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Gaian Rants | ||||||||||
Waking Up to the Spirit of Place | ||||||||||
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The theme running through this issue is Spirit of Place. I imagine most readers of Gaian Voices have had the experience of walking in the woods or fields or by a river or lake or the ocean and coming across a place that feels somehow different. Perhaps it is especially beautiful and that’s what drew your attention. Or maybe there’s a huge, ancient tree or a circle of trees, or a unique rock formation or maybe it’s the quality of light or simply a sense of peace that sets the place apart. Regardless, what you are experiencing is the spirit of place and it only feels right to stop and take a moment, or several, to absorb the energy and honor it. The Earth speaks in many languages. Our Earth-based ancestors — and we all had them at some point in history — were able to understand the language of their particular place. They entered into relationship with the spirits of the land, performed ceremonies and rituals in honor of these spirits to thank them, to make amends when necessary, to pray for health, enough food, whatever. Unique human cultures and languages evolved, direct expressions of the places in which people lived. Everything came down to the Earth. Even today in our technological, market-based, greed-driven culture, the place we live is what effects us every day. If we’re in the wrong place, energetically, we can feel listless, discontent, even unwell. I’m a mountain person and I can’t imagine living some place flat. And I feel better, more alive, here in the White Mountains than I did in the Green Mountains of Vermont. I think the granite is a big factor, and the energy of the mountains themselves. The energy of a place shapes the people who live there in obvious and subtle ways. This was brought home to me recently during a conversation Colin and I were having about the possibility of creating a dark room somewhere in the house so he could develop B&W photos. Then he wondered outloud if he would notice any differences in the process because of the differences between our water and the water in Rockport, ME. He told me how his teacher at Rockport College had originated a unique development process that could only be replicated in Savannah, GA, (where he studied) because of the water. It struck me that photography in its most artistic forms is a place-based art, and not just because places lend themselves to being photographed. Too often the unique spirit of a place is buried under layers of tar and concrete, violated by the ravages of industrial devastation, or ignored by the sameness of corporate development. Places, like people, can be wounded, can feel pain - - and like people they can also be healed. Wolf’s article in this issue, “Sacred Covenants”, tells the story of his home, the Sweet Medicine Sanctuary, and how love and commitment have made healing possible. It is true that while all the Earth is sacred, some places are more sacred than others. For example, the ley line maps of Glastonbury, England, are amazing. This is the land of Avalon, the site of the Tor and the Chalice Well (the Blood Spring in The Mists of Avalon). Even today Glastonbury is a holy place for Pagans and Christians alike. Stonehenge is a relatively short distance away and Avebury, a bit farther. Energy leys connect all these sacred sites in intricate ways I can’t begin to understand. Sig Lonegren, a geomancer and former resident of Vermont now living and practicing in Glastonbury, explains, “A power center is a place where domes and primary water and energy leys come together. They are where the yin and the yang, the female and male intersect.” According to Sig, primary water is one of the basic elements of sacred space. It is “created down in our Mom’s belly as a byproduct of various chemical reactions. Then it is forced under great pressure towards the surface of the Earth, but most of the time it never gets there. Instead it comes up through a neck which dowsers in the U.S. call a dome, or a blind spring in Britain. When it reaches an impermeable layer of rock or clay the water goes out as veins at different depths. It is this water that is drawn to sacred places. Occasionally a vein of primary water does reach the surface. These places are considered places of healing and contemplation. The water from the Chalice Well here in Glastonbury, for instance, is primary water. It has never run dry, even in droughts, and the temperature and flow are constant year round. Chalice Well water is chalybeate in nature — rich in iron — which is why it was called the Blood Spring in ancient times.” Were ancient people aware of energy leys and primary water? Sig feels that John Michell’s theory, discussed in his book Earth Spirit, has merit. When we were hunter/gatherer’s following the animals from the valleys up into the mountains on a seasonal cycle, we were naturally at power places when they were at their hottest point. It wasn’t something we had to think about. You could say Gaia led us to the right places at the right times. “Sacred sites”, Sig explains, “are not ‘hot’ or at their peak all the time. It’s a cyclical thing, and this is where astrology and geomancy come together. For instance, Stonehenge is hottest on the summer solstice sunrise.” When we became farmers and settled in the valleys we needed to work with the energy centers where we were, and find ways to enhance the Earth energies when they weren’t at their peak. Sig feels this is when geomancy was born. “There does seem to be a solid connection between farming and the first permanent temples built on sacred space,” Sig observes. “And there’s certainly evidence that culture after culture built on the same places. So power places can be enhanced or even created over time when people work consciously with the Earth energies”. Sig has seen this phenomenon in the construction of labyrinths, which he calls “single-pathed magical tools”. If you put it in the best place you can find given the limitations of the space, he told me, energy will come to it. Rob Roy, a builder of stone circles (and circular cord wood homes) has come to the same conclusion. (See interview ). What attracts the energy? Patting the ground, Sig smiles, “Well, we’re working with a living being who’s real open to communication.” Ah, yes! In these troubling times it’s easy to give in to despair, to feel that no matter what we do, we’re doomed. I fight this all the time. It’s the simple things that give me hope: the hummingbirds that visit my garden, the smell of phlox, baby foxgloves that will bloom next year, the wind in the pines, the glitter of mica in sand. You can build a stone circle or labyrinth if the idea excites you. The important thing is to connect with the spirit of the land in ways that feel right, starting in your own backyard. “Get to know Mom”, as Sig would say, and get ready for an adventure that will energize and invigorate. When we wake up to the spirit of place we wake up to Gaia -- and to hope. | ||||||||||
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