Several years ago I was invited to write an article concerning Megaliths and Spirituality for an embryonic Journal of Contemplative Spirituality, The Still Voice. Sadly, it folded before it got going, leaving me with this article. I do not consider it fully polished, but it remains a considerable personal reflection of my own spiritual angle(s) on ancient sites. If you wish to explore the contemplative dynamic of megaliths, please read on. This is an original article, to which I retain copyright.
If you have ever visited a standing stone or two, it is likely you may have sensed something special. The megalith has been there for millennia, standing as a tacit witness to the procession of people over the centuries who have passed its way. It has been a focus of interest for a variety of reasons, but has it really been so silent?
There are many tangents one could explore in considering ‘megalithomania’. Earth mysteries and the paranormal can make for absorbing pursuits. While acknowledging for many these aspects make for important if not central tenets of their interest; for the purpose of this exploration, the focus is on the qualities of the stones in relating to their sacredness and encountering the voice of the Divine.
As for those who visit the stones, a wide cross section of faiths (and those of none) do so. A poll on the Megalithic Portal website recorded nearly a thousand votes, giving an indication of the spirituality of those who frequent megalithic places. Unsurprisingly, the neo-Pagan spectrum took the largest group with nearly 50%; atheists took the next largest group at 20.54%, Christian 18.72%, agnostic 5.57%, Buddhist 2.83%, Muslim & Hindu each receiving 1.21%, and Jewish 0.61%. It is clear that the stones do not belong to a particular faith group – they belong to whosoever seeks them, for whatever reason.
Many years ago, I experienced Down Tor Stone Circle and Row on Dartmoor; a remote, powerful location. This gave birth to a latent, gestating interest in megaliths, putting these special locations firmly within my spirit and psyche as objects of fascination, as places of renewal; and where I sometimes seek to hear from their stillness.
Some may find the idea of the stones speaking somewhat laughable. However, if they have engaged in contemplation in a natural environment, the concept of the Divine speaking in and through that environment should be nothing strange. The stones’ still and sometimes dynamic voice can be heard. A sense of connection, of relationship with the Divine can be felt. These old places are still empowered to impact the intellect, emotions, and spirits of the contemporary contemplatory visitor.
What is it that calls people to the stones? Cairn circles, ring cairns, stone circles, standing stones, stone rows, dolmens (also known as cromlechs, quoits or burial chambers) and other various nomenclature of lithic monuments attract numerous visitors. One might think that a stone is a stone. That is not so; M. Scott Peck remarks that “…each site has a different flavor, an atmosphere all its own. So it is with dolmens and other megalithic monuments. Some might feel that once they’ve seen one great, hoary prehistoric stone, they’ve seen them all. Not so for us. No two stones are alike. And when you add in factors of their arrangement, their location in the landscape, and even the weather, each site is memorable in its own way.” (1)
They are often removed from obvious modern settings, and give a sense of entrance into space set aside for a specific use – i.e. sacred; usually relating to the Divine, but not necessarily so. Like places of worship, gardens of remembrance, or graveyards (for in effect and actuality, that is what many megaliths are), they give a sense where something ‘other’ meets our usual life. Somewhere people come to invest their thought, time, feeling, and to remember. A place where the quiet noises that we so easily miss - the soft footsteps, the birds, the insects, the wind – these can be heard with an unfamiliar yet comforting volume. The stones can help shape your very being.
Sometimes the Divine may be revealed through the stones without any seeking; the need within will be met without an explicit request. This is how I first experienced stones, and indeed many others too; “…you tend to find what you need - which is not necessarily what you want.” (2)
Just before becoming switched on to stones, I was at theological college, at a place of deep questioning, spiritual emptiness, and an increasing flirtation with ideas and expressions seen as ‘New Age’ or ‘Pagan’ to my peers – and to be treated with the utmost suspicion as satanically inspired counterfeit spiritualities.
I was also rather impassioned by a school of thought called “Process Theology”. This sees God as existing in two opposite poles – one aspect of God which is completely ‘other than’; the all powerful, all knowing Deity not to be confused with creation. The opposite pole is the Divine also existing in a radically immanent sphere – being bound up with and participating in every process, and therefore experiencing the lives and deaths of everything on an inanimate, animate, human, personal, global, and universal scale. Joined with the understanding of the Person of Christ as that of the Greek concept of the Logos; the very principle which holds all things together (as seen in John 1:1), this positive incorporation of pain, struggle, periods of personal darkness, and just humdrum daily life into a meaningful expression give me a God whom I can relate to.
Up to then, I had been a very effusive Christian for a number of years, involved with Evangelical and Pentecostal churches, and very much a Biblical literalist. I was no stranger to ‘full on’ Charismatic worship - the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, and “Toronto Blessing” style phenomena were my forte. Then came an opportunity.
It was to spend a weekend with a group of Christian friends, some of whom I had not seen in a while, and had had strained relationships with for a number of years. At the last minute I decided to go. The combination of many strands in my life set the stage for a paradigm shift in my spirituality which I had not anticipated.
The weekend dawned warm and cloudless. The decision was taken to camp on Dartmoor at short notice, and while setting up camp late in the day, numerous hurtful actions came to a head, leaving me feeling actively rejected. Spying some stones not far distant, I set off to watch the sunset from them. As the sun went down against the backdrop of the stones, I sensed an overwhelming connection with them, and also the landscape, the sun, and even the stars as they came out of the deepening blue into black sky. Though Christian ‘friends’ may reject me, the Divine aspect in this holy location, the holy presence manifesting itself powerfully, was accepting me. I resolved to return there early the next morning.
I did so, and found the place alive. Unseen energy imbibed the air with a magical ambience. No one else up. No one for miles. Myself, the stones, and a warm summer morning. In the middle of nowhere, with the young day pregnant with meaning and life. The Divine Still Voice was speaking powerfully of acceptance, of connection, and interconnection. I returned from that weekend pushed in a new spiritual direction and expression. It proves something we need to bear in mind when we spend time at these sites; the contemplative catalyst to hearing the Still Voice is carried within those who visit them - their situations, hopes, desires, and feelings.
Many visit stones for the same reasons as visiting any place of worship. To be still, find solace, and hear that Still Voice more clearly. Some may contend that the voice heard could be that of various spirits – fairies, wights, or even the local deity. Others will perceive God speaking through the stones and the natural environment. Whatever theology (or even psychology) is used to articulate the experience of stones, their stillness combined with their prehistoric age perhaps suggests a wisdom waiting to be imparted to those who have ears to hear.
To hear the Divine voice, I need to grasp the sense of place, and the relation of the stone with its environment. I recognise that the stone is within the context of creation. Those who built it placed it at that location for a reason, as part of a relationship with other features – such as other stones and burial monuments, hilltops near and far, and astronomical events at given times. The whole landscape becomes interconnected, invested with ancient meaning.
The Greeks had two words for place; chora and topos. Topos relates strictly to the geographical location, i.e. what we term as topography. Chora is very different. This is a sense of ‘mythic presence’, a place of experience. (3) Another relevant word, from Latin is ‘Numen’ (meaning Divine will, power, divinity), from which the words numinous and numinosity derive. This is an other-worldly characteristic about a place, communicating the Divine in a subtle, suggestive way. Ancient sites are often laden with numinosity – a combination of something more than just their discernable characteristics.
Then there is the ‘genius loci’, the spirit of place; whether one interprets this as a particular intelligence in a location, or just the ambience conveyed, perceiving this helps sense the immanence of holy ground. Paul Devereux, a noted and level-headed Earth Mysteries researcher has much to say on approaching ancient sites: “Adjust your mental frame so that you encounter the site as if it was a living, sentient being. I cannot emphasize this enough, for doing this allows the place to tell you its story.” (4)
The success of stories in literature and cinema is testimony to the age-old power of narrative to enchant, inform and transform. The company of the characters with whom we travel in a story can certainly affect our own lives. Researching also reveals the stones’ story. Many were not built immediately into the monument we perceive today. Within a few generations of construction, something once seen as complete was no longer so. Stonehenge, in its various phases, was not one long project consisting of continual development. It was not the progression of one linear idea. These phases were added by successive generations, with each redevelopment being seen as ‘it’, and the site altered as desire, need, or belief dictated. Also consider the later story of the site. Learn about the stones' geology, where they were quarried from, significant events for the stones and their landscape and environment, and even the folklore. As one pieces together the information, the stones’ story is woven.
Comprehending the stones’ wider relationship with other features, the landscape and even the heavens, serves as a mirror for reflecting on ourselves. Often we may feel fragmented, in need of re-integration, and gaining perspective on where we are in life, in relationships, in ourselves, and indeed, in the world and cosmos. The tool of ancient stones within a perceptibly sacred landscape weaves a mystical thread for helping pull things together that ought not to be apart. They give a sense of continuity with the past, linking to the ages gone, yet firmly grounding the spirit in the here and now.
Focus on what they are. They are standing stones. That is it. They have a primeval stillness able to interact with the human mind and intellect; a numinous immobility which still inspires and connects to the Divine for many visitors today. In some ways they are ‘Beings’ as all they ‘do’, at a reductionist level, is stand there. They are not doing anything. So we need to learn to be Human Beings, not Human Doings. Doing is an important and inevitable part of our existence, but there are times when we need to ‘be’, just like the stones.
Sometimes entering a megalithic place gives a sensation of stepping from noise into a place that is in the world, but removed from it. Complete stillness. Learn to perceive that stepping over a threshold into a stone circle, or biding in the presence of a megalith, is to enter space set aside for a specific function. Sacred space, for millennia. It has developed an aura of sacredness, for “Whenever a spot has been used for religious purposes, no matter what religion, it becomes hallowed ground after a century or two.” (5)
When at stones, be aware that the air you breathe passes around these stones, and maybe even through them, that the land you walk on, near and far, is the land the stones are rooted in. The animals, plants, insects, the sky, and planetary bodies – are all sharing and connected from one spot. All of these are part of a greater whole, and from a focus on the stones, a voice of oneness and interconnectedness can be heard.
I like to find somewhere that I can return to with regularity at different times of the year; perhaps on key dates relating to the movement of the sun or moon. I like to visit in different weather conditions – heat, freezing cold, fog, and driving rain (obviously being mindful of health and safety matters). Even though the conditions of the visit differ, the stone and all it relates to remain the same, and yet new facets are revealed, new moods experienced.
No megalith is an island. It has been placed there in relationship to many other things, to a greater whole. Become aware of the boundaries of a site; physical features near and far, other ancient places (look for cairns, barrows and more on maps), hills, work out where the sun might rise at a given time of year. Getting to grips with their environs will enable the voice of the Divine to be heard through their stillness.
A stone circle I like to frequent in Derbyshire is Nine Stones Close, also known as the Grey Ladies, which are said to dance at midnight and midday! The largest stones in the county, each with a unique shape, sit in a group of four in a field. To be here, back resting on a stone, is to be in comfort. It is a friendly place to be, with other ancient monuments nearby. A significant lunar alignment also happens with Robin Hood’s Stride, a large natural rock outcrop a short way south. (6)
The Bradstone, another Derbyshire megalith, sits to the west of the town of Wirksworth. I have been fortunate to spend a few hours here, over many visits. This tall, fossil ridden, now solitary stone sits with prominent views to the south, and has a midwinter solsticial alignment where the sun rises at the edge of a hill to the south east. I have observed midwinter sunrise here, as well as Imbolc sunset, and others on less significant dates. It comes across as a powerful location, albeit lonely and somewhat melancholy.
Mitchell’s Fold, Shropshire’s best-known stone circle, sits in a cluster of ancient sites, all now ruined to varying degrees. On a ridge, with the brooding presence of Corndon Hill to the south, and spectacular views west into Powys, it has a sense of forgotten majesty about it. Having fallen in love with the county of Shropshire in the last few years, this is a site that says to me “get to know me better”; and having been there at midwinter solstice, and midsummer solstice two years ago, and invested my desires in a personal, symbolic ritual, I intend to return at other times to learn more. A stone circle less than two miles away from there is the Hoarstones; this has a far more familial feel, even on a snowy midwinter solstice eve! A low ring of many stones in a boggy field is a surprising place to feel at home.
A site visited briefly a few summers ago was the well-known Avebury, which as most know, sits in a spectacular landscape rich with ancient monuments. The sheer scale of the stones, and indeed the whole place, gave a sense of connection with something beyond the physical. Perhaps that is why it draws so many, and why, when a few hours earlier our journey changed to take in this World Heritage Site, I suddenly felt like I was on a pilgrimage.
The sad part of visiting special places is having to leave them. Parting these moments of sunshine pulls the heart and forces a sigh, but as has been said “all sunshine makes a desert.” The quality of stones, or indeed of any special place, is that it is possible to ‘be there’, even when you are not there in person. When about the business of everyday life, closing your eyes or just casting your memory back can bring that place to you in the here and now. It will bring something of the sacredness of that place, and carry it with you. (7)
Just one word of caution. Sometimes you may pick up on something negative at an ancient site. Do as your instinct tells you. You will learn. If you start feeling oppressed, tired, or unhappy with a location, do not spend more time there than necessary.
Also, a word of exhortation. Meditate at sites, yes, but in a way respectful to the stones, their environment, and those who will visit after you. The ASLaN Sacred Sites Charter encompasses such issues. Maybe take an empty carrier bag with you too – to tidy up and help set an example. On several occasions I have taken away a bag filled with rubbish.
Contemplation, I feel, should be able to make a discernable difference to one’s life, and be a catalyst for action. Out of ‘being’ comes ‘doing’. It is not just a mellow, self-indulgent spaced-out trip, as enjoyable as that might be. Taking from the spirit of these places is beneficial indeed, but giving back to that site in a respectful demeanour, and using freely what has freely been imparted are important principles.
Some feel that stones are a vocation. I am inclined to agree. Wherever I go now, I feel the need to visit the old stones nearby. I have found it true that “…they wake up something within ourselves that draws us to the sacred places… it is not so much that we are going looking for them, but that they are summoning us.” (8) The Stillness of the Stones can speak volumes. As Devereux writes, “…if the old places call to you, my advice is that you would do well to listen.”(9)
Notes
(1) Peck, M. Scott In Search of Stones Pocket Books 1997, 57.
(2) Richardson, Alan Spirits of the Stones Virgin Publishing Ltd, 2001, 247.
(3) Devereux, Paul Earth Mysteries Piatkus Books, 1999, 60-61.
(4) Devereux, 63
(5) Peck, 366
(6) Burl, Aubrey A Guide to the Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press, 1995, 53-54.
(7) Devereux offers some excellent ways to help carry the presence of stones when being there in person is not possible. See pages 70-72, 80-81.
(8) Richardson, 26.
(9) Devereux, 20.
Not referred to, but very influential, and much recommended is:
Peck, Chris Between Earth & Heaven Arthur James, 1997
