« Finding Balance | Main | Food »
August 06, 2005
Thin places
I had it pointed out to me that I may have missed the tone I was trying to achieve in my last entry. As a result this is something of an attempt to clarify that post. I have been blessed with a number of opportunities to travel and experience historic sites. I’ve been to places that range from a couple of centuries old to places that have historical significance from the first centuries of the common era. While they are all awe inspiring and special there are a few that have moved me deeply.
Ten years ago my Mom and I spent a month in Britain for several reasons one of them being to visit some of the sites linked to the Arthurian stories. During a portion of this trip we visited a number of sites but one in particular stood out. It wasn’t Glastonbury Abbey or the thorn tree said to have sprouted from Joseph of Aramathea’s staff. It wasn’t the healing waters. Our tour guide took us to the remains of one of the Celtic hill forts near Glastonbury. He was interested in divining rods and Ley lines and similar phenomena. While we were there he had my mom and I try and both of us got strong reactions along one of the more established Ley lines. I’m not sure how much belief I put in Ley lines but there was something going on and the place had a sense of presence that was deeply moving to me. The creepiness continued when we later developed the pictures and the one I had taken of my Mom had no sign of her in it. I was more than a little unnerved by that.
On that same trip we visited Tintagel. The town itself is small but the site of the ruins often referred to in the Arthurian legends as is a cave near the water line. Because of the nature of the community our accommodations were some distance from the town and ruins. As such we had several miles to walk getting there. In spite of the fact that the area has been developed it held a deep sense of power. We passed through a small ravine that felt as if a woodland creature of myth could walk out at any moment and it would be right. The actual ruins were no less spectacular and carried there own sense of deep awe.
A few places have held that immense sense of awe for me. Thursday’s trip to Lindisfarne priory held that feel for me. The last time I was there was on the trip 10 years ago. It was a stop that my Mom wanted very much to take and in which I had no interest. As such it was as a petulant 15 year old that I reached the ruins. Coming back as an adult, because I wanted too the ruins were deeply moving. In many ways I didn’t want to leave. The sense of the holy was present.
While I have found other places moving in the sense of human ambition and ingenuity it is not the same. These thin places hold a special place in my heart. I look forward to returning to the other sites again as well as discovering others that may be out there.
Posted by Bluerevolutionist at August 6, 2005 04:57 PM
Comments
Fascinating that you call them 'thin places'. I don't know if that's something you came up with, or a more commonly used term, but I think it's an excellent descriptor.
I remember that same feeling from several sites on our tour of Europe. More recently, I remember that feeling at a Monastery outside of Winnipeg. It was very moving, in a way similar to the feeling when my grandfather died - like you are touching the other world, through a veil. Profound in a way words can't describe.
Posted by: Raven at August 11, 2005 06:40 PM