
The spiritual longing that draws us toward our higher selves and greater connection with Spirit is ancient. It is both intimate and universal. It feels personal to each of us because it expresses our individuality, but its roots stretch back eons.
In the high reaches of Scotland is a stunning example of what I mean. On the island of Orkney, there is a circle of standing stones called the Ring of Brodgar. It is a mammoth structure, larger than Stonehenge and possibly older. Dozens of sandstone slabs, weighing several tons and standing 10 to 15 feet high, encircle an expanse 100 yards across.
Each stone was quarried, shaped, dragged for miles, and set upright into a hole dug in the bedrock. This was formidable work for people in 2500 B.C., whose only tools were made of stone, antler, and bone. For an island of a few thousand people, this would have been a massive undertaking requiring organization and dedication over many years. Something profound motivated these people to invest so much of their lives in this monument.
Even more impressive is the orientation of the standing stones. Geological evidence indicates the stones were taken from different areas on the island. They are placed around the circle in groups that face the quarry from which they came. Was this a place for a meeting of the clans? Did each tribe bring stones from their homeland? No one can say.
Although we can’t know the reasons and intentions of these Neolithic people, we know they had the same capacity for hope and wonder as we do and the same need to respond to a world that filled them with awe. They were human, and as long as there have been humans, there has flourished a creativity and imagination that seeks to understand and align with the forces of the world.
Stonehenge, the cave art of Lascaux, the Lion Man of Stadel Cave, Venus figurines that are tens of thousands of years old – all of these point us back through time to our earliest yearnings to join the mystical with the material, to bring Spirit into human form.
You can feel this ancient thread if you slow your pace by half a step and settle into your deeper self. It is there when you gaze at the stars, or hold a newborn child, or sit at the bed of a dying parent. The things that matter most are unreachable and unanswerable, and it is to these we feel compelled to build monuments that will speak for us.

Photo of Ring of Brodgar, Orkney.com
Photo of Lascaux, Steve Sphar
