The Stonehouse Bookstore and Growth Center has long been a favorite among northwest pagans. Formerly located in a charming little storefront in downtown Redmond, Stonehouse has moved to a tree-shrouded nest on Rose Hill in Kirkland. The new building is a one-story, wheelchair accessible beehive of holistic care with ample parking. Inside are bookstore, therapists, massage practitioners, classrooms, and quiet places for prayer and meditation. Expansion plans include naturopathic doctors, a day spa, and coffee/juice bar.
Stonehouse is a nonprofit learning community whose mission is to integrate the Spirit into everyday life. It seeks to bring harmony to our relationship with the Earth and with each other by providing resources and programs for personal development, health and healing, and spiritual growth. A worship experience called "The Celestial Circle" is offered every Sunday morning at 11:00 am combining ritual, lecture, and sharing under the general umbrella of the Puget Sound Swedenborgian Church.
The center draws well known teachers like John & Caitlin Matthews, David Spangler, and Judith Laxer. Recent presentations included "Celtic Methods of Divination," "Money & Manifestation," and "The Goddess On My Altar." Just in time for Summer Solstice was a class on "The Longest Day And Deepest Night." There are classes on healing, relationships, animals and nature, yoga, tarot, sufism and meditation. Stonehouse services include weddings and memorials, hypnotherapy, massage and a retreat center.
Two recent classes were David Spangler teaching on "Blame, Shame and the Identity Game," and Caitlin Matthews, here from England for several days of lectures, speaking on "The Spells Of Women."
Spangler told a story about being vilified by a fundamentalist out to make a name for herself. At first he laughed it off, but when he realized that some people were taking her seriously, he felt angry, afraid, and victimized. Friends told him to sue for defamation of character. He was confused and upset. Then he had a dream. In the dream his spirit self met the fundamentalist's spirit self and he complained to her that she was making a heap of trouble for him in the corporeal world. She said yes, that was her job in cosmic reality. They both realized the truth of this and laughed. He decided then not to sue but let her fury wash over him. She ultimately failed and lost standing with the fundamentalist crowd.
Spangler used the story to illustrate the notion that we live on two planes simultaneously: corporeal and spiritual. The corporeal plane is the plane of physical shape and substance where we can be hurt, but also where we learn lessons and act out solutions. The spiritual plane is shapeless and beyond words. It is where we experience healing and universal connectedness. Our full identity partakes of both in balance to be whole.
Our corporeal plane is like a room full of Legos, he said. The Legos are the elements of our lives and experiences. Some Legos fit better than others. Some are damaged or broken. Still others have sharp edges that can cut and hurt. Sometimes we will cling to a Lego, even a damaged one, because having a damaged Lego may seem better than having no Lego at all. We may hold onto a damaged Lego and ease our shame by blaming it for not being able to complete our creation. However, if we call into play our spiritual side and approach the damaged Lego with our full identity, we can work through our shame and get on with our creation.
Spangler noted that we try to access our spiritual side through ritual, prayer, meditation and other practices. To be effective, these practices must go beyond rationally analyzing the Lego or getting in touch with our feelings about it. They must go deeper, into the energy of the Lego itself and into our energy. Our spirit breathes through these energies to birth a new understanding with which we can reapproach the Lego and ultimately use it, fix it, or throw it away. Some religions, he observed, neatly solve the problem of the broken Legos by transferring the damage from the Lego to the person. They claim that people are intrinsically damaged by original sin. Shame and guilt are their natural state. The religion then builds a bridge to an external spirit who will heal them. (I love brilliant marketing! These religions create a myth in which the customers start out with an unavoidable need, then create a product over which they claim the monopoly. Tithes anyone?)
I was struck by how well the Lego metaphor relates to maturing. When I was young, I did not carefully build one Lego at a time with any sort of plan. My culture, parents, and teachers all told me I had to have this Lego and that Lego. When I picked them up, they were already attached to other Legos I had not specifically chosen, but which were assumed to come along. We are encouraged to do this to complete ourselves. By the time I was eighteen, I had cobbled together a magnificent house and thought I knew it all.
Over time, however, I have discarded many Legos and only pick up new ones one at a time. Now I am coming to appreciate the beauty of senior citizens, especially those who seem wise about big matters, but are very picky about small things. They seem to have transformed their blocks of Legos into a balance between corporeal and spiritual, from which they can examine all sides dispassionately. Maybe that is what wisdom is all about. Yet they cling to a few seemingly inconsequential Legos, like exactly when they want their tea. Perhaps with their identities secured, they have chosen a few Legos for simple comfort, leaving weightier matters for experienced discernment. These seniors represent for me a happy future prospect, to cling to a Lego as a chosen comfort instead of as a crutch that is better than no Lego at all.
Spangler concluded that one of the biggest gifts we can offer each other is to help others see their Legos as we see them and to invite them to see our own as they see them. By entering into dialog with each other, we can better understand our own identities.
Caitlin Matthews' presentation on The Spells Of Women underwhelmed my expectations. Yet how can I fault her? To be able to hold forth for two hours on a nebulous subject, staring at the ceiling, and assiduously avoid any mote of content requires at least some moxie. Her obscure references from ancient authors were perfectly matched with equally unconvincing modern examples: A woman who lost her notes, a healer who was always sick, and her own ministry of sitting with the dead. My neighbor doodled and the couple in front of me dozed off, but I always seek to find something of value in every event and I did in this class.
Matthews started with a song accompanied by a harmonium. This is a clever wooden instrument that works like an accordian in a shoe box. It has four dials on top to set the tones and easily packs into the luggage. She also used a zither while leading a trance journey. Even nonsense words alternated with casual random plucking can have a certain mesmerizing quality. Finally, the steady repetition of "um" in her speech did have a lulling effect not unlike an eastern chant.
All of which shows that the Stonehouse is a balanced provider of many resources as it attempts to meet the needs of a very diverse community. What appeals to one may not appeal to another, but there is so much at Stonehouse that surely everyone can find plenty to satisfy them. The Stonehouse is located at 12602 NE 85th Street (also called the Kirkland-Redmond Road), Kirkland WA 98033. Phone: 425-889-5106. Open daily after 10:00 am.
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