Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Impressions of Stonehenge

Thursday, June 04, 2009 

 
For a 2 year period in the 80’s, I devoured everything written about Stonehenge.  I am an avid self-learner and this is how things often go for me.  Months on one subject and then off to the next that piques my interest – Egypt, French Revolution, Jamestown, Piracy, Margaret Garner – too many over the years to catalogue.  So anyway, for about 2 years it was this ancient Neolithic rock structure located on the Wiltshire plains.  I dreamed of standing in the circle.  I learned about construction theories and how the sarcens might be transported, shaped and raised.  Learned about the summer solstice when the sun rises and shines perfectly down the main corridor.  Learned about other facets of archeaoastronomy and the possible alignements of the stones.  I painted abstractions of the ring of stones for homework in my art classes.  When asked the inspiration, I shrugged and replied Stonehenge.  Being a self-learner is probably a form of OCD for me.  Only years later would I begin to understand the deep reverance people felt for this ancient place.  I no longer read about it, but continued to imagine myself there from time to time standing in the center of the henge complete.  All the sarcens erect and the lintels in place.  Radiating power. 
            
            So this year, 2009, that dream became a reality.  My first impression  - WOW!  It is a  lot smaller than I imagined.  It seems too close to the roads, easily visible to the folks driving by.  I bet the locals hate the resulting henge jams.  The sarcens are not as tall as I had imagined them either.  Ravens nest in the rock crevices and caw and poop on the stones.  Sheep graze in the adjacent field and hares were abundant on the manicured lawn. 
            But it draws my eyes like a magnet.  I cannot look away.  The stones suck in and react with every mote of light surrounding it, bending it, re-coloring it, reflecting it.  It catches the evening light with rosy splendor, the afternoon light with a stark grace and the morning sun with absolute abandon.  Framing him in every doorway as if to say Welcome Home. 
            I begin by wandering aimlessly and getting a feel for the stones.  The inner ring carries a decidedly masculine energy, while the outer ring emits a soft feminine energy.  I am drawn to a portion of the outer ring with four sarcens and three lintels still intact.  A set of Eastern facing French doors that are the first to greet the sun.  These rocks speak to me of the strength of women and how they innately create community and bridge distances that one woman alone cannot.  I begin along the outer edges of the ring walking counter clockwise.  85 paces.  170 average woman steps.  That strikes me as too few to contain something as immense in my mind as Stonehenge.  I discontinue counting.  I do not want this 5000 year old structure to be made small by the numbers.  Moving in, I continue to walk slowly ring by ring.  I am deliberately raising the energy by following the path worn by the feet of thousands of other visitors thru the grass.  Am consciously connecting to the energy of this place that has been iconic to civilizations for eons.  Allowing it to speak to me.
            I take a deep breath and finish my journey by taking one small human step into the very heart of the henge.  That place where every line intersects.  That place where all lines of being and non-being, of power and powerlessness, of masculine and feminine, of god and human, all lines of duality converge.  Here the dichotomy is shattered and the polar ends seemingly stretched to meet one another.  A curious sensation.  Good to feel, but not entirely comfortable to stand there for too long.  Most people as I watched avoided stepping there altogether.  So, I step out and off center just a bit.  The change in me is immediate.  I stand stable and unassailable on my two legs as if I had four.  Gone is the shaky panicky fear  of Tintagel with its spindly heights and blowing stairs.  Stonehenge is a raw earth power meant to ground and center us here on Earth. 
            It is time to go, my hour almost up.  But, before I do, I submerge a couple of stones from my pocket in a shallow pool of rainwater that has collected in the mortise of one of the fallen sarcens.  I take them with me, knowing they will vibrate forever in tune with Stonehenge.  I collect the feathers that the ravens have shed.  Ask permission from the security guard who answers – ‘They’re just feathers’.  And I think to myself how he is both right and oh so very wrong.  

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