The Fox Run Mall, Newington, NH

All things are creative experience no matter what they seem on the surface. The energy is vibrant here, positively electric. Humanity seeks diversion in all the beautifully lit shops artfully stocked with the latest shiny baubles, hottest new fashion trends, fast food, and people watching entertainment. A veritable Hallowe’en parade and a playground for some. The noise level is one of the things I have difficulty with. It is also hard to be present with oneself as it’s so distracting. There is a nearby restaurant blasting loud music. I absolutely hate it here so I am bowing out early. I feel dizzy, nauseous, and I can’t hear through all of this chaos– aagghhhh!

[The author had a melt-down here and left– forgive her, she’s only human.]

Earth Message: Know that you already have everything that you need whether you know it or not.

The Stonehenge of Salem, NH

There is an intensely powerful energy to the earth here. I find its presence so strong it is almost overwhelming. I imagine this would have attracted the ancient people who first quarried and built this site on what we know today as Mystery Hill. The earliest date currently identified by archaeologists is 2,000 B.C., but I am getting that the original Neolithic site is closer to 6,000 B.C., and that they were nordic people. They worshipped nature, its energies, and the cycles of the sun, moon, and stars. The site aligns precisely to the yearly astronomical calendar with monoliths arranged over its many acres. The people also used sacrifice to honor or appease the perceived higher powers. At the large, quarried sacrificial table, I do sense that both humans and animals were sacrificed, their blood flowing into its circular channel and collected at the base end. Did the Shamans appease the earth spirits by pouring blood offerings into all their many bedrock pools and drains? I find myself feeling a bit sick after some time spent at the site. A mild version of what I once experienced exploring the sewers of Paris, France, with its neat piles and walls of exhumed human bones from the original Parisian graveyards. Mystery Hill has been through other incarnations through the centuries. I am getting that only 40 percent of the original Neolithic stonework is left. Native American’s of course visited the site, and lately destructive quarrymen and post-colonial settlers. But the earliest work, some of it carved shapes, holes, and drains in the bedrock and mega-ton quarried slabs making up roofs and walls in the small caves (that supposedly were of religious significance in pre-christianized Scandinavia) are remarkable and have likely stayed put through the centuries. Tuning in, I am hearing that the natural cycles of our planet and solar system should be more celebrated. There are elements of nature that desire this very much. These earlier people were much more in tune with the Divine life force that flows through everything.

The Sacrificial Table. Note the carved circular drain and its channel on lower right for collection purposes. The block itself weighs 4.5 tons.

Monolith linearly true north of Sacrificial Table, fallen menhir at its back.

One view of the surrounding countryside, cleared to honor the astronomical alignments

Looking out from the doorway to the Oracle Chamber, leading to the “speaking tube.” The speaking tube, located beneath the Sacrificial Table, would make it sound like the table itself was talking during ritual sacrifice.

Gallows Hill, Salem, Massachusetts

There is a small, heart-shaped rock deposited by nature on a mossy hillock along the top of the original Gallows Hill in Salem. The actual place where Salem hanged their “witches” in 1692, according to the research of historian Sidney Perley. His 1921 maps positively identify the locale with all the surviving eyewitness accounts of the time, including the facts that the hill was accessible by water, was just outside the town limits over the town bridge, and could be easily seen from certain houses and locations. There is only one location that fits perfectly and it still exists today, though only partially intact. For years I have driven by the site on nearby Boston street and felt strangely afraid and a little sick to my stomach at the juncture of Proctor street. It would happen mostly when I was headed west, and I would wonder if there was some dark depravity occurring in the neighborhood up the hill beyond? The Walgreens and its parking lot gave me the creeps the few times I stopped in. I did not feel safe, and now I know why. Finding the stone heart tells me I have come to the right spot and for good reason. I sit and open my own heart to the earth.

It was cruel and ugly what took place on this small hill. Yes, the victims were carted here from the town gaol and hanged from the branches of trees. The hill looked out over what was at that time the North river, a branch of which ran right along the hill’s base, before later being filled in. In the 19th century a train track was blasted through the gentle eastern slope of this hill, leaving a steep cliff face which overlooks the Walgreen’s parking lot. The parking lot today is easily 12 feet above the original surface of the river. There is still sadness in the soil and rock of the hill. Thin and stony it gives rise to twisted and crossed trees and branches, witch-like in appearance. I sit quietly in presence with the energy here. The foliage is green and gold and there are silken threads of spider’s web glistening in the morning sunlight. The sky through the leaves is a clear, cloudless blue. I am guided to Ho’ oponopono, the ancient Hawaiian art of forgiveness. I am sorry, I love you, please forgive me. The words start out awkwardly and slow, but as I repeat them, connecting down into the earth, I am surprised. There is an essence of joy that begins to arise up and through me, and it keeps building and strengthening. Love is bolstering me, exuding from the earth. It feels warm and comforting. It was a nasty business here, but we can love and forgive. We do not see the big picture. But we do know, as real as it seems, this physical world is an energetic illusion, 99.9 % space. Scientists don’t understand how we can’t walk right through walls.

I feel at peace. I can now move on knowing I have done my part for whatever reason. One odd thing is that as soon as I learned the history of the site I no longer felt that old “sick” feeling passing it anymore. It no longer needed to call out to me. But what is even stranger is an experience I had months before learning of the site on a day I was heading east. As my car flowed with the traffic down the slight hill towards what once was the town bridge, I glanced to my left over a body of water misty in the morning light of the sunrise, gulls wheeling over it. I remember breathing “Ahhh!” and thinking the tide must be high that’s why I can see the water today. I also wondered why I had never really looked at this lovely view other mornings. Perhaps the tide had always been out– it’s not too often that I pass this way. I was mystified to learn that this view has actually not existed for quite a long time. All that remains of the North river is a narrow canal, and not particularly close to Boston street at all. To have seen the river how it used to look at some point in the past was a gift. The place was clueing me in, briefing me so I would understand the accuracy of the surviving record. Today upon leaving the real Gallows Hill behind, I only feel well-being and a softness in my heart. All is well; the universe has always been, and always will be, unfolding as it should.