I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no „brief candle“ for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.
George Bernard Shaw
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‚Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?‘ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Marianne Williamson
Get busy living, or get busy dying…
Andy to Red, `The Shawshank Redemption´
Winter solstice is upon us again in the northern hemisphere. This year my experience of this celestial milestone was somewhat out of the ordinary, as I had been given an unexpected opportunity to spend ten December days in the West of Ireland, catching up with some of the many members of my extended family of origin.
Having lived away from Ireland for over forty years, it has been a long time since I had experienced the extended Irish December twilight, dramatically accentuate this year by the low-hanging, leaden cloud cover, strong winds, and incessant rain.
There were, thankfully, rare brief breaks in the clouds, however; the effect of the flush rays of sunlight, whenever they did show, was intense, producing an almost hallucinogenic effect within the dark frame of wretched weather.
The experience prompted me to reflect on my vibrant relationship with the cycles of the Celtic calendar, and on the topic of darkness and light. My mind soon wandered back to an unforgettable visit to the ancient Sun Temple at Newgrange about twenty years ago. The memory is as clear as if it happened only yesterday.
Newgrange is a prehistoric monument built between 3,200 and 3,100 BC. It is located on a rise overlooking the River Boyne, 8 km west of Drogheda in County Meath, about an hour’s drive north of Dublin. It is an exceptionally grand passage tomb, – one of countless such ceremonial sites to be found on the island, – older than both Stonehenge and the Pyramids of Giza. Furthermore, it is geometrically aligned with first rays of sunlight on the Winter Solstice in a spectacular fashion.
The temple consists of a large circular mound with an inner stone passageway and cruciform chamber, in which modern scientific research has identified ancient human remains. The monument has a striking facade made mostly of white quartz cobblestones, and it is ringed by engraved kerbstones, making it a prime specimen of megalithic art. The mound is also ringed by a stone circle. Some of the material that makes up the monument came from as far as the Mourne Mountains, 24 hours’ foot march to the north, and the equally removed Wicklow Mountains, to the south.
While there is no agreement among today’s scientists about its exact purpose, it is believed to have had religious significance. It is aligned such that the rays of the rising sun on the winter solstice shine through a gap, or `roofbox´ above the entrance and brightly illuminate the inner chamber. This is a very early example of `sacred geometry´ produced by humans. We are blessed to have such treasures on the island.
The initial period of use as a sun temple lasted about 1,000 years. Newgrange then gradually became a ruin, although the area continued to be a site of ritual activity. Completely forgotten and overgrown in modern times, it was `rediscovered´ in stages from 1699 onwards. The first thorough archaeological investigation and excavation of Newgrange commenced sixty years ago, led by Irish archaeologist Michael O’Kelly.
Excavation, conservation, restoration, and reconstruction works subsequently took place, based on O’Kelly’s archaeological findings. Newgrange, now fully restored, is now a popular destination for domestic and international visitors, throughout the year, and especially around the Winter Solstice. Lots are drawn each year to decide which fifteen of the many thousands of applicants may be present within the chamber to witness the spectacle live on the morning of the solstice.
My one and only visit to this hallowed place, one summer’s afternoon almost twenty years ago, made a profound impression on me. The first thing that struck me was the sheer size of the ensemble. It was mind-blowing, as was the idea of quarrying the materials from far afield and transporting them (presumably) by local river, sea, and 20 km up the Boyne River to this riparian site (remember, over 5,000 years ago!).
Then there was the question as to how the architects got the solar alignment correct, to such a degree that the Winter Solstice spectacle functions perfectly. How could they have known what to do and how to execute such a plan? Surely the people who built Newgrange had both know-how, resources, and wisdom at their disposal which we cannot even imagine today. What cosmic forces guided them in this endeavour? How can we, as humans, tap into such forces and cultivate the connection?
The rich energy field of this holy place was very palpable during my visit. This aspect is more difficult to describe. I felt in the grip of `great power´, as in `deep connection with Creation and Creator´. Other situations in which I had experienced similar energy came to mind; experiences I have known sporadically throughout my life.
In last week’s essay (`Tomb And Womb´) I used the expression `deep cosmic communion´ whereupon several readers asked me to elaborate. One such experience of being one with all of creation, – or `not two´ (Osho), – was during this visit to Newgrange. The energy there seemed to suck me beyond my egoic state and subsume me into a greater universal cosmic whole.
Similar experiences occurred in early childhood. I recall, for example, lying in my pram on the riverbank, listening to the water career over the weir and the Atlantic wind rush through the crowns of mature sycamores that lined the bank immediately downstream. Subject-object perception was momentarily suspended; it felt like `home´.
Then, in my late teens and early twenties, there were the `induced´ experiences, helped along by LSD or, – even better, – magic mushrooms (psylocibin), which facilitated ease of abandonment of self to the greater whole. While I now choose to live a life `clean and sober´, I would not want to have missed such experiences, which were generally enjoyed `amuigh faoin spéir´ (Irish: outside, under the open sky), i.e. in natural surroundings.
The last time I can remember being drawn into such a `unity consciousness´ moment, was in May 2019, while at the Burning Man (AfrikaBurn) Festival in the Tankwa Desert, 300km north-east of Cape Town. My daily routine had me rise an hour before sunrise and walk into the desert to meditate alone while the first rays of sun caressed the arid interplay of low, smoothly formed hills and gently swooping valleys. On one such morning, in the crystal-clear desert light, the observer (me) and observed (rocks, plants, etc.) dissolved into one.
Returning to the topic of Newgrange, my thoughts turn to the relationship between darkness and light in the context of the vagaries of any unfolding life. Darkness is merely the absence of light, say the ancient teachers. In and of itself, it does not exist.
That is little reassurance to the child in each of us who has known the great fear of the dark. It is no wonder that ancient civilisations learned to celebrate the return of the light as experienced at this point in the solar cycle. My impression of the dark chamber on my Newgrange visit was that of a womb or a chrysalis. When encased therein, how can we be sure that life continues? Will the light ever return, or will we be left to remain in eternal darkness, in suspended animation?
As anyone who has experienced a major crisis in life will know, these questions represent a major challenge to the human heart and mind. In times of uncertainty, we simply cannot know. What pulls us through is hope. Hope and faith in a loving intelligence or power which envelops and suffuses us, guiding and protecting our journey through life.
The whole point of Newgrange and similar manifestations of sacred geometry is the cultivation and celebration of hope. It is this hope that makes possible the transformation of darkness into the living light of love, liberation, and healing. As Marianne Williamson reminds us: As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
