The Sacred Aisle


In front of the wall was a slope in which was embedded a stone that jutted out –- my stone. Often, when I was alone, I sat down on this stone, and then began an imaginary game that went something like this: “I am sitting on top of this stone and it is beneath.” But the stone could also say “I” and think: “I am lying on this slope and he is sitting on top of me.” The question then arose: “Am I the one sitting on the stone, or am I the stone on which he is sitting?” This question perplexed me, and I would stand up, wondering who was what now. The answer remained totally unclear, and my uncertainty was accompanied by a feeling of curious and fascinating darkness. But there was no doubt whatsoever that this stone stood in some secret relationship to me. I could sit on it for hours, fascinated by the puzzle it set me. (Jung MDR,PP. 19-20) 

And so I walk in the direction of a dream, a longing to find myself and where I belong. Dreams are all around us: we are made of dreams and dreams make it possible to create the reality we seek to exist in.

Sacred Aisle

The Sacred Aisle

And so I perceive a dream-scape one of the sources that connected man to the eternal. A clearing and a way leading to some upturned ‘STONES’ of a curious shape and size. You feel a change of temperature – cooler, damper, more intense and yet soft. You look at the stones and see strange time travelers wanting to tell you a secret in their uncanny muteness. Lots of minute life-forms cling to them. There is a world there waiting to be born again as you may witness in the cathedrals scattered around the Globe.

To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour. William Blake

And so looking at the stones in the clearing  a sense of your true being and identity is revealed. Leaves, trees, grasses and even lichen become part of a dance: you start seeing things in things:

Face in a cork tree

Yes, you perceive the green man, the face of our ancestors, bearded, saddened but with great dignity. Compare it to how the face of civilization has been depicted:

See,” Ochwiay Biano said, “how cruel the whites look. Their lips are thin, their noses sharp, their faces furrowed and distorted by folds. Their eyes have a staring expression; they are always seeking something; they are always uneasy and restless. We do not know what they want. We do not understand them. We think they are mad. …. “We think here.” he said, indicating his heart Jung (P 42)

…. Yes, the green man that you may come across in the shadows and dances of the forest has a very different face and, in essence,  is our real face. Therein walk and talk the ‘ancient archives of wisdom’ that are the feelings and vibrations in our heart – a heart that has almost lost its body and been reduced to a state of heartlessness. But we know the answer to this dilemma:

Be present in this moment of time, just as you are present within your own heart. For the inner and the outer mirror each other in a way that is mysterious and wonderful. Llewellyn Vaughan-Le)

For the inside is the outside and the outside the inside. Tend the environment you live in and you tend yourself and vice versa.  And so I am to care for the Sacred Aisle!

My headman, a long thin Somali, told me the “natives” were so stupid that they didn’t even know what they were called. They said they were called “ the people who are there.” I found this very enlightening. Jung p63 

N.B.: The Sacred Aisle is also a space within a space:

I  have been trying in my way to be free

I  have been trying in my way to be me

I  have been trying in my way to see YOU and ME  …

in the future… ‘twould be something else:-)



2 responses to “The Sacred Aisle

  1. I was just looking at the face in the tree, the Green Man, and was reminded of some words Jung wrote:

    “I could not guess what string within myself was plucked at the sight of that solidary dark hunter. I knew only that his world had been mine for countless millennia.”

    Truly, if you are on a forest walk and just take the time to stop and stare, you’ll sense the same chord chiming in you.

  2. Pingback: Key (w)holes or Stairways to Heaven | DreamJournalRevelations

Leave a reply to Ian Rowcliffe Cancel reply