Yesterday was the Summer Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, and I say huzzah for long summer days even if here in New York they have been rainy and cloudy, and I am dangerously close to a vitamin D deficiency due to lack of sun. Watery light is still light. I'll take it.
I was curious about this Associated Press Article about the summer solstice celebration at Stonehenge. I have never been there, but the truth is, I don't get it. Not in the mystical "we don't know why it is here or who erected it" kind of way (or in the erudite words of the archeologist quoted in the article, "all of that sort of stuff we don't have"), but in the "why should I stand in the blowing rain and cold to look at a bunch of rocks" kind of way. So much for Enlightenment.
I know a handful of people who have visited this site. It's not a scientific sample, I'll grant you, but every single one reported that their visit elicited various levels of confusion, arthritic pain from the damp and variable British weather, and, most of all, boredom. Some of the more intrepid posed for photos, using their rain gear as makeshift hoods, channeling their inner Druids. Some never left their cars. (Once again, Eddie Izzard fans, take note.)
My Andy has a friend who lives not far from Stonehenge. When My Andy went to visit, the family figured it was the right thing to do to take him there. Daisy, the pre-teen daughter, offered her commentary (please read the following with your best British accent and the universal sing-song whine of adolescents the world over): "But why do we have to go to Stonehenge?! It's so boooring!!" Daisy was overruled, and the group drove to the site. They got out of the car. They looked at the stones. They got back into the car.
Daisy: "It was even more boooring the second time!"
My Andy (American accent, no whine): "I'll tell you, Daisy, it was pretty boring the first time too."
But what of this quote from that AP article?:
"This place actually gives people so much energy and thoughts, things that we kind of neglect in the daily lives and wish for...We can come here and make them come true."
Ah, now that is the kind of thing we're all searching for!
So my question becomes, do we need enormous stones, blowing rain, and hula hoops to generate said "energy and thoughts?" Do we need to travel to get there? Do we need to fight with our whiny pre-teens to achieve it?
Recall the scene in the film "A Room With a View" where Mr. Emerson declares, poking his own chest with a fork, "Here is where the sun shines! Here is where the sky is blue." (Oh, Denholm Elliott, how we miss thee...) Indeed.
What can we do to stoke our inner pilot lights, create energy, cultivate important thoughts and make them come true without ever having to don our Wellies and Mackintoshes? Moreover, what can we do help each other find a patch of inner blue sky and a bit of summer solstice respite in times of struggle?
The heart or love that we seek is a God-given energy (however you conceive of the universal spirit) that exists in all of us, not in faraway, mysterious stones. Do your work to tap into it, cultivate and share it. Make it come true.
No offense to Druids, please.
I was curious about this Associated Press Article about the summer solstice celebration at Stonehenge. I have never been there, but the truth is, I don't get it. Not in the mystical "we don't know why it is here or who erected it" kind of way (or in the erudite words of the archeologist quoted in the article, "all of that sort of stuff we don't have"), but in the "why should I stand in the blowing rain and cold to look at a bunch of rocks" kind of way. So much for Enlightenment.
I know a handful of people who have visited this site. It's not a scientific sample, I'll grant you, but every single one reported that their visit elicited various levels of confusion, arthritic pain from the damp and variable British weather, and, most of all, boredom. Some of the more intrepid posed for photos, using their rain gear as makeshift hoods, channeling their inner Druids. Some never left their cars. (Once again, Eddie Izzard fans, take note.)
My Andy has a friend who lives not far from Stonehenge. When My Andy went to visit, the family figured it was the right thing to do to take him there. Daisy, the pre-teen daughter, offered her commentary (please read the following with your best British accent and the universal sing-song whine of adolescents the world over): "But why do we have to go to Stonehenge?! It's so boooring!!" Daisy was overruled, and the group drove to the site. They got out of the car. They looked at the stones. They got back into the car.
Daisy: "It was even more boooring the second time!"
My Andy (American accent, no whine): "I'll tell you, Daisy, it was pretty boring the first time too."
But what of this quote from that AP article?:
"This place actually gives people so much energy and thoughts, things that we kind of neglect in the daily lives and wish for...We can come here and make them come true."
Ah, now that is the kind of thing we're all searching for!
So my question becomes, do we need enormous stones, blowing rain, and hula hoops to generate said "energy and thoughts?" Do we need to travel to get there? Do we need to fight with our whiny pre-teens to achieve it?
Recall the scene in the film "A Room With a View" where Mr. Emerson declares, poking his own chest with a fork, "Here is where the sun shines! Here is where the sky is blue." (Oh, Denholm Elliott, how we miss thee...) Indeed.
What can we do to stoke our inner pilot lights, create energy, cultivate important thoughts and make them come true without ever having to don our Wellies and Mackintoshes? Moreover, what can we do help each other find a patch of inner blue sky and a bit of summer solstice respite in times of struggle?
The heart or love that we seek is a God-given energy (however you conceive of the universal spirit) that exists in all of us, not in faraway, mysterious stones. Do your work to tap into it, cultivate and share it. Make it come true.
No offense to Druids, please.
I haven't been there but if given the chance would avoid it like the plague. It sounds less thrilling than Niagra Falls. When did flowing water become fascinating?
ReplyDeleteHere is where the sun shines! Here is where the sky is blue!
It's not the stones, but what happened in the shadow of the stones.
ReplyDeleteAs the old time mystery radio once said.
"Only the shadows knows"
Do we need it? Probably not, but you can now count me as your one friend who was inspired by her visit to Stonehenge. I think it's fascinating. And in response to one of your commenters, I am also in awe of Niagara Falls. Such natural force. It's an outward reminder of the bigger picture. Helps me move away from self centricism (if that's a word).
ReplyDeleteThere are people who don't marvel at stuff just because it's ancient. I do. I like the shift in perspective that comes from thinking in millenia instead of months or minutes. I like the "Long Now" which construes Stonehenge as a clock which ticks twice a year when the stones align with the solstices and the glimpse into the world of primitive science thus afforded to us. I enjoyed the broken ring of Stonehenge, and imagining it whole.
ReplyDelete@Teva - what a beautiful phrase, the "Long Now", and I appreciate your point about shifting perspective from minutes to millenia. I'd say we could all stand to do more of it. Many thanks for your comment.
ReplyDelete@Anon and Alp - I loved Niagara Falls!
ReplyDelete@B - In the Shadow of the Stones is a good name for a novel. It's what we're all looking for, eh?
ReplyDelete