Magdalena

This is not just a ‘women’s training’ but a rite of passage into the future that is already here, waiting for our gaze to soften enough to detect the subtle magic illuminating all life.

I have been summoning the spirit of death recently. She has appeared to me in many forms; the dark goddess of the crossroads Hecate shrieking from my voice box, roadkill lifeless on the side of the road and a primal urge to massacre parts of my psyche that are controlling and afraid.

The church of Saint Sulpice is the beginning of the Roseline, a meridian that runs from Paris to the south of France. St Sulpice is the first sacred site marking the Magdalene mysteries, a cathedral built around a womb. The womb represents the birthing portal of life and our eventual return through the uterine waters to physical death. The Magdalene mysteries document Mary Magdalene’s arrival to these foreign lands with her children after the death of Jesus, her beloved.

Lilith

I have loved you since the beginning

And your chamber of carcasses

Abandoned by this world

The offcuts

The outcasts

I want to talk about a topic that is close to my heart and one that activates some of my work in the world.

The gender and sexual conditioning of men and male bodied people.

I have been journeying the past few years into territory that never before have i traversed.

I have scaled impenetrable cliffs, meandered through the most luscious forests, trekked the harshest deserts parched and trembling. I have encountered mirages, fairies, trolls and shadows that follow my every step. I have been christened by waterfalls and dragged into the depths of the wild seas by powerful tides whose surges demand my surrender.

A few days ago I woke up with the crusty remains of black vomit splattered across my white dress..

It was ‘spiritual vomit’; you could say I was officially christened by the divine mother.

This week a sister and I held a joint sensual bodywork session with a male client. Prior to commencing I invited him to share what he desired to feel and experience, he replied he was looking for connection. During the session he told us that he had not been touched for some time, repeating “it’s been so long” over and over. As I felt into his body my heart ached, I could feel his yearning for touch and connection, and I felt the imprint of it’s long absence.

I am traversing the ominous midlife stage of my soul’s journey- the hazardous 42. This midpoint of the lifespan can be described through the following analogies;

1. Imagine yourself standing in a public space and a person wearing a t-shirt that says ‘I call bullshit’ approaches you and tears at all your clothes leaving you naked and shivering amongst hoards of clothed people.

When I was in my twenties I remember reading an incredible book called Midwifing Death by Leslene Della Madre and it literally transformed my life. Reading about cultures that existed on this earth that revered and honoured the sacred feminine in women, of the earth and in cosmology; my cellular memory ignited.