The sky was finally cracking. The deep cloud cover was thinning and the glimpse of a possibility of sunshine for the afternoon at Carnac – France’s most amazing megalithic complex – was enticing. We paused briefly at the local creperie at Menec village – feeling like proper tourists, sipping our “boules de cidre” before heading off to the fields of stones.
As Kal has already mentioned several times, the theme of the day was “interdit” – access forbidden. However, as I have said many times on this blog, and I make no apologies for it, I believe that those who wish to work at sacred sites have special privileges when it comes to sacred sites. Of course, we care more than anyone else about preserving our heritage – that’s exactly what we are about! Yet, we are also respectful people by nature, and so when someone puts up a fence with the instructions not to pass, and they say it’s for the good of the flora and fauna, then we tend to acquiesce. But this is Carnac – surely, at some point in the many fields of megaliths, there will be a way we can work in some small space without feeling like intruders or trespassers? Don’t they know I have a quest to fulfil?
Menec
The first set of fields – the Menec side of Carnac – I am less interested in. Tourism – the eternal tramp of the curious and the vituperous – exacts a toll on the energetic welfare of even such a subtle engine as the mighty Carnac. Menec is the lamb offered up to the tourists as the sacrificial and the picturesque. We walk alongside the low green fence like the bus-loads of others here today and every other day, and we take our mementos too – snapping, wise-cracking and side-glancing at the stately rows as they curl off into the distance towards the bisecting road which brought us here. A white open-top double-decker bus passes us by, laden with scarf-wearing long-lensed visitors from Planet Normal.
Yet, as one half of my brain acts as tourist, the other half is already shifting into a different frame, another operational state. I feel, unbidden, tendrils of energy emerging from my energetic centre – a place I am going to call The Confluence Point. This is the point on your energy body where all of your energy fibres (or tendrils) bundle together, and from which they can be extended outwards into the world. The tendrils move away towards the stones, writhing like an involuntary Dr Octopus, joining the subtle energy paths which slink through the nearby stone rows. I close my eyes to see how it feels without vision, and I see The Wheel of the Year spinning slowly, turning my inner mind’s eye with it. The energy engine has begun to turn!!
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