Her

 

Who is she? A tower of silence, a storehouse of myrrh, in the very core of your body. The distillate of pure compassion that remains when the trauma has been felt, savored, expressed, forgiven, and transmuted into wisdom.

Migdal, the tower. Miryam, the bittersweet ocean of myrrh. Cave-dark, carved from stone, a naked ascetic, yet gowned in the luxury of her own black hair, she held a candle under the alter. Yet she was the alter. That is how I first beheld her in the tiny chapel of the Prioré de la Madeleine. So humble, yet her mission? To awaken the modern world to Christ Consciousness.

Why did a Spirit-wind blow her rudderless boat to the shores of southern France, this grotto in Provence? To bring us the gift of the meditation that Jesus taught. The Gnostics called it "the sacrament of the Bridal Chamber": union of the sacred masculine and the sacred feminine in the heart.

Jesus and Magdalene are not mere lovers, but the undulation of love itself, Christos and Sophia, Shiva and Shakti, dancing in our subtle physiology, swirling up the vertebrae, to fill our flesh with the wisdom of the stars. Her tower is the spine, her myrrh the sweetness of this very inhalation. Her ocean the gift of Presence.

The Gnostic Gospel of Mary says, "He spoke to her in silence." Jesus did not give his deepest teachings to Peter and the apostles. He gave them to Mary in a more intimate non-verbal transmission of energy, the flow of Ruuh, the vibration of Spirit herself.

Mary's wisdom is so wild, so foolish, so simple, it need not be "taught," just stumbled on and fallen into. Be a pebble of gratitude dropped in her dark waters. She dwells under the words. Just let the vast blue sky of her gaze enter the space between your eyebrows. Her ineffable glance will say, "Don't worry. Don't be afraid. Beneath the noise and chaos of this world is a healing depth of unfathomable silence: it is your very Being." Her breath will take you there.

Photo: Prioré de la Madeleine, Bédoin
Art: Sue Ellen Parkinson