Posts Tagged ‘dragon’s egg’
Boyle Abbey is a sacred place of worship that was gifted to the Cistercians. This order of monks built their abbey over the top of an existing pagan site (if I remember the guide’s introduction properly), and I would suspect that this was actually a druidic college that they built over. For me the abbey was an attraction because it was supposedly the resting ground of many of my forebears who had been buried in the abbey’s grounds. The list records burials from the 12th Century onwards, but suggests that there may have been many more before that which were not recorded for posterity. Having just finished one adventure at Lough Key I was in the mood for more. Where better, I felt, to go in search of the ‘wandering’ spirit of Saint Duignan than here?
With the mundane aspect of ancestor-spotting out of the way I was free to concentrate on finding and communing with the spirit that I believe might be present at this place, having been led here from that other Cistercian abbey Vale Crucis in Llangollen (see this post for that tale). In that story I had spoken to a spirit who identified himself as St.Duignan and then had indicated that he had moved to a corresponding abbey in my homeland in Ireland. From my research Boyle Abbey was the prime candidate. Seeing the list of my ancestor’s burials in the abbey’s gatehouse was a strong indicator that I was on the right track.
The Sun Wheel
One of the interesting aspects of the abbey was its age. The current abbey layout was built upon the foundations of an earlier abbey that was a pagan construction, although identifying exactly what this was is diffucult. Some archaeology has been done to identify the original design and there is a plan view on display in the upstairs ‘museum’. In the architecture of the abbey are several examples of pagan stonework, such as a Sheela-Na-Gig and some rather raucous carvings of totemic astrological or heraldic birds and aminals atop the colunnades. Occasional reminders of this past lurk round many corners of the site, such as this sun wheel motif carved in stone:
Enough of the tourist stuff! We had the place almost to ourselves so I hid the dowsing rods away in a corner and set about ‘feeling’ for the presence of Duignan. Was he here? Was he contactable? Was I in the right place? Time to find out!
The Dragon’s Egg: Avebury
In the final part of chasing the dragon’s trail I found myself amongst the most impressive of Wiltshire’s ancient sites – the immense stone circles of Avebury. I arrived at 6pm as the sun was beginning its descent and shadows were growing long and dark across the split village. The occasional traffic still rumbled through, but parking was much easier than previous visits. Avebury can become a bustle on holidays, and even now it was hosting the occasional small family groups and couples admiring the ambience.
I got my dowsing rods out unashamedly – well, if I couldn’t dowse here where could I? All day the rods had drawn interested people over to question their purpose and capabilities. Each enquirer had been polite and genuinely interested. I guess this area attracts inquiring minds. I asked the rods to take me to the place where I could meditate upon the Dragon’s Egg (see previous post: Uffington). I was confident and hopeful as I was clearly guided around the avenues of stones, taking the straightest path to a stone on the south-western side of the village, close to the road and the ditch.
This image, taken from the interesting article on the JS Design web site, shows the south-western sector in which I found the stone I should sit next to:
(c) John Smout – JS Design
As I dowsed along a line of stones the rods reacted to one, directing me in a spiral around it until both rods touched the stone – this was the exact spot I should meditate at. I looked around – the sun was shining on the side where I should sit, there were very few people near the stone, and there was a perfect path of grass for me to sit on.
I took up a comfortable position facing the last rays of the sun and relaxed. I concentrated on feeling the dragon’s egg shaped area that I had in my chest area. Weird, I know. But I could feel it energetically, although it had no physical properties at all. As I cleared my mind of thoughts a flock of crows rushed overhead, cawing gently as they whirled round towards some trees at the edge of the ridge that enclosed the stone circle.
Despite being in what I felt was an appropriate mood I felt none of the magick that I had felt so far this day. I stood up and looked at the stone. Its pitted marks drew my attention. I picked up my dowsing rods and asked a few questions about whether these holes were relevant at all. I got a positive response. Several minutes later I had worked out that there was a series iin which I should ‘activate’ the stone, by placing my hand in certain holes in a specific order. It was very similar to one of the stones at Nine Stones Close in Derbyshire that I had decoded for myself recently. Now confident that I had the potential to unlock some special energy field I tried to replicate the sequence I had dowsed.
Something was wrong, however. The first few holes had felt warm, but then I put my hand in a cold hole and stepped back. Not what I was expecting. Oh damn, I realised, I had done it in the wrong sequence! Now all the holes felt cold as I tried to repeat the sequence. It wasn’t working now. I had blown it in my impatience! Just a few more moments memorising the sequence and a bit less haste in executing it might have been a different story, but now it seemed I might not get another attempt at this. As if to answer that silent question the flock of crows flew back from the trees over my head cawing again.
That was the end of my day. I retired to the Seven Stars Inn a few miles away and pondered what I might do the next day. Would I continue this Dragon’s Trail? Would I try to do something with the dragon’s egg again? Would I find a crop circle in the area still? Or would something even more amazing happen. As it turned out, the next day was going to top even this one!
However, in a coinciudence that took the mickey as I made my way over Windmill Hill late that evening. and parked up scanning the fields below for crop circles, a song came on the stereo - it was British Sea Power’s song “It Ended On An Oily Stage” which contains the lyrics “He found God in a Wiltshire field, whilst you did not.” OK lads – no need to rub it in! I hadn’t found any yet! Maybe next time I would learn to be a bit more focused.
Holding on to the dragon’s tail.
This is the second of three parts of a modern-day faerytale of George and the Dragon. In the first part I was meditating at Wayland’s Smithy and heard an instruction to “go for a ride”. I was in little doubt that this advice referred to the nearby ‘White Horse’ etched out in the chalk hills above Uffington village, and so I made my way there in the glorious August afternoon sun to see if I could work out where exactly I should be, and to see what would happen if I found the right place.
As I arrived at the top of the formation I couldn’t work out where I was relative to anything so I walked straight down the hill arriving almost immediately at two protruding straight lines. Odd! Looked like a mouth or something, so I plucked out the crab appleI had been carrying and placed it neatly between the “jaws”. I smiled – it looked like it was eating the little apple – a huge horse with a tiny apple. I could see other chalk paths now, but was careful not to tread on them. I moved fiurther down the hill and to the right, realising I was near the head. I was looking for the shoulder and flank, so I headed right and down.
Oddly, I didn’t use my dowsing rods to locate the spot. Instead I reasoned that a good spot to ride any animal might be the junction of the head with the back of the figure, and that’s where I went – straight to it. Conveniently there was a small man-sized hollow at just that point, and I made myself comfortable, lazing in the afternoon sunshine, welcoming the break from work and enjoying the view down the hill. From my vantage point three elements became apparent to me:
1. The ‘horse’ had a forked tongue
2. The plainly man-made folds of the hill below me spread out like a wing…a dragon’s wing.
3. The small flat-topped hill that was enclosed by this ‘wing’ I remembered was called “Dragon’s Hill”
Then it dawned on me – this was no horse. Only from this particular spot could all of the three unusual aspects of this figure be seen from the right perspective to make this apparent on the ground. Faint memories of other people having said the same thing floated through my mind. From that moment of revelation onwards I could no longer see this unique feature as a horse again! Sure, there were other chalk horses in the area, but they looked like horses – in their proportions and their features. This elongated chalk figure was nothing like those carvings at all. It was uniquely different. For me this will now be The Uffington White Dragon.
I meditated on this and tuned into the landscape, dissolving my sense of self into the sunlight, the winds and the view. Before long I felt the familiar surge of some inner notion and felt it connecting, becoming aware of the movement of nature, its interactions, and at the same time its one-ness. Such metap[hysics never comes across well in print. When it is felt, however, experienced – then its beauty can be appreciated. A semi-blissful state of mind, body and spirit – some days fleeting, others seemingly forever.
In this moment I was focusing on Dragon’s Hill without purpose. It just fell into view. I saw the mound in motion – the twin dragons of male and female, the red and the white, intertwining, writhing. A curling column of energy launched from them upwards into the Oxfordshireair and fell towards me. I could see an egg shaped object inside its mouth as it fell into me in a sudden plunge and I felt the egg land in my chest. I could see it spinning in me – white, then gold, next time I looked it was white again, then gold when I blinked. What was this thing, I mused to myself? “The dragon egg - the golden heart.” I answered myself.
After the shock and the bliss state had worn off I seemed remarkably unperturbed by the whole event. I felt a little proud and excited at this. What could this be? By its tenuous link with perception it was clear to me that it was an invention of my mind, yet it felt incredibly physical too – like I was wearing it inside my chest. I practised not noticing it – yes, I could still operate in the rational world – no-one was staring at my white then gold chest, I wasn’t glowing or anything, and I still had my wits about me.
I started to get up, and as I did so I saw a negative image of the Dragon’s Hill in my eyes – it looked like a stone circle. It flashed momentarily then there was only a faint after-image. Too long in the sun! I told myself. Where were my sunglasses when I needed them?
A stone circle. A stone circle. Circle. Another kindly signpost. Would that be where I could hatch this “egg” – the golden egg? It felt like an episode of The Goodies! The Christmas Special episode of the late 1970s where everybody’s running is speeded up as they’re chased through various old children’s stories like Jack and the Beanstalk and the Goose That Laid The Golden Egg.
I went back to the car to check the maps. Stone circles in the area…stone circ…Avebury! Of course. It was late afternoon now. I would be there just as the light was beginning to sink to the horizon. Perfect timing, by coincidence. What an over-used word.
Sliding down the scales of The Dragon