Reflections on Stone – Page 2

Seeing Energy: an Encounter with Ley Lines

Stones for me had always been alive – but I had yet to feel the connecting energy that linked them. It was while learning to dowse at Avebury Henge that I first began to ‘see’ energy. And became acquainted with ley lines.

The rods in my hands moved as I ran them slowly up the face of a stone, far enough away from it that the rods didn’t connect. And they moved at very specific points, which we were told were vibrational energy points the stone was giving off, and that these points could also be read by other more sophisticated machinery.

Avebury Henge also happens to be on a ley line – energetic lines of energy that criss cross the Earth. In the United Kingdom, the ley lines are referred to as Michael and Mary lines. We walked in a line across one and felt the edges of the energy line; demonstrated quite clearly by the moving rods. I closed my eyes and saw orange lines of energy – some bits closer to being white – like blurred neon signs in a timelapsed photograph. And opened them to see where I’d been looking was part of the ley line.

Later that week, we returned to Avebury and walked to the top of Windmill Hill through some fields. I closed my eyes, and saw the orange-white energy lines – two of them – one curving away from me through the mounds. I was surprised that I could see it and it awoke something within me. I felt connected somehow to these lines of energy – like they were part of my blood, part of my heritage.

Sacred Places of Stone

Stone and sacred spaces just seem to go together for me. Whether it be stone circles, tombs or natural stone formations, there is something about being surrounded by stone that just raises my consciousness. When I am touching stone, I feel grounded and at peace and my worries flow away. I feel at home and connected to this place we call Earth.

Being at St Nectan’s Glen was an amazing experience because the evidence that this wonderful place was special to so many other people surrounded you. And at the same time in front of you and all around you was this wondrous cathedral of natural stone. In the middle of this place was a beautiful waterfall that flowed through a naturally formed circle.

The stone walls were of slate, forming natural shelves that were covered in small candles and other offerings; on the larger shelves, especially in the middle of the stream; were stones in tall pillars, one on top of the other. The trees were covered in colourful ribbons and other offerings, with one having coins pressed into its bark.

I found myself raising up, echoing off the stones that surrounded me as I stood on stepping stones to see the full glory of the waterfall; buoyed up by the love and peace that the others had placed in trust within the stone.

Offerings; St Nectan's Glen, 2010 — Offerings; St Nectan’s Glen, 2010

Exploring how landscape feels

Bob explained to me as we were walking around sacred landscapes that it was important to get to know a place. To introduce your self to it and allow it to introduce itself to you. That was when I began to realise that place could be sentient; could communicate and feel. Whether it is the spirits of place or the landscape itself I think depends a lot on what you believe. Perhaps they are one and the same.

I didn’t know how to introduce myself at first. Bob laughed at my early attempts, but told me it was intention more than words and it was important to talk to the landscape in the same way it spoke to me if I wanted it to understand me. So I would talk and send images and feelings at the same time because that tended to be the kind of thing I received when talking with stone. Images of what it is to be human; of me and where I was from; a little of how I felt. Then to open and see what images and feelings came through.

Walking into Weyland Smithy for the first time felt very special. I was drawn to it and could feel it calling out. It was a very warm place; lived in and living. Unlike the West Kennet Long Barrow, which I had visited not long before and which had felt abandoned and cold. Perhaps the difference was because Weyland Smithy had been reclaimed by the living in some way where as West Kennet Long Barrow was for the dead. Perhaps for other reasons. My feet connected with earth and I felt my roots go down with every step. I felt welcomed and happy.

When communing with specific stones, I was shown yellow rectangles and pink looped lines and a blue-green spiral as I walked among them. The images came very easily as if the stones were eager to communicate with someone willing to listen to them. Similar types of stones had similar shapes and colours, which I found to be very interesting and thought was linked to their purpose. Bob smiled and said nothing.

Communing with Stone: My first encounter

A standing stone of the Hurlers stone circle; Bodmin Moor, 2010

I fell in love with stone from when I first set foot in Cornwall and it felt like home. I wanted to approach the stone: to feel it and get to know it: to communicate with it. But I didn’t know how and I guess I was a little afraid of looking ridiculous. So, I took a deep breath, walked up to the stone in front of me, and put my hands on its rough surface as if I did it all the time. ‘What are you doing?’ Bob laughed from behind me. I answered that I was was ‘communing with stone’ and he laughed even more. ‘In that case, you’re doing it wrong’ he said, showing me how I should be standing. Straight back, flat feet, arms at 90 degrees, and palms flat on the surface – otherwise the energy can get trapped inside, which can be bad. So I did. And it was amazing.

I saw an inrush of images, colours, shapes, way too fast for me to make much of (especially considering I had secretly thought I’d probably not see very much at all). Amazing, but way too much. I felt Bob come closer and touch my hair. ‘If it’s too much, just focus on one thing’ he said. And I chose shapes. Some came with colours, some were in shades of black and white, but every stone I communed with at the Hurlers had a unique shape. One came up in the form of a rodent with bulging eyes. Another was very like a millipede. Some were more like jagged or wavy lines than shapes. But for the first time I felt like I belonged in the pagan community – that I wasn’t deluding myself into believing what wasn’t real.

The stones were warm and welcoming, even if their surface was cold. And it felt wonderful to see the energies of the stones in all their vibrancy. Just a taste of what was to come, but it was enough and I was completely hooked!

© AM Hunter and Green and Grey: Reflections on Stone, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to AM Hunter and Green and Grey: Reflections on Stone with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.