Posts Tagged ‘cross’

Samhain at Clulow Cross

In a way you judge someone by the quality of the places that they take you to. Recently I was taken to a place the day before Samhain this year. I had once so nearly visited but somehow circumstances had conspired to make me miss it by only a short distance. Now I had a tour guide with local knowledge. When Mike spoke of the place it was in reverential tones, and the hint was always that it was a magickal place. The kind of place where you may come away with the course of your life taking a slightly tangential turn. He had spoken of the place’s power for change in the way that people who have genuinely experienced life-changing moments do – hushed tones, distant eyes – as though recalling some kind or form of force that the Anglo-Saxon pillar was imbued with.

You are then left with a decision – do I believe the power of this place, or do I have to go test it our for myself? I have to test it, of course! Progress must take its course during the year’s treadmill. Places of power should be visited. The dilemma – who by? Yet the Land can have lessons for everyone, surely. Good or bad. Clever or stupid. If I tell of the place, then I advertise its wonder, and more people probably come. There are some wells near where I live that birthed and died through the advertisement of their miraculous energies, effects and efficacies. However, I will mention the place’s name. What people do with it will reap its own rewards.

Clulow Cross - A truly illuminating place

In a previous post about the nearby Bullstones I had supposed that this had been the magickal stone that Mike’s tales had been centred upon. I was wrong. The description of the surroundings had matched my previous finding exactly, so when Mike and friends had allowed us to follow them up into the Derbyshire moorland and hills I thought I knew exactly where we were going. As we parked and got out of our respective cars the other group appeared to be heading in the wrong direction, until I realised that it was me who had made the mistake. Clulow Cross was down in the field on the Congleton side of Hammerton Knowl, not standing on the other side of the Knowl’s ridge between Wincle and Wilboarclough. This was the pillar remainder of an actual stone cross, not just a place name to locate a hidden monolithic treasure. And hidden it is. Nestled in a clump of middle-aged beech trees, the cross itself is hard to spot until you are within striking distance with an acorn.

An Aside About Access

I have probably pussy-footed and tap-danced around this subject for many years on this blog. Let me state this right out now as an opinion, and then I will attempt to back it up.

I have a right to walk the land. My right. My land. I will walk it. I will be respectful, courteous, kind and gentle as I do so. But I will walk it. It is my, our, everyone’s land.

Anyone who believes they own land needs to consider this perspective – the land has been there before humans as a species were even invented. Once we were invented we were given intellect to allow the development of the concept of custodianship. We are all of us guardians of our own lands, the lands with which we identify in our hearts.

Yes, others may choose to abuse their rights, and those that choose to be discourteous and un-cooperative with the custodians will always exist, but they are a manageable minority who will cause ill-will in whatever environment they find themselves. They are a test of everybody’s patience, and are not exclusive preserve of the irate farmer, or the country estate employee, or the quarry worker, or the member of this and that Trust.

Those who consider themselves to be “land owners” will have to live with their own arrogance on a daily basis. You ought only to encounter it occasionally as you walk these lands. We have a right to roam. We always have. We always will.

So, now that you understand my position and haven’t yet stopped reading in outrage and humph-pah, well, you should read on to find out what magick awaits the pagan who claims the right to roam.

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A Grandfather’s Message

Last month I visited one of Manchester’s north-eastern satellite towns called Shaw.I went on a whim, and had map-dowsed the place I should go to, only to find that it had family connections – my grandparents had lives there. I remember visiting my grandmother in Shaw, but my grandfather had died before I was born, so I never knew him except via a photograph. When I got there I was directed to go and meet with the shade of my grandfather. He told me that he had a special message for me, and that I would need to return just before Samhain in order to obtain the information.

I waited eagerly until close to the fated time and then began to get twitchy – when would the day be best to do this? I dowsed it out and found that Wednesday 26th October would be the ideal date, and then the energy associated with this task would wane very quickly. Only one slight snag with that date – I was due to attend a day’s course in London for work and I couldn’t do otherwise!

By Wednesday evening I had almost given up hope of making it back from London in a reasonable time. Traffic was terrible, the weather was bad, and I had missed my motorway junction right at the start adding half an hour to my journey time. Several hours later I was in two minds as to whether to go, given that I only got back home at 9pm. Nevetheless I went, travelling an hour north past Manchester to reach the hills above Shaw. Call it dedication. Call it madness. Call it a calling. I made the journey in the darkness and dampness.

Having recce’d the site before everything was straightforward, even though it was dark this time. I knew where to park, how to get to the hill, and what kind of path to expect. Even though it was new moon and there was no moonlight the hill was oddly lit. Maybe it was the ambient lighting of the towns in the valley below?

The dowsing rods led me to the same place as last time to communicate – a small semi-circular recess slightly back from the edge of the sheer drop into nothingness at the edge of the Besom Hill‘s sheer edge. Oh yes, “Besom Hill”. as in “besom broomstick” associated with witches. On Halloween. I know. Again – I was completely ignorant of this until I came to write this post up and view the place on an OS map. Really! This is just how these things happen.

I crassly asked for a physical sign of my grandfather’s presence. This was responded to by a distant boom, like a loud firework going off or a thunderclap. I took this to be fireworks because Bonfire Night was only a week or so away, and I tried again. Same thing. I asked for one more time. Same happened again. I asked for something more local to happen, and nothing happened. I can’t be sure what happened really, whether I was repsonded to or not, but the dowsing rods confirmed the presence of a spirit that responded as my grandfather.

I put some crystals around me to enhance my protection and focus the spirit. We communicated, and after a few minutes I began to see images and hear my voice talking about ancestors. It was talking about gathering the energy of my ancestors and accumulating that energy to enhance my own personal power – not in an egotistical way, more as a means to increase my abilities. My grandfather’s spirit suggested strongly that I should begin a task of going around finding and collecting any remaining family ancestor energies.

I asked if it was the same thing to obtain the energy of a spirit such as the one I had obtained co-operation from at Clun Castle. The answer was NO. This was different. Then I was shown a picture of ancient people going into megalithic sites to go through a ritual to commune and merge with their ancestors’ spirits. I asked if I could do the same. I felt something sit with me in the same place as I was, and then it began to merge with me so that I was seeing through its eyes, which were my eyes, because it was also seeing through me. I felt the energy form become one with me and I shivered a little, even though I was warm.

I dowsed as to what had just happened. My grandfather’s energy had entered into my own energy form. I had been protected against other spirits doing this, and had only allowed the spirit of my grandfather to do this, so I was happy that I had got the right energy form. I set off back home and got diverted back a junction again on the M62 motorway. Really, someone or something was trying to make this as difficult as possible for me! I was tired enough already from nine hours of driving that day!

When I got home I dowsed if any change had occurred to me – YES, my spiritual and magickal power had increased. I don’t know what this means yet, or how I could measure it, or what the consequences might be, but it was an interesting experience. Time will tell if it was beneficial! In terms of collecting my ancestor spirits – one down and several to go?

Gwas.

Kells: The Cross of Mysteries

Saturday 29th May – Kells, County Meath.

This is the third place visited on my chakra trail in Ireland. In this part I was looking to unblock, balance or boost my solar plexus chakra. Kells is a town steeped in history, and one whose reputation precedes it. However, if you’re not aware of its reputation, let me list some of the things that Kells is famous for:-

  • The Book of Kells – an early illustrated manuscript depicting and relating the four Christian Gospels of the New Testament.
  • The Abbey of Kells, withits round tower, associated with St Columba
  • The five large celtic crosses in the churchyard at the Abbey.
  • Pierce Brosnan lived in Kells from a young age until he was about 18.

…and that’s all you need to know about Kells. Basically, there’s a strong Christian connection, with a subtle undercurrent of Celtic paganism.

Guided information about the church, tower and crosses

A Helpful Warning

This is probably one of the most controversial posts I have made so far, and I do realise it may alienate some people. If you have followed me on this journey so far then you might be in a better position to read this post and see what I am saying. If you are reading this post in isolation from the journey I have made so far then this might be a bit too much to take, and I would ask you to skip back a bit to catch up! Let me give you fair warning. Some of the subjects covered in this post are:

  • reclaiming the Christian cross symbol
  • ascended masters / spirit guides
  • chakras

The terms “ascended master” and “spirit guide” are interchangeable in this context, so read whichever you are more comfortable with. I kind of “broke the seal” on this kind of thing when I posted recently about the ‘leprechaun’ entity that I had encountered. I have held off telling you anything else because….well, frankly, I wouldn’t know how to take this if I were reading it! I only know that, deluded as I am, I’m reporting what I find. I know what you’re thinking – what happened to the good old “do a bit of dowsing, report the findings…” blog that you used to know and love? Well, it was the dowsing that has taken me to these areas in the first place, so blame that! There’s a point you reach where you begin to test some of these esoteric ideas, and then a path opens up….well, if you’ve been following me for a while you know how I got here. There’s no turning back now! What can I say?

The world is not only stranger than we suppose – it’s stranger than we CAN suppose!” (to mis-quote JBS Heldane).

Luckily, to support my soon-to-be-revealed point of view I quote Haldane’s other memorable conception:-

“I suppose the process of acceptance will pass through the usual four stages:
(i) this is worthless nonsense;
(ii) this is an interesting, but perverse, point of view;
(iii) this is true, but quite unimportant;
(iv) I always said so.”

Solar Plexus mandala

I think it is pertinent for me to list some general information about that chakra to start with, because it will help to make sense of what happened to me at Kells. General properties associated with the Solar Plexus chakra are :-

  • Physical Location – solar plexus
  • Purposes – mental understanding of emotional life
  • Spiritual Lesson – acceptance of your place in the life stream. (self-love)
  • Physical Dysfunctions- stomach ulcers, intestinal tumors, diabetes, pancreatitis, indigestion, anorexia/bulimia, hepatitis, cirrhosis, adrenal imbalances, arthritis, colon diseases
  • Mental and Emotional Issues – self esteem, fear of rejection, oversensitivity to criticism, self-image fears, fears of our secrets being found out, indecisiveness
  • Information Stored Inside Sacral Chakra – personal power, personality, consciousness of self within the universe (sense of belonging), knowing
  • Area of Body Governed – upper abdomen, umbilicus to rib cage, liver, gallbladder, middle spine, spleen, kidney, adrenals, small intestines, stomach
  • (source: About.com)

    Click below for the interesting bit of this story.

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    Baltinglass: Treading on the toes of the Little People

    Friday 28th May – Baltinglass, County Wicklow

    I got a bit carried away telling you about the good stuff and I forgot to tell you about the bad stuff, “Lesson #1″, or as we refer to it “The Leprechaun Incident“. Let me take you back in time to Friday 28th May. You may remember that we had just been on our first visit to the major sites along the Boyne River, namely Knowth and Newgrange. We had been having a wonderful time.

    As we returned to the car from the Visitor’s Centre Kal reminded me about my ash staff. When should we go and see if it was still there? Well, as it was early afternoon I guess now would be a good time, less than 24 hours after I left it at the Castleruddery stone circle. Or at least, that’s where I hoped I had left it! Otherwise it was lost. I was utterly resigned to that idea. Remember, none of these material items is invaluable. None. All things come and go. Some things have their own path once inbued with sentience. Perhaps the staff and I had parted ways and someone else way now using it? It mattered little, yet I was willing to go back to the other side of Dublin, a good two hour drive, just in case it was still there. Hey – there were sites down the N81 that we hadn’t seen yet, so….nothing to lose, right?

    When we arrived I vaulted the stile and raced to the Castleruddery circle – I could see the staff still propped up against the old ash tree that lined the circle’s embankment. Yeah, like I wasn’t bothered or anything? Right! I was relieved to have it back. We decided to see what else was in the area and for some reason we thought that a cluster of sites atop a hill in the nearby town of Baltinglass would be a good thing to go and see, even though there was no obvio9us way to access them. We entered the town of Baltinglass apprehensively and Kal was told off for using the toilets in a pub. Good start! There was an odd feel to this town, and no mistake. Both of us were on edge and flustered for some unknown reason.

    We couldn’t find a good place to park or access the track or path that led up the hill to the ancient sites so we parked at the bottom of a lane that led to a farm. At every few turns of the track were signs warning us that we were on farm land, not a public highway or byway. Which we ignored. We checked the farmhouse for signs of life so that we could ask permission, but all was quiet, so we made our way quietly over a gate into a field populated with bulls, and then another with sheep. All the while we were climbing steadily up this steep slope, and the sun was getting hotter.

    Conifer forest and steep slope above Baltinglass

    We headed for a corner of the field away from the farmhouse – feeling guilty for not having obtained permission to cross the land. We reached a corner of a field where there was an unreasonably tall wall – some 8 feet high! We found what appeared to be a hole in the corner of the wall, and if we climbed and pushed ourselves through the gorse and bramble we could climb through and get into the safety of the forest where we wouldn’t be seen going up the hill.

    The forest was made up of densely packed fir trees, old tall gorse bushes and old and thorny brambles. We tried to find and pick our way through a path through the plantation as best we could and about half way in we reached several dead ends and were forced to consider turning back. Despite sweating like crazy and being torn to shreds we pushed onwards – the GPS telling us how far we still had to go. It was the countdown to hell! After 30 minutes of fighting with the forest we broke free into the daylight again breathing sighs of relief and trying to cool down. We turned to each other saying things like “I never want to go through THAT again!”

    At this point Kal realised he had lost his dowsing rods!!! The only pair he had brought with him on the trip. He was clearly gutted. We vowed to go find them if we could, but didn’t relish going back into the forest, and to retrace our steps was impossible. We oddly made the decision, in the heat of the middle of the day, to continue climbing UP the massively steep slope towards the top of the hill. After all, we were almost half way up!

    What to see on Baltinglass Hill

    Looking over Baltinglass, County Wicklow

    We were on a really steep track like that up to Llandrillo, but made of mud not tarmac. As we finally reached the top, another half hour later – we found the hill fort ringed by a huge wide wall of boulder. After clambering somwewhat precariously inside we found the site littered, almost literally, with the remains of  some burial chambers – mostly damaged and strewn, and cluttered with water and pop bottles. Nice! We dowsed to see if there was anything useful up there – not a single thing. In fact, it was detrimental for us to remain there for any length of time so we were forced to leave rather quickly!

    A curious altar within a chambered tomb atop Baltinglass

    As we clambered out over the huge wide wall of stones again we noticed the trig point and standing stone nearby. Worth a visit? Might we salvage somethign out of this experience after all? The trig point marked the actual high point of the hill. At its base was a poorly-nailed cross made from two short pieces of cheap wood. What the…? What could be the purpose of such a crude object? Again, we sensed and dowsed a strange connection between the bad energies around and the curious signs that were laying in our path!
    One thing that wasn’t badly affected by negative energies was a standing stone just back from the edge. I saw that, like The bullstones in Cheshire, this standing stone was wonderfully aligned with several nearby parts of the Wicklow Mountain range which almost surrounded us. Stunning alignments. Spectacular. My spirits lifted, but only briefly. The wind was starting to get up and I could see that Kal had little remaining appetite to continue with this folly, his mind pre-occupied with the idea of perhaps trying to find his dowsing rods. Oh yes, for that was what he planned! I spotted an animal trail that resembled a trail down the hill and we followed it back towards the conifer forest in a more direct but easier to follow route.

    Solitary standing stone above Baltinglass

    A Swift Return to Hell

    On the way back down we found an abandoned small tent, like everything else around there it was randomly strewn around and in poor shape. Looked like someone had though that this hill might be good for camping, but had been disabused of that idea so quickly that they had to flee leaving the tent to its own fate! Another strange sign of destruction and a portent of doom that added to our growing unease. We headed down the back of the forest to see if we could connect with the point where we had entered it and see if Kal had dropped his rods right at the beginning;. A fruitless search began which yielded, as expected, nothing. As I sat ont he tal wall listening to Kal getting scratched and lashed a thought came to me – this was the work of a leprechaun. We had crossed into a leprechaun’s territory, and he had stolen Kal’s rods! Our story, as I played it back, was so filled with portent, so akin to the tales I had read in childhood of the activities of the Little People, so much a tale of woe and warning – what else could it be? I told Kal what I thought and he laughed, but not in a dismissive way, in a nervous way!

    We moved through a field of bulls which woudl lead us back to the field through which we oculd reach the town again. Iwarned Kal not to stare at them or make a noise, but regardless of that the bulls began to charge us! We high-tailed it over the nearest low-point in the barbed-wire fence at a gap in the hawthorn trees, but were faced with the awful task of having to leap a six-foot a ditch which held three stinking rotting corpses of sheep and a cow – putrid with the sun’s activity, and making our nostrils reek of foul vapours! We almost retched but leapt over (just makign the five foot jump) and hurried down the hill for the corner and the gate to the trackway and freedom. We tried to climb quietly over the gate again past the farmhouse, but now the owner must have returned because three dogs set off barking and we had to run back to the car, sweating and panicky again.

    This was the hell of our worst experience of dowsing ever. What lessons could we learn from this? Only one – when the warning signs are presented, and you have the option to heed them, be sensible and heed the advice! If Nature ways “turn back” then bloody well do it or face the awful consequences!!

    Gwas.

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