The Roman Baths in South-West England is a powerful energy vortex for healing. For the traveling empath it offers a tranquil refuge and invigorating sanctuary, even at the height of the tourist season.
The host at Burghope Manor country inn in Bradford-on-Avon, England, is a very wise man. He has seen many travelers come and go over the years, and obviously knows what is best for each of them. When I told him over breakfast that I had downloaded an audio tour on my iPod, from the local tourism website, and was going to do a “Jane Austen walk” through the historic town of Bath, he gave me a skeptical look like only the British can and said, “You might want to stop by the Roman Baths first. It is a must-see, but go there early in the morning, before the tour groups arrive from London.”
Well, who am I to argue with such a determined a messenger of the Universe? Arriving at the Roman Baths Museum, I was planning to have a quick browse around and then go off in pursuit of the famous Ms Austen’s favorite haunts. Well, what is usually a 90 minute visit for most to the baths, if you use the museum’s audio guide, became for me a four hour metaphysical adventure.
I soon discovered that I was back in the presence of the Goddess Athena, who I had encountered at the beginning of this trip in all her magnificence at the Acropolis in Athens, Greece. Yes indeed, it appears I have unknowingly been stalking her throughout Europe. Or has she lured me here under false pretenses?
When the Roman’s arrived here they were enchanted with the place and soon made it their own. Thus the Roman Baths. The Celtic goddess Sulis reminded them of their own goddess Minerva, for whom they built a temple here. And so the temple at the sacred waters of Sulis Minerva came to be. Many interesting offerings to the goddess were thrown into the sacred spring, including thousands of Roman coins which is to date the largest collection ever found in Britain.
People came from far and wide to seek healing… and revenge here. Yes, indeed. Heaps of rolled up lead and pewter sheets with inscriptions (defixiones) were also found at the bottom of the sacred spring. But they do not contain prayers for healing. The inscribed messages were in fact curses thrown into the spring where the spirit of Sulis Minerva dwelt; they were etched with requests for vengeance from the gods – mostly about very mundane trivialities: stolen coins and clothing, cheating husbands and unrequited love.
The punishments and misfortunes wished upon the perpetrators were all extreme considering the offense, and quite surprising to the modern observer. Had the gods responded to these prayers as requested, stealing a couple of coins from someone could easily see you hacked to pieces, eaten by birds of prey and burning in the eternal hell fires of the underworld! Revenge may seem disturbingly out of place in this soothing place of healing, but is releasing anger and letting go of resentment, in order to find forgiveness and inner peace, not one of the most powerful forms of healing?
My personal experience at the temple of Sulis Minerva was profound. As an empath I am a conduit for energy and predisposed to healing others spontaneously. I have as a result spent a significant part of my life being subjected to people infringing on my personal space. They often follow me around in public places, without knowing why, or stand as close to me as possible, in order to heal or somehow exchange energy. I guess you can say people like me are like ‘filtering docks’ or ‘recycling bins’ for the rest of humanity. It’s a tough job, but I guess someone has to do it.
But at the Roman Baths something truly amazing happened. For the first time in my life I had nobody trampling over my feet, crawling underneath my armpits or breathing down my neck. I was stunned. It was high season in Bath and the museum was extremely crowded, yet I could breathe freely and move around with ease. People kept a decent distance and nobody insisted on getting in my face. I remember thinking that this must be how ‘normal’ folks feel when they are out in public. I spent several hours inside that museum, surrounded by a mass of tourists, yet I felt calm and miraculously energized!
But how could this be? What was it about this place that gave a highly strung clairempath like myself a sense of perfect peace and liberty? Energy, of course! The Roman Baths is a powerful hub of healing energy. It oozes from the stones and bubbles up from the sacred spring, seeping into every pore, nook and cranny. The other museum visitors had no need for a feeble little docking bay like myself – they were broadband downloading from the very place itself! I guess you can say that, in metaphysical terms, I am like a slow dial-up line, while the Roman Baths is like logging into a powerful WiFi signal, while standing directly under the British Telecoms Tower in London.
She wore him on her chest as part of her armor, to serve as her shield. I could not resist and bought a Gorgon keyring and pendant at the souvenir shop. The Gorgon was going with me everywhere I go from now on… as a psychic shield to keep out the bad vibes, and freeze those ‘heebie jeebies’ in their tracks when next I visit my local supermarket!
And the goddess Athena? What did she have to do with all of this? Well, that is just it … Minerva is the Roman version of the goddess Athena. This place of healing and energy exchange is home to Athena, in the guise of Sulis and Minerva.
© 2013 Anthon St. Maarten