to me more than once, it has happened various times in the course of my life. Ireland wasn’t the first time. Actuallyone of the first time was … London! Being "shipped" to my uncle’s in London at the tender age of 13, given a travel card and the right to roam the streets of London felt like such a grown up experience… It felt elating! And oh! So familiar! Again, this land knew my name. The noise, the language, the tea, the atmosphere of the 80s scene in London was like a familiar turf… although it was my first time. And again I know now, after several visitsto the Akashic Records, that I have been a Londoner many times in other lifetimes. That would also explain why I yearned to learn English from a very young age.
The same type of thing happened for me in Scotland. The moment I arrived, the air felt different… and yet very well-known. Thick with mist, laced with the scent of peat and rain-soaked earth. The Highlands stretched before me, wild and unyielding, under a sky that couldn’t decide between sun and storm. The wind carried whispers, threading through the glens and curling around ancient stones, as if the land itself was telling stories older than time. Beneath my feet, the ground felt steady, familiar, as though I had walked these trails before. Maybe I had. Maybe some part of me never left.
Yes. Some places don’t just welcome you, they remember you. Sometimes it’s a specific place that instantly feels like home despite never having been there before, sometimes a recurring dream or memory triggered by a landscape, or a feeling of déjà vu so strong it feels like stepping back into an old life. And we seem to "end up" there, as if by accident… I believe it’s the land calling us back.
Myth, Memory, or Magic?
Why do some places feel like home, even when we've never been there before? Why does the land sometimes seem to know our name, as if it’s been waiting for us to return? There’s no single answer, but many possibilities—each as mysterious and powerful as the feeling itself. Maybe it’s past lives—traces of who we once were, echoing through time and pulling us toward landscapes we’ve walked before, in bodies we no longer remember. Perhaps, in another life, I stood on these same cliffs or wandered these same streets, my soul still carrying the imprint of those moments.
Or perhaps it’s ancestral memory, something carried deep in our bones. Could it be that my ancestors once lived on this land, that their stories and footsteps remain, woven into the very fabric of the earth? Maybe the wind carries their whispers, the rivers still hold their reflection, and when I arrive, something within me stirs in recognition.
Then there’s the possibility that the land itself remembers. That it is alive, sentient, aware and that just as we feel drawn to certain places, those places also reach out to us. What if the earth holds memory, not just of what has happened, but of those who have loved it before? And when we return, it simply welcomes us back.
Or maybe, some places resonate with our soul’s journey in ways that defy logic. Energy imprints, unseen threads of connection—some landscapes just belong to us, and we belong to them. We don’t have to understand why. The land holds stories, and some of us are meant to return to them.
What It Means to Belong to a Place
These moments have taught me that belonging isn’t just about where we’re born; it’s about where our soul recognizes home, where we recognize ourselves in the landscape, where the earth feels like an old friend, and the wind carries our name like it’s always known it. Some places call us back, not with words, but with a whisper in the wind, a rhythm in the earth, a feeling we can’t quite explain. Maybe it’s memory, maybe it’s magic. What does it mean to be known by the land? Perhaps it’s the land itself remembering. Or maybe, it’s simply a reminder to slow down, to listen, to trust that where we are drawn is where we are meant to be.
A Place That Might Remember You Too
Today I live in the southwestern part of France, close to the Spanish border. Here, the land is rich in history and the air is filled with the scent of sun-warmed earth, or damp muddy fields, and ripening grapes. The vineyards stretch across the hills like a patchwork of green and brown and red, their quiet presence both grounding and familiar. There’s a rhythm to life here… A slowness, a proximity with the changing seasons of nature, the wind weaving through ancient oak trees that seems to whisper something I almost understand, the amber evening light spilling over the vines, farmsand meadows. As I walk these hills, I can almost hear the echoes of those who have come before me, the stories carried in the soil, waiting for us to listen. And just like in Ireland, I feel it, the land knows me, and I know the land.
Although I am not from here, the land doesn’t seem to mind. It welcomes me anyway. It did so immediately when I first arrived here by accident 20 years ago. I felt it all at once. It was as if the land was taking me in, like it was saying: you belong, you’re home, have a seat, breathe. Here too, the land knows my name. Here, too, I feel that same unshakable sense of belonging, as if the land remembers me just as much as I remember it.
And maybe, just maybe, it knows yours too. If you’ve ever longed to step into a landscape that feels like home, to slow down and listen, to remember something deep in your bones… I invite you to come. This is why I’ve created my retreats here in "French Fields, not just as a getaway, but as a homecoming. It's not just a retreat, it’s a chance to step back into a place where the land, the air, and your soul can finally meet again. Maybe it’s time for you to listen to the call, too.
What if your ultimate self-care experience is waiting in the heart of the French fields? During our retreats we will walk the land and hear it speak as it did to the wise ones who came before us. Discover my wonderful area, its beauties, secret sites and views. You can count on... oracle spreads, guided meditation, journaling and creativity sessions, rituals and ceremony, as well as sacred walk, gentle movement and deep, transformational and inspirational breath and energy work. In a safe space we will take time to discuss and to honour what you need, whether it is rest, sleep, breathe, read, journal, dance, sing, learn, grow, laugh, or celebration!
From July 7th to 12th, join me and an intimate group of women for a transformative retreat filled with rituals, creativity, sacred sisterhood, and the magic of self-care.
Let’s walk this sacred path together—book your place today!
Voilà …
I believe that is all for today.
I would be so happy to hear from you.
Please like, comment, share and subscribe to my content if you find it inspiring.
I send, as always, love, light and gratitude.
Isaya
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