Solstice of the Moon (Part 1)

Day One

The forecast wasn’t all that bad but, heading South, the signs didn’t bode well. The showers seemed to be clumping together, somewhat; and by the time everyone had gathered at the initial meeting place, the gaps between clumps were becoming fewer and shorter.

They appeared to be a hardy bunch, however, and we headed up to the first stone circle at Easter Aquhorthies. Everything seemed to ease for a while, in the car park at least, as boots were donned and sou’westers affixed. Off we trotted along the track.

As the group found their natural places in the circle, the heavens, literally, opened. Thinking it “just a shower” I pushed on…

Then the wind got up. Is that hail? … and on…

I swear that was a flurry of snow… and on…

By the time I realised that the assemblage was likely not warmed by the rather dry delivery of a bunch of “facts” and “fact-ion”, by which I intended to establish the tone of the weekend, it was too late.

My boots were sodden filled and would remain so the entire weekend.

The thing is.

I was having WAY too much fun, and learning WAY too much, even in the first few moments of trailing a large group up to the stone circle with which I am probably most familiar. The group opened up a whole new dynamic with which to explore, questions to ask (and be answered), and they were all playing along wonderfully.

You see, these places ARE group spaces. Investigating, poking around, and evaluating a stone circle alone, or with a few people, is merely an exercise in logic, science, and (so-called) pseudo-scientific thinking, and, ultimately, is a rather dry, flaccid task in exercising the brain matter. As a group space, it is all but impossible to realise the bigger picture in one sitting.

With a larger group, everything changes…

Lesson 1: “Manly men” really don’t belong here. Their big logical brains encroach too heavily into the lightness of the space. Their scent intrudes, their footsteps, hard and heavy, fall rudely in the space between the shadows, and the magic barely penetrates their armour of practical scientism. The nice thing about this group is that all the men are open-minded, open-hearted, seekers of things beyond the mere rational senses. The circle, singing, welcomes them…

Lesson 2: Nevertheless. The “places”, which “call” to them, intrigue me. The “place of power”, the “winter place”, and the “gate of closing”. Whilst, in hindsight, this is very much as it should be, at the time it felt odd that they would so readily fall into these specific places. As a “women’s” space, these places would have been taken by the “elder” women, those charged with “control”, “observation”, and “guardianship”. That it was the men who automatically gravitated to these places, despite the numerous women within the group more than capable of holding these stations, may say more about 21^st century “expected” “power” dynamic than that the women present felt incapable of holding these positions.

Lesson 3: Well, more of a confirmation requiring a larger number than I’d normally manage to muster, really. The acoustics, in this one circle, is beyond my wildest imagining. Having never had the opportunity to properly test it before, I really didn’t know what to expect. Hunkering down, wind and horizontal rain slowly filling my breeches, “Can you hear me?” is met with eager (well, I say eager – they may have hoped that I’d take the rain as a hint to leave) nods. Standing up, I have to SHOUT to be heard through the onslaught of Scotland’s finest mist…

Lesson 4: Irrespective of how many seasons you throw at them, a committed group will remain… and may even linger…

~~~
Part One of the Solstice of the Moon series.

This series of posts outlines personal “discoveries” during a walking weekend organised by The Silent Eye (A Modern Mystery School). (Could it really have been 2017? :o)