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And all that remains now…
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Is to bring it back home…
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And fill in the gaps…
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Of which there are many…
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Continued from Part One
As the group walk through the arched entranceway to the interior of the castle, a new feeling emerges: one of ‘being in it, together’. The transition from outer to inner space of the newly considered ‘organism’ of the castle brings with it other changes of perspective. One of these is that a process – that of the weekend, itself, has begun.
One of the weekend’s companions, new to what the Silent Eye does, asks a question:
“Is this – she points to the entire interior of the walled space – to be looked at as a representation of life, and the possibilities of spiritual work within that life?”
The answer is unhesitating. “For the purposes of this weekend, we are using several of the Northumberland Castles to be exactly that.” He pauses, “So, this, as the beginning, is the place where the elements of that search, that quest, begin to work towards the goal.”
The new companion considers this. “So, what is our start point? What is the core idea that powers the rest?”
Its a great question. The man looks around him, seeking, not inspiration, for he has begun such discussions many times, but the spirit of the moment. Then he smiles, as an image forms in his mind…
“This is a medieval castle; imagine a shield…”
The new companion is listening. Alert and as keyed into the moment as the group leader. She waits… silent and attentive.
“A shield that belongs to you – that has grown to defend you.” He uses his fingers to draw a circle in the air, and then lets the hand fall and draws it down towards the ground, describing an outline around the group that mirrors the interior shape of the castle.
“So the castle perimeter – the walls – is the shield?” asks the companion. “But why call it a shield. Wouldn’t ‘castle wall’ have been sufficient?”
“It would,” the man answers. “but the image of a shield is more useful as a symbol of something that belongs to you.”
“My shield, then…”
“Exactly so. A deeply personal object, one you have crafted and groomed for all of your life.”
She’s getting into this. “A shield alone… I don’t have a matching sword?”
She smiles, as does he. “We’ll get to swords, later. One symbol at once – your shield, alone, took a very long time to make…”
“It defends me, this shield?”
“Look around you – don’t you feel defended? Or would have in the days when this was a functioning structure?”
“Yes,” she hesitates, clutching a the edge of a thought, an important one. “But it’s sad, too.”
“Why sad?” his eyes flash in the morning sun. The smile is one of deep encouragement.
“Because it cuts me off from all that beautiful world, outside…”
Everyone in the group is silent – as though the words of a very important prayer or salutation have just been whispered.
“Yes,” he says, softly. “It does, but it keeps you alive…”
The sadness of her realisation has affected her voice. “Must it be that way?”
“No,” he says, running with the hidden wild horses in the moment. “Which is why the shield, your personal shield, has the most beautiful outer face.”
Not wanting to dwell on the sadness, she laughs. “Tell me?” she turns to see the smiling faces of the group. “Tell me…”
“The shield, your beautiful shield, has nine powerful jewels set into its face. They defend, too, but they can be something different.”
She is laughing now. “What can they do?”
“They can be a map back out into the beautiful world.”
“Couldn’t I just turn round and make a run for it now?”
Now he is laughing. “You could… but you’d still be a servant. Wouldn’t you rather leave the castle as a King or a Queen?”
You can see she wasn’t expecting anything like this. “A King or a Queen? A shield has this power?”
“Not alone, but the jewels, and their arrangement do…”
Other parts of this series:
To be continued…
Castles of the Mind is the forthcoming September 2018 workshop of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit teaching organisation that promotes and enables the investigation of our true self, using a combination of modern spiritual psychology and traditional magical symbolism. The workshop is open to all, not just existing Companions of the Silent Eye School.
The dates are 14-16 September. The workshop will be centred on the Northumberland town of Seahouses, but will involve travel to other locations along the coast.
The Silent Eye holds four workshops per year – in April, June, September and December, mirroring the major events of the solar cycle. The April event is the main one, and is always held in Derbyshire. The other three are ‘Living Land’ or ‘walk and talk’ events such as that described above, and are held in different locations each year. The administrative cost is £50.00 per person which does not include accommodation and meals. Meals are usually taken together, in a local pub, and the costs shared.
To register your interest, or for more details email us at rivingtide@gmail.com.
©Stephen Tanham
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For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto
➰
The eyes say
there should be roaring
The ears should be
Overwhelmed
But in the mind where
Lives the observer’s finger
There is silence
A digital discovery
That
It is not there, either…
➰
©Stephen Tanham
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Approaching Avebury in this way we got to side-step the crowds.
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Most of whom had been unceremoniously penned into the Red Lion.
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But it is not about meticulous planning.
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It is about listening.
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And following ‘directives’…
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Sue continues the description of the Dorset weekend that she and Stuart created.
Leaving the church, we gathered in the little garden beside it which, so the church’s keeper of the keys would tell us, had been sold to them for the princely sum of £1, with the sole proviso that the garden be used. Beside its gate is another fragment of the old Abbey, bearing once again the symbol of St Catherine’s wheel… which seemed fairly appropriate considering what we were about to do.
The gardens are a beautiful and peaceful spot, tucked under the wing of the church. The air is fragrant with the perfume of herbs and old roses. Apples grow on carefully tended trees and there are bees and butterflies in abundance. We gathered around a small, paved square lined with benches to start the next part of our adventure.
We had been convinced to hold a workshop at Cerne Abbas because of a feeling and a series…
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Beyond the blue is something more
Where green leaves end is azure’s home
No distance fades or feathers this
Transition in the air of Life
No boundary we don’t set in stone
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Before the Green my eyes appear
Not open – grow – from matter’s heart
Creating depth with brain that knows
What it remembers, nothing more
The veil of knowing is the lie of part
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Behind the eyes there is the Eye
Made drunken by the force of green
Made distant by the ruler’s dream
Made clear and now restored:
The edge of blue; the laughing world unseen
➰
©Copyright Stephen Tanham.
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Sue with further detail about Cerne Abbas.
Crossing the land upon which the Abbey of Cerne Abbas had once stood, our party split into two groups. The more adventurous went to climb a hill. Having climbed it once before, on the hottest day in memory, and without hats or water, Stuart and I joined the more sedate party that skirts the bottom of the hill. We knew too that although the view across the Dorset hills was well worth the climb, the gentleman we had really come to see could only be viewed from a distance…or from the air.
We had come to see the Cerne Abbas Giant… for us an old friend, but for the rest of our party, this would be their first encounter with the great figure carved into the chalk. Our secondary quest, though, was for a crop circle. We had heard of one ‘in a field below the giant’ and there…
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Sue’s description of the events at the Silver Well in Cerne Abbas.
“There is an alchemy of fire and water going on within and without.”
It is early. The streets of the Dorset village of Cerne Abbas are quiet as we make our way through the hush of morning to a place of perfect peace. The churchyard attached to the old Abbey has been planted with a row of young yews, marrying Christian tradition and an older paradigm and carrying the past and the present into the future. Old stone bears carvings of angels and the abstract images of lichen and there is something very appropriate about walking through a place of the dead to a moment that marks a new beginning.
Our destination in a green temple… a grove through which a pure spring flows, sheltered by stone and with a colonnade of living trees arching overhead. These linden trees are known as the Twelve Apostle by locals. It…
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‘…A church, full bleak, and weather beaten, all alone, as it were forsaken…’
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“St Michael de Rupe?”
“St Michael the Rock.”
“I thought St Peter was supposed to be the ‘Rock’?”
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“The rock referred to here, is volcanic.”
“Nice.”
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“Though you would never know it now…”
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“…The church-tower can still serve as a beacon.”
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“Curioser and curioser…”
“Wait till we get inside, Alice.”
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A lovely post from Jan Malique.
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From Stuart.
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If Giants…
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Could construct…
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Balance-Stones…
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They would look a little like this…
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And for those still in need of perspective…
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‘TAKE A LOOK AT THESE HANDS’…
If these stone structures are produced by ‘nature’s hand’,
it may be salutory to consider ‘modern man’s hand’ in contrast,
which has, by quarrying, made a ‘bit of a mess’ of what was once
a ‘hill-fort’ possessing as much beauty as that of Carn les Boel or Carl Wark.
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Sun in Gemini 
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