Stuart France's Blog

The Silent Eye

He stopped at the door, knowing they were all inside. Waiting for him, waiting for his ability to listen, to gather, to make pointed the urgings, the reasoning, the demands, until there glinted in the tired firelight the position, the stance, upon which they would cast their choices.

Beneath the cold stone where his sandalled feet stood before the mighty oak door were buried the bones of kings – generations of kings of Northumbria, mightiest of the Saxon kingdoms and most stable of the powers in the lands of Albion.
He let his right foot glide forward until the thick and well-worn leather of his sole touched the wood of the door… then let it lie there… They could wait; and in their waiting not know.

Once in there, beneath the twin gaze of King Oswiu and his Queen, his power would be guided like a sword being sheathed in…

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Shamanic Paths

They’re around here somewhere…

We spent the day out.

Searching for a persistently mislaid group of stone circles. I’m sure they may just be shy, and fully expect them to pop out one of these days when we least expect them to.

In the process, we managed to get completely lost. These things tend to happen when timings are out. Wandering, apparently aimlessly, down un-serviced tracks, back roads and the occasional dead-end, we soon realised that the day wasn’t going to be about stone circles.

If not circles, then what?

Where did that come from?

We had pretty much given up on the day, and were just trying to find a route home when, out of nowhere, the oddest church, with an Irish-esque tower, appeared amongst the trees. Might be worth stopping for a few minutes to ensure the day wasn’t completely written off…

Approaching the short drive… jaw dropped…

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Helen Jones

I recently attended a workshop, with The Silent Eye, about Facing Our Fears, an extraordinary weekend spent among the hills and grey stone villages of the Peak District. It’s taken me a little while, as it usually does, to process everything that happened. Once again there was history and mystery, good company and tasty food, old friends greeted and new friends made. And, as always, revelations.This is part three of my account, parts one and two can be found here…

We travelled through Eyam, the road taking us higher and higher, the valley opening away to our right. And as we did so the air began to clear, the strange weight that had burdened me lifting. We continued along a narrow track edged with tangled brambles and tall nettle, a fairy-tale barrier between us and the view. Taking a fork in the road among tall trees, Sue pulled the…

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The Silent Eye

*

… It was night, the horns of the bright moon shone,

the vault of heaven’s lights gleamed…

*

From the top of a lofty mountain,

Merlin regarded the course of the stars…

*

‘Guendoloena has left me in my absence,

and now clings to another man.

When tomorrow’s sun shines, I will go

and take with me the gift I promised her when I left.’

*

So, Merlin went about the woods and groves

and collected a herd of stags and deer,

and he himself sat astride the largest stag…

*

When day dawned he had arrived at the gates

of the place where Guendoloena was to be married.

*

‘Guendoloena! Guendolena! Come!

Your presents are waiting for you!’

*

Guendolena came to the gates and marvelled

at the man riding on a stag at the head of a herd of wild beasts.

Her bridegroom who was watching from…

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France & Vincent

*

The Inner and the Outer hold a key to secrets sought

Through maze of alleys leading to the circled temple court,

Where wingéd horse lends flight to feet and horses carry two,

And sleeping knights bear witness to a wisdom found anew.

What stories do the faces see, what stories could they tell?

Of knights whose sought enlightenment and death through living hell?

Within the oldest temple, where an older faith was hailed,

Sophia from Baphomet ever more her faced unveiled.

Now disembodied heads watch over age-old secrets found

And keys are hidden in plain sight to knowledge underground.

*

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Helen Jones

I recently attended a workshop, with The Silent Eye, about Facing Our Fears, an extraordinary weekend spent among the hills and grey stone villages of the Peak District. It’s taken me a little while, as it usually does, to process everything that happened. Once again there was history and mystery, good company and tasty food, old friends greeted and new friends made. And, as always, revelations.This is part two of my account, part one can be found here…

‘Go and have a look around. We’ve got a bit of time yet before the others get here.’

I can’t move.

We were standing in a courtyard, once the stable yard of the nearby manor house. The buildings had been converted into shops and restaurants, jewellery, homewares, tea and scones all set out for visitors. It was a gorgeous place, sun shining on golden-grey stone, pretty tables, green trees.

I…

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Helen Jones

I recently attended a workshop, with The Silent Eye, about Facing Our Fears, an extraordinary weekend spent among the hills and grey stone villages of the Peak District. It’s taken me a little while, as it usually does, to process everything that happened. Once again there was history and mystery, good company and tasty food, old friends greeted and new friends made. And, as always, revelations.This is part one of my account…

My journey began on Friday 13th, amid the hustle and bustle of St Pancras station, my train waiting beneath the great arcing span of glass. Perhaps it was the day – I’d given myself plenty of time to get there, yet still found myself rushing at the last moment, a wrong turn taken meaning I had to run the length of the station to get to my platform. But I made it on board and settled in…

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The Silent Eye

*

*

… After many years had passed under many kings,

Merlin the Briton was held famous in the world…

*

Peredur, King of North Wales

made war on Gwenddoleu of Scotland…

*

The troops were fighting, falling on

both sides in miserable slaughter…

*

Merlin had come to war with Peredur and

so too had Rhydderch, king of the Cumbrians.

*

Three brothers of the prince who had followed him

through all his exploits broke the battle lines.

*

They rushed fiercely through the crowded ranks

and soon fell, killed. Then, did Merlin grieve…

*

‘Could injurious fate be so harmful as to take from me

so many and such great companions, whom recently many

kings and remote kingdoms feared?

O dubious lot of mankind!

O death ever near, which has them in its power

and strikes with its hidden goad

driving out the life from the wretched body!

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The Silent Eye

It’s not the best of photo resolutions, but the above image says it all. Briony saluting the Derbyshire landscape in her own way at the end of three days of the Silent Eye’s Tideswell-based workshop: Sue and Stuart’s creation; and a wonderful experience for the group of souls who braved the provocative title for the weekend…

‘Rites of Passage: Seeing beyond Fear‘

…and decided that they would examine the roots of their own fears… and face them in the warmth of loving companionship and symbolic danger.

It’s a time-honoured formula for all mystical organisations; one that brings us all to a point where the day to day ‘fog’ of habitual perception is cut through by the vividness of landscape and experience. That’s what we hope to achieve on these weekends. This one worked well – and in different ways for each person, as it should, for we all…

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France & Vincent

*

Beloved child, a silent form carved with his mother’s tears

Immortalised in innocence, now sleeping through the years.

Above him yet another Child is carried through the stream

Upon a giant’s shoulders, with the clarity of dream.

Around them both, as painted scenes, a story old as love,

Depicts, in medieval garb, the quest for the Above.

Yet skeletons are dancing, garbed in bone as white as snow

To show that sinner, saint or king, where each of us must go

Beyond the portals of this world, when life has run its course

In spite of faith, or lack of it, to union with the Source.

*

Beck ‘n’ Call

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