The Hedge Druid

Posts Tagged ‘spirit of place’

Sean Quinn, once Ireland’s wealthiest man, is now bankrupt. Some are beginning to speculate as to why this might be – dodgy deals, reckless investments, or bad luck? Well, the bad luck angle is getting some airplay at the moment. Some people put the collapse down to a single decision made in the heyday of the Quinn empire, when Quinn Concrete wanted to expand its quarrying to encompass Aughrim Wedge Tomb – a megalithic site on the Cavan/Fermanagh county border in Northern Ireland.

Sean Quinn before the faeries got him

Of course, the press are blaming “faeries”, and the locals are adding grist to that mill. In my experience, though, there are invisible sentient presences who are charged with the custodianship of sacred sites, and who are sustained energetically by the location and construction of these megalithic monuments. Kal has many tales of times when he has been symbolically or actually “smacked” or nearly had his eye poked out simply because he failed to acknowledge their presence before trampling over their homes. I have also learned from my early mistakes and now I treat these Spirits of Place with a great deal of respect, approaching them as spiritual equals.

The reconstructed Giant's Grave wedge tomb

It is no surprise to me that Mr Quinn has found that forces beyond his control have intervened in this affairs and that his “luck” has taken a turn for the worse. Of course, the two events may be completely unconnected. Without knowing the man and dowsing his circumstances I couldn’t hope to know whether there has actually been any energetic interference in the course of his life and destiny, but I would say this: you would do well to consider this as a possibility, a cautionary tale.

My advice is to consider the needs of the site’s citizens whether visible or not before ploughing ahead with your own needs when it comes to sacred places!

Source: Belfast Telegraph

Gwas.

I sometimes find myself doing some very strange things without knowing why. This night was one of those strange evenings, and yet the strangeness would continue beyond this night and lead to an even stranger conclusion by the time I had finished unravelling all of the clues.

I had decided that at some point in the week I would need to go somewhere. The weather was good, so I got out my dowsing rods and began to enquire about a suitable place for me to learn something that would progress me on my spiritual path – the usual request – general and open. The responses I got seemed to indicate that I could find such a place in the county of Shropshire, and that the place existed on the Megalithic Portal, so it was only a matter of bringing up a list of sites in Shropshire and working through a process of elimination to find the site that I was expected to go to. Soon I found it – The Berth – an ancient hillfort and associated pool near the village of Marton a short distance from the main A5 road. I did some reading on the Megalithic Portal about access to the site – not good. Permission from the local farmer is suggested. Well then, a covert visit may be in order given that I would be arriving late at night.

The Berth [Portal]

I put on my dancing trousers (well, the fleece-lined ones – it might be cold) and began to journey southwards from Cheshire. Soon I was past the eastern edges of Wales and skirting the western fringes of England. Within an hour I had arrived at Marton in the dark of the late evening and was searching around on a small-scale OS map for the perfect place to park and navigate through the fields to the hillfort. Luckily, without too much fuss, I found such a place down a road marked “Unsuitable for motor vehicles.” No kidding! Good job I was in a four-wheel drive machine.

A map showing The Berth hillfort in Shropshire

I parked at the only place down the narrow country lane that would fit a car. Using my print-out of a low-level OS map I headed off further down the lane. Five minutes later I realised I must have gone past the entry point I was looking for and doubled back. The entry point turned out to be where I had parked the car! When will I learn to trust my intuition? Such a hard thing to do!

Several times I had to stop myself from asking the obvious question, “What the hell are you doing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?“. Luckily, I didn’t allow myself to even try to formulate an answer, but instead began to walk across the fields towards what I hoped was the right place, breathing in the still-warm evening air and wishing I hadn’t muffled myself up because I was beginning to overheat! This is October, right? Supposed to be cold and damp? Instead we are in the tail end of a heatwave and it was still 15 degrees late into the evening. Bizarre weather!

Fortune seemed to be on my side, guiding me towards something whose very impulse and importance I could sense like a scent on the night air.

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With about as much preparation as a shotgun wedding Kal and I decided to meet up “half way” in Chepstow in order to explore the South Wales area for megalithic sites. We both had different quests to pursue, but sometimes the quests are secondary to the much more enlivening act of just being out together at sacred sites, for there is no more pleasurable experience to me than to be with my old mucker dowsing and discovering things druidical and deep at the darkest and dingiest neolithic remnants these fair lands have to offer.

So we pointed a random finger at the map and with only a name to follow and the promise that something worthwhile may be there we headed towards Parkmill village just beyond Swansea in West Glamorgan. I had already travelled for three hours to get to Chepstow, but such is our zeal for our quests that I was prepared to venture another hour or so into the furthest corners of west Wales just on the off-chance that this place might be good. Luckily, it was better than good!

We arrived at Parkmill and took what we presumed was the right track past the Heritage Centre and ended up at a small car park. We checked the maps but couldn’t decide which way we ought to be going so I went over to check a nearby information board supplied by Cadw. It showed the area of Parc le Breos (Park Le Bruce, or Park Wood) to be full of interesting sites – a reconstructed long cairn, a cave and possibly a well. Frankly, I didn’t read past the long cairn – already I wanted to see it. We made our way up the well-made path, eager to see what this reconstruction had to offer.

Information about the Park Wood site

The long cairn (or more properly I should say it is an Initiation Chamber) had been excellently rebuilt. It looked beautiful, and gave us a very good idea of how the front may have looked in its original form. These builders clearly knew how to make a great structure. I took some pictures then put the camera away. It was time to have a look around inside. I approached the entrance and introduced myself to the place. When I walked forward I asked if I may enter and waited for a response. I got one – a horrible push in my stomach that felt like a nasty prod in the guts. Hmmm…rejection. It would seem that I wasn’t in the right state to enter at this time – maybe not at all?

I got my dowsing rods out and asked if there was something I could do in order to prepare myself for entry into the chamber. The rods directed me away from the building and towards the nearby line of trees. As I broke through the tree line into the woods the rods swung around to point at the moss-lined back of a large oak tree. “Sit here!” they seemed to be saying. So I sat down and lit some incense sticks, hoping they would assist me with the cleansing process. I felt I ought to rid myself of my “worldly” energies – the energetic clutter and state of mind that comes from driving in the modern world. I wasn’t in a megalithic state of mind yet!

Minutes later the oak had helped me to divest myself of all my detritus, and I felt cleaner and really “tuned in” to the place. I thanked the tree and went back to check whether or not I would be able to get back into the chamber to do some work.

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At the end of August 2011 I found myself with an evening free and an urge to visit a sacred site where I could learn more about the five healing rays that I have been studying. As a reference for those of you who haven’t been following this particular series from the beginning, here are the related posts:-

• My five healing rays - in which I identified the rays, and their basic principle

In this visit I was hoping to have some information revealed to me that would show me how these healing rays could actually be used, in other words – how does one invoke them, and how are they utilised once invoked? The beautiful circle of Moel Ty Uchaf was to be my teacher this evening.

A stunning rain and sun backdrop above Llandrillo

On my journey up the steep trackway to Moel-Ty-Uchaf stone circle I was welcomed by a rainbow, which was somehow fitting considering I was here to try to get some more answers about the nature of the healing energy rays that I can work with. Apparently I have until Samhain this year to get my theory and practise all sorted out, because then I will face a challenge, a task, a test of skill, perhaps an opportunity to progress. I knew what failure meant – another turn on the Wheel of the Year to go around in a circle rather than a corkscrew movement upwards. I was taking every opportunity I could to do my homework.

As I passed the trees that line the lower part of the route up the hill I asked them about their energies. Are they male if the tree is male, and so on? The answer was that trees have no gender, they are both male, female and neutral, and so they can create living energy lines that are of any of these “flavours” depending on what the tree wishes to harmonise with, draw from, or support. Its own intent creates the required alignmentAlignment relates to the concept that humans have their own energy fields that are oriented or formed in a specific way such that the person is either suited better to one energy source of another. Some people have their energy fields empowered by the direct subtle energy force of The Sun, whilst others are empowered by the indirect subtle energy of The Moon. Due to the historical associations and symbolisation of The Sun with masculinity and The Moon with femininity we designate these alignments as either being ‘male’ or ‘female’ alignments accordingly. We interchangeable refer to people as being ‘sun-aligned’ or ‘male-aligned’ and similarly with the female alignment..

With all my physical training I found that I didn’t need to stop once going up the hill. At the top I was breathing deeply, but not out of breath for once, nor tired or leg-weary. My calf muscles were also intact for once. Amazing result! But nowhere near as amazing as the view that I was about to be presented with as the clouds that had dogged my ascent began to part letting through the rays of the setting sun over the Conwy Mountains. In the picture below, look for the unusual photographic artefact of the sun converging to a turquoise point! Or is it something from the ground opening a hole in the clouds?

The sun appears over Llandrillo - view from Moel Ty Uchaf

I ate my Co-Op convenience catered tea at the King Stone and began to introduce myself once more to the Genius LociGenius Loci means 'spirit of the place' and refers to the geological/gaian spirit of place. It is transfixed to a place – being an embodiment of the collective intelligence of the place., asking for permission to work with her to ask questions about healing. Using my rods I determined that she would co-operate with that, but I felt that I would have to offer her something in return. Intuitively I was given the sense that there was some earth energy healing that I would have to put into practise here. This wasn’t going to just be a one-way theoretical lesson!

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In this second part of my Anglesey outing for Lughnasagh I will be telling you about my meditation at the Benllech dolmen, and a revealing dowsing encounter.The story is also a warning to those who are still struggling to allow their intuition to be their primary guide through life. Sometimes our tales are of greatness, and sometimes of woe. As you have come to know we do not spare the truth to save the story.

3.Benllech dolmen (Megalithic)

I knew where the stones were even before I parked. Yes, I had studied a map as best I could to get a feel for their location, but this was the now familiar extra-sensory feel which has all the feel of a magnet being positioned at a certain point around the head. I simply had to face into the magnetic stream to let it position my gaze in the right direction. “Simply” I say, as though it were the easiest and most natural thing in the world – which it is. But there’s the trick – to let it happen.

Having located the general direction I began to pick apart the clues in the surroundings – a footpath sign, a track through a field over a stile, a gateway without a gate. As I crossed a field my gaze was taken by a startled hare that was out in the dew-laden field whose morning misty veil had only just lifted to reveal a pleasanter day that had been forecast. The hare and I observed each other, both our senses feeling for warning signs before retreating into cover. Our precedence does us no favours among the timid.

I noted the path across the field, and then spotted one up through the gorse. I decided to follow my rational sense. There was a prostrate footpath sign and my rational brain worked out that it could only be indicating the path across the field given the configuration of pointers. I went the way I had been instructed, yet hankered after the gorse path, looking back at it longingly, whilst my rational brain began to assess the possible ways beyond the field, scanning for the continuation of the decided path. After fifteen minutes of searching atop the field I didn’t find the dolmen and had to go back to the fallen sign. Then my intuition told me again that the dolmen was not far along the smaller path through the gorse. This time I followed my intuition and within two minutes I had found the dolmen nestled within a clump of bushes and not obvious at all. Yet I walked straight to it when I switched off my ‘primary senses’ in favour of my primitive ones.

I asked the dowsing rods if the site was energetically active? YES. Could I do work here? YES. As I began to prepare for a ritual by getting some incense out and lighting it I had another intuitive feeling, so I asked the dowsing rods was I going to be interrupted during the ritual? YES! I decided to slightly change me plans to accommodate this. I began to dowse around to find out which energies were in the area. I found one male and one female energy centre inside the dolmen. I was directed to sit at the female centre. I knew this already somehow – both its position and orientation. I had felt its presence by tuning my mind into the frequency of the energy I wished to find. It had shown itself to me as a feeling of an invisible vortex being in the periphery of my sight. I knew its nature even though I couldn’t actually see it.

I followed the lines I had dowsed = the male and the female – to their sources. The male energy came from an elder tree right next to the dolmen. The female line came from a hawthorn tree some fifteen feet away. As I began to think about wrapping up the dowsing a seagull flew in figures of eight above me squawking wildly. I reasoned that it was probably warning me to stay away from it’s nest. It was, however, most insistent even though I was not moving anywhere. I decided to follow it. It led me away further into the bushes along a well-used path – cawing occasionally in a less insistent voice – a confirmatory voice. “That’s right, this way” it seemed to say. At a 90 degree bend in the path the seagull circled squawking noisily in a tight circle above me. I looked up from my dowsing rods to see them pointing off to one side at a large stone that had been used to prop up a fence post. I dowsed it and found it was a strong female energy emitter. The seagull flew back towards the dolmen at this point, singing in a seagull shanty. Something else to show me, I mused? I followed the line out of the stone. It headed back to the dolmen.

I followed the line all the way back to within sight of the dolmen’s slanted stones when the female line went around the dolmen site – call it the periphery of the site’s aura – at a distance of some twenty five feet. Once I had fought my way through the bushes to discover its total circumference the gull suddenly stopped and flew off! A sure sign that I had found what I had been invited to find. My mind turned to thoughts of how this site might be used by a neo-shamanic druid with no particular purpose.

Let them pass, sir, let them pass!

I secured the boundaries of the site using the female perimeter line, washing it with intent and preventing intrusion by unwanted or unhelpful energies or people. I arranged my crystals – four elemental crystals – to coincide with the cardinal points. I let the crystals form an energetic shape that would attract the elemental energies – they formed a simple cross. Some incense was lit to clear and prepare the air for meditation. I stood at the entrance to the dolmen, letting its acoustic properties become my earphone as I awaited the “interruption” that I had been foretold would happen. Suddenly I could hear voices and the hammer of hooves slowly plodding. A troupe of small ponies and riders appeared moments later on one of the paths close to the dolmen. After saying hello and letting them pass I was on my own. At last!

Then I went into the dolmen and asked the Spirit Of Place if it was permissible for me to draw a circle. I got a positive response (slight breath of wind in my face) so I created a druid circle in which to work. Once secured and sealed, I began to ask the Spirit Of Place  for some information about my healing quest.

The information I got was simply this – should I continue learning healing, or do something else? Learn healing. How should I progress with this? A picture of turquoise appeared. Only that. I should concentrate on learning about the turquoise healing frequency and master it. To me this frequency is associated with divine energy and healing from the heart or with love.

This was enough for me, and I said my farewells, leaving a posy of gently tied wild flowers wrapped around a white feather that I had brought from Glastonbury. This was my Lammas gift – a symbol of the abundance of Nature at this time of the year, and respectfully asking the permission of the plant spirits to use these specimens, saying how much I appreciated the beauty of Nature’s gifts. I did each pluck of the stems with loving care in the name of The Goddess and in tribute. With this simple decomposable posy I marked the passing of one energy season to another – of the wane of summer and the waxing of autumn. I acknowledged the energy balance begin to shift towards decay. I noticed the fallen leaves and the yellowing leaves at the base of shrubs and trees. I felt the first afternoon chill lay upon the island stronghold of the druids and I felt like I was with them across all senses of time, marking the things they had marked but in my own way

This was new tradition. Remembered or imagined, I was making it real and present.

Gwas.

In this post I am going to tell you about the single most powerful and fascinating true story of some work I did with a healer friend as we worked on resolving a long-standing energy problem at a sacred site in Cheshire. Every word is true and as it happened. I think you will find it a good example of earth energy healing, a telepathic incident, and also a curious tale of an encounter with a dark energy form.

I have talked many times with my friend Michael about energy healing. Sometimes he talks about me getting involved in healing, with the presumption that this means people. Sometimes I talk to him about healing, with the presumption that I mean earth energy healing. Sometimes we are on the same wavelength. One evening I went to see Michael in Congleton and I felt like it was the culmination of a series of events that were bringing our wavelengths together.

Michael barely had time to say hello before I was asking whether he could accompany me on a special journey to a local site. He didn’t need much persuading, and in a few moments we were heading off to The Bridestones – a site that Michael lives close to but which he had never visited close up (he has passed by on many occasions). He said he never felt that there was anything there for him to go for. I understood that feeling, for it is exactly the same feeling that Kal has about the site – a distaste for it.

As we drove the few miles out of town I explained how I had come to choose this site. I had been doing a tarot reading about where I should take my healing work and it had suggested I would work with someone who was already skilled in healing. Well, I only knew one person who fitted that bill! Then the cards suggested earth energy healing, and I began to wonder where Michael would fit into this particular picture, as he was a healer of people. He responded that actually he had been receiving information telling him that he would be doing more earth energy healing soon. Looks like I turned up at the right point then?

Finally, I explained how I had found the site by dowsing questions. After going through a list of “North/South of Britain”, “East/West”, type of questioning I began to narrow it down to specific counties, and then I could begin to narrow the search down by asking whether it’s a site I have visited before. When the answer came back that it was a known site I only had to go through a list of the sites in that county, and soon I had my answer -  The Bridestones. I knew instantly that the choice of Michael by the tarot cards was perfect – he had local knowledge, and healing abilities. It was a perfect match and it felt right.

So, we visited The Bridestones on a sunny evening in late July, just as the sun was moving towards the horizon and the shadows growing long. Here is the tale of our epic work at this site.

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The Broceliande Forest is a legendary place, like Avalon, whose exact whereabouts are uncertain. These days it is considered by some to be situated in the Paimpont Forest in Ile-et-Vilaine in Brittany. Having visited this forest in 2009 to see Merlin’s Tomb, I decided that we ought to look at another of the parts of the forest this time. So, having visited the town of Paimpont for inspiration we decided to head for the Val Sans Retour (The Valley of No Return), which seemed to contain some interestingly-named attractions – not least of which was the Golden Tree, and a couple of megalithic sites.

Introduction to the Valley of No Return

Our starting point for a walk in the summer sun was the village of Trehorenteuc. We knew that we were probably in for an interesting time when we found that many of the houses and local shops were decorated with murals with a woodland and fairy theme, or were named after characters from the Arthurian mythology – especially Merlin. This bade well. We parked and picnicked at the tourist information office (which is alongside a church reputed to be a resting place for the Holy Grail, no less) and then headed out of the village on foot to the start of the forest paths.

A welcome sign for druids

Once inside the woodland we were shielded from the intense heat, but you could see that the forest was usually flowing with streams, but that the lack of rainfall over the last few months had dried up all the shallower beds so that it was now possible to walk along their course from the village right up into the hills above. You could tell that in Autumn or Winter some river-hopping would be required at some points in order to make your way deep into the forest.

As we entered the forest we felt like we had crossed some kind of magical threshold, and that from now on things would get a little stranger. That’s exactly what happened.

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