Feast of Mary Magdalene (Legacy of Voice and Heart)

Today, I celebrate Mary Magdalene —and her story with Christ. She had an intimate friendship with Christwhose presence transformed her. Yet, her experience with Christ wasn’t believed: From Mark 16:1-20, Mary was the first to encounter the risen Christ,“Excitedly, Mary told them, “He’s alive and I’ve seen him!” But even after hearing this, they didn’t believe her.” From the Gospel of Mary Magdalene (page 17 v14-20)once Mary Madelene was given access to sacred knowledge from Christand she shared it with the other disciples, “And Peter added:How is it possible that the Teacher talkedin this manner, with a woman,about secrets of…

Something to Celebrate (More on Soul Care)

This is no ordinary day. Today, she hears it said,“Love your neighbor as yourself.”* (as yourself)(as yourself) This echo ripples through her core. She had never heard it this way.It was usually:Love God. Love others.The end. (as yourself)(as yourself) There it is again. A bell rings within. “If I’m to love my neighbors as myself, How DO I love myself?” she ponders. Her non-stop days of hustle bustle come to mind.Quick eating. Limited exercise. Doing for others. Crumbs leftover for herself. She catches a snippet of harsh self-criticism in her mind;a thought she’d never dare say to another. Hmph. (as…

Return to Me: A Sacred Mother Painting Exploration

MaMagiMamaMatterMaterMother Today, I share with you a love offering. The above is a small portion of a painting I created, entitled, “Return to Me.” From March 2020 to March 2021, I took part in the Red Madonna “Psalms of Creation,” (a branch of the larger Musea community). You are invited to spend nine minutes to watch a video that shares about this painting and the exploration of the theme of Sacred Mother and her relationship to the young masculine. In the video, you’ll hear why this theme is important to me and will see some of the layers, process of…

Seeker of the Edge

(A continuation from Ash Wednesday’s poem, Seeker of Ash) • • • Outside,the moon hangs with foresight. Inside,I sit in the basement of the sanctuary, rifle theforgotten book on my lap,flashlight in hand,flip with fury,find fallen phenomenon. Creeeeeak, creeeeeak, creeeeeakFootsteps above me,my heart stops— What if they figure me out? Quiet settles,I keep on,forge for informationof the deep way With roots fixed firm,there she is —arms rise to flexible form,an expansive stretch Gaia, spreader of seeds With flaming heart,there she is —eyes flicker with desire,faces the fable of sin Eve, seeker of solid food With fluid connection,there she is—hands embrace…

Sacred Treasure

I have heardthere is goldbeyondthe dollar,a treasure where deep joy abidesdespite the desperate web of storiesspun to seize. I am toldto seek thisfleck of honeypast the irate voiceswho squawk from one channelof persuasion andwiden my scopeto the holy court where wholeness and grace residesfor all. I learnthis wealthisn’t found inunbendable beliefof the left or right,rather is coaxedfrom betweenmy tears asI sway gentlyto see all anglesof the firm structuresin place. There, at the slim pocket offorty-two degrees,in the region of the heart,a rainbow ribbonof organic delightis glimpsed.Her eyes catch minewith a gaze of love;she reassures“I am here with you.” I breathe…