Reblogged from Journey to Ambeth:

This is the continued account of my weekend away with The Silent Eye. Please click here for part one, part two and part three.
We all gathered around the stone, everyone agreeing that it looked very similar to a sundial. Sue then told us that excavation had shown the stone was deliberately placed and propped at this angle, with one side staying dark throughout the northern Winter, as though to mark the length of the season. We were invited to look at the stone from all angles, to find the ‘devil’s face’ (I think I caught it in the photo below), and also to explore the outer rings of stones, half hidden in the grass, that encircled the clearing. There were at least two rings, if not three, and I headed straight through to the edge, standing in the shade of a silver birch as I marked the low grey shapes curving in both directions.

Then we regrouped around the central stone, and a meditation took place. It was muggy, the humidity bringing midges out to torment us, but somehow we all managed to focus.
…as she closed her eyes she could feel the stone as a warm presence, all gentle enfolding heat like a hug, or a warm fire on a cold day. Midges danced along her skin but didn’t bite, as she fought to ignore their tickling touch and focus on the meditation. But it didn’t really matter.
‘All is well. You are welcome here.’
She knew she was supposed to be thinking about the ancestors, or time, or something, but instead all she could focus on was the warmth, the feeling of being greeted. Of being acknowledged. As though after the suffering on the cliff edge the stone wanted, somehow, to offer comfort. Her nausea subsided, and she felt a pull from behind her, as though she had to go towards the large bank of bracken. Something was there…
Continue reading Helen’s account here.



























lovely snap….
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Thank you for sharing, Sue 🙂
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Thanks for writing them, Helen… it means a good deal to hear your perspective.
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Thanks, Sue – I’m really glad 🙂 The next instalment is almost done – funnily, I took hardly any photos at Barbrook, either.
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We never take photographs in ritual… and for all we were out in the landscape, we were in ‘that’ place. We had to go back after the weekend to get pictures. We never seem to take many up there.
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Yes – it was probably the last thing on my mind at that moment. That makes a lot of sense.
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It is easy to think of a sacred place as having a structure, like church or temple, but they are only smallsymbolic representations of what came before them. The real sacred space is within.
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So beautiful, and so true 🙂
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🙂
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