The following are thoughts on divine intimacy, femininity and masculinity, and our explosive, interwoven nature.
I recently bought a book entitled ‘The Magdalen Manuscript’. I felt led by Spirit to purchase this, and after a while of putting it off, I ordered a copy. I was not disappointed!
The summary of the book is as follows; the book commences with some text written, via inspiration in the Spirit, from Mary Magdalen’s perspective. The story she paints tells of her and Jesus (or Yeshua as I prefer to call him) and their union, the journey of ascension through a process of alchemy. The author/editors add some historical and philosophical commentary afterwards. I was, to be honest, not surprised to read what I did, as the storyline has been something formulating in my mind for many years now. I am glad that it came to me when it did though, as I don’t think I would have been ready before.
As you might think, the gist of the text talks of sexual intimacy between Yeshua and Mary, their marriage and his preparation for overcoming death. Coming from my exposure to lots of Church and strong christian beliefs, I can understand the concern for heresy, and the absurdity vis-à-vis the Bible’s text. I have, however, always had a knack for remaining outside of the box enough to entertain wild trains of thought. Not through my own decision, but purely because that’s how I am. In my great adventure of life with God, I enjoyed devotionals with Yeshua, as I still do, meetings and talkings, enjoyment of one another. Back in the day prior to discovering my interests in ancient world practices and so on, I had very real experiences with Yeshua that carry the essence of where I am now.
There were moments when I met with him, which were highly intoxicating, passionate and romantic, and what I felt, heard from him through my heart caused me to have an image of him as a Lover, naturally, but gave me food for thought: why would he not pursue the depth of intimacy with a woman when he was a man on earth? This in fact, is all the more beautiful in my eyes. Whether it can be proved or not, the gems of revelation which I receive through my explorations of this are divine and wrap me deeper into his heart, and my own as a woman.
It’s odd, how a film was even made of this idea: the Da Vinci code. I watched it recently as the book reminded me of it. Something which stood out to me was the divine feminine, which the main character wrote a book on. I love this topic! I have been unfurling greater depths of femininity within myself and the world, and meeting face to face with the crazy, untameable wind of the divine feminine, the mother heart of God, the cosmic mother, so many names! She really is something else. And in the face of her, I see myself, like a mirror. And in turn I can see the divine masculine. The idea of these is to suggest an absolute, pure reflection of what is to be male/female, but to also be both at the same time. There is female/male in us all, just different balances. The difficulty with our world at present is that masculinity has been skewed like the concept of the bad father: if you have walked through any emotional trauma healings, you will be acquainted with the bad father, the energy which causes you to be enslaved, to think you are not good enough, to earn affection, and so on, all the things we can learn as a child as our parents are naturally imperfect. When I encountered God’s Father heart I was so overwhelmed I kept forgetting about it as I couldn’t contain the beauty of God having nothing to do with my experience of the ‘bad father’. It was incredible and I continue to soak in this.
If you observe systems we live alongside, like the classic rat race image, or the scary monetary responsibilities like tax, bills, fines, or the hierarchy of different levels of influence, a lot of these have high influences of bad father energies. The symptoms of these are feelings of loss of self-empowerment, fear, feeling controlled, lack of ‘wiggle room’ or plain old freedom. Not to say any one place is harbouring a pure expression of these, but to point out that we have a rife expression of harmful characteristics, which ultimately do not lead to abundant exuberance. The reason we have them is rooted in history, but generally it is to do with control and the power of a few to enslave the many. Like Yeshua said, we no longer need to carry our anxieties, but can cast all our burdens on him. How incredible, the doorway to unshackled life! It’s deep. This is briefly some of the sad aspects of a distorted masculinity I have been examining over time, and seeing in myself, walking through internal healing.
Similarly for femininity, how much has been lost. The two mirror one another; if one is marred, so the other in the same plane of existence will be. I came across this when I was learning about the term Jezebel, which is used in church to describe a woman who controls/manipulates others in not the nicest of ways. But, without going way off the point, what I have been thinking about most recently is the idea that aside from the harmful aspects of broken characteristics, femininity and masculinity have been simply two narrowly defined. There is so much more, and there is no distortion in their most purest, divine expression, in the heart of God, where we originate together.
We believe that femininity is one thing, like sweet, or sensitive and serving, believing that this is her most fullest form, and yet, there is the other side of the coin too: the wild, sexual, unfathomable female, who has often been deemed as the ‘whore’, at the most extreme. In classic biblical interpretation in church community, from my experience, the woman is submissive, peaceable, and lovingly serves, in general. In Islam, there is the image of submissive women too, as I’m sure in many other branches of faiths. Not to paint submission in a negative image, as there is something truly beautiful in surrender, in all these qualities. But the issue I have with it, is the idea of this being ultimate and ‘purer’. It is often perceivable if one looks at how a doctrine/general belief treats the opposite end of the spectrum. Say the wilder, misunderstood form of femininity. Not long after Constantine’s embrace of Christianity, and the Council of Nicaea, so many women were killed as heretics and branded as witches. I read a book a few years ago by a lady named Marguerite Porete, a French lady who wrote about the ecstasies of union with Christ. Her prose was considered so heretical, to speak of transcendence beyond earthly snares and divine experiences, that she was burned at the stake. We grow up being taught that all witches are bad and crazy, as were all those murdered hundreds of years ago, and sure perhaps some are misguided in their ways, but all? Or was there something too uncontrollable in the heart of these women, too pure and wild, which the authorities were afraid of, something they could not enslave? I have spent a few years volunteering in charities working with women in prostitution. I know some of the difficulties these precious individuals face. The image of a woman selling her sexuality, the concept of promiscuity, etc, branded as terribly dirty. And yes, it has become ruined in many ways, and these women are living examples of the result of shutting out the raw expression of women’s sexuality. No, women are not just perfect virgins, or on the other hand, nor are they dirty flirts/whores. Neither is true to the nature of divine sexuality in the hand of God, to enrichen and bring life to all.
Women, I am discovering, contain a secret doorway to a way of life free from framework, from law, or confines. None of this is to suggest women alone, or women without men, because then we would be at a loss. The masculine I believe provides a structure for the feminine to exist in, otherwise she would evaporate, so carefree and dancing as the wind is she! Both are beautiful and magnificent, complimenting one another. And we have this within us, and all around us, if we have eyes to see. So, the feminine is like the breeze, the nature of the earth, full of raw extremes, the seasons, the flowers, the sea, the sky…she is woven through all, as the music of a concerto, playing softly for all to enjoy. She does not demand, but neither can she be demanded of. She is soft, and yet powerfully wild. Do you see this in yourself? It is the battle between do I stay within the lines, or do I go outside of them? Sometimes it’s best to stick within, like on the motorway, or sometimes it’s time to stray outside, like to be able to arrive late to a meeting. The key is to be open to both, and to the flow of life, as that is what makes us human. We can trust the rhythm of life, if we allow ourselves to let go. And we will see and experience the perfect blend of masculine and feminine together if we so desire. It’s dangerous, because one cannot simply rely upon rules and boundaries, but one can honour them for their proper time, and allow for the wave to crash as a tsunami when the wave will. This is part of the cycle, the beautiful cacophony. Eventually one will see how all is one and together, and the vast experiences of life will roar harmoniously to display their perfect placement in time, and our engagement with them, how they shaped us and gave us opportunity to taste the human experience. We are not here to control, nor to establish a perfect plan, with carefully set out stages. Neither are we here to live constantly at the ebb of every feeling/desire, to live carelessly or disconnected to natural patterns. Both of these alone are pointless, because together they are so much greater.
Thank you for reading my rabbit trail adventure.
To bring this onward in my portrayal; those of us in the church and historically in various (religious) systems, have somehow caused a distancing from the free spirit. It was so termed by many leaders. Women who were murdered, were often branded as ‘free spirit’. I struggled in church with the feeling that there was greater freedom which something was trying to shut out. I often spoke to others about Holy Spirit, calling Spirit ‘her’, and wondering whether there would be space for more break out from the standard routine. To me it seemed all structure, of which some is good, but the balance seemed off kilter to my heart. It generally didn’t go down so well, but occasionally someone gathered my line of thought. I ended up moving out from the church and venturing off to Africa to follow an incredible woman called Heidi, who radiates love and life, the movement of the rhythm of God, the Spirit’s flow. I loved my rich time there and absorbed my personal healing in many areas of my life. On from there I took to living as a hermit for a few months, quite unexpectedly, weathering out autumn and some of winter in my Mum’s house she was selling, and turning into the quiet way of the clouds, the trees, the changing season. It was most powerful. I continued my research into church history, hebrew mysticism, our western calendar, and the controversies of festivals like christmas, easter and so on, digging deeper on my quest for truth, with Spirit as my guide. I discovered quite a lot about the natural seasons of life, which the hebrew calendar taught me, the various viewpoints on pagan festivals vs christian ones, and a couple of other things. Upon my arrival in London I was hungry for some passionate and fire-y community, and I took to gallivanting across different groups of mostly Christians, enjoying some, absorbing what I needed (and radiating too of course), and then moving on when the time was right. I found a job, and a house at the same time, and took that as a good sign, so dove into both; finding the perfect balance of work and community at home. And here began my next season of ever deeper and more expansive personal journeys. Over time my shell of conformity and religiosity has been falling away, and I have been beginning to meet my true self. It is interesting how much of one’s self is also portrayed on the outside, not just on the inside. That as one looks at the world, its history and structures, you begin to see the same within yourself. It is all mirrors. As you heal yourself, the world heals, and vice versa; as you look outside and move to act, you heal yourself inside too. We are everywhere. Hence, as I discovered about ancient history, such as Egyptian, Mayan, tribal, Asian and European…I began to see myself looking back at me. I learnt, I am learning, who I am. As I look to the universe too, and entertain cosmic ideas, other cultures, different places, in the same way I see a bigger part of myself. Am I not just earth bound, then?
Similarly so it is with this book. The unravelling of an idea I have been carrying in myself for a long time. Different signs through life which point me to question and to consider, what does my heart feel? And how am I moved by Spirit? Too many to write here. The point is how do I react, and what does this show me about the world, and myself. This is relevant to all circumstances of life. I see that I am an individual, a woman who is emerging increasingly free, and who cannot be shut-up, nor torn down, a woman who can speak freely and who’s fire will always remain wild and beautiful. Even if that may not fit within what some are told to believe, that is up to them to decide whether they want to be told to believe something and to subscribe to it, or not. My heart burned as I read Marguerite Porete’s work, or so many others’ writings, mostly written by women (some men, it’s not a gender thing), who emitted a pure and exotic flame of divine passion. I believe the world is spiralling up into so much more freedom. As we unshackle our true feminine, and unbind in hand the pure masculine, as one we will shine brighter than ever before. We are as stars, dancing upon the midnight blue sky, guiding the way unto miraculous birth.
Books referred to directly or indirectly:
The Magdalen Manuscript by Tom Kenyon and Judi Sion
Mirror of Souls by Marguerite Porete
Consumed by Love by Heidi Baker
Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich
Mother Teresa: come be my light by Mother Teresa (I never read all of this, but it’s on a similar wavelength)
Thank you 🙂
The photos I took; the first in southern France, and the last on a beach in Wales