Remembering Mary Magdalen

25 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Purging the Fear

May 25^th, 2004 Bulimia is back. On the eve of my journey back east to make a connection within the publishing world, I fret, yet even in the midst of my angst, I still am connected, ever more aware of my humanness. My rabbi friend has come in strong at the beginning and now again with words of wisdom. She says there is something magnificent and horrible about being chosen. Great responsibility/great reward. Great passion/great loss. Only Steve is the steady one—the first knight—dependable, honest, trustworthy, gracious, kind. He points out that my energy is like a magnet to which others flock, asking to be shown the way, but I am not the way. What they perceive as divine in me is their own reflection.

Composing was regurgitation onto paper, painful but relieving, probably why during the eight moon cycles I wrote, I was not bulimic. It took me a long time to feel comfortable being Mary and then present the raw truth of who I am—the first draft tipping the scales at five pounds—over 1000 pages. Editing was like peeling off my skin with ragged fingernails, then trimming the underlying fat to get to the meat. And sharing the printed pages for feedback unearthed my insecurities. How nervous I was that it wouldn’t be perfect. Although I learned to appreciate whatever critique the universe delivered—the good, the bad and the ugly—bulimic Deb returned to unveil my fears.

24 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Torn between two loves

May 15^th, 2004 Steve voiced his concern about me calling a distant friend for support. Apologizing I searched for the source of his concern and could see that I am not fully attending to him, not fully present. Yeshua says Steve has waited so very long and this remembrance is a reminder of his burden of responsibility. Now Steve has an aching need to fulfill me, desires to be everything for me—lover, friend, husband, father of my children, provider, protector, confidante. He wants to be my partner, following me into this life as always but this time finally rewarded as my first and last. If I would have had this remembrance earlier in our life, perhaps we wouldn’t have bonded. Steve truly cherishes me, totally devoted to us. I have so much to be thankful for. With his light so deep verdant green, Steve is a co-creator in his own right, feeling disenchanted because his garden hasn’t grown, but it is my pulling away from us that saps the energy of our property. He provides the structure, I am the life force. How lost I get in self!

May 20^th, 2004 There is so much emotional struggle pulling this book together. The computer process is killing me! I am at the mercy of my technical ineptness. This was supposed to be easy, but ever since luring others into the drama, the fear of coming out overshadows the joy of creation. One’s knee jerk reaction to all that is Christian really riles me. Unconvinced that Christianity haled from Judaism, she even rejects the rabbi’s input. Yet still I take to heart her fears perhaps because they are a mirror of my own doubts. I have researched so many religions over the years and can see the connections, the shared themes in Judaism, Islam, Christianity, even Pagan beliefs. I have learned in this remembrance to sift through the mud to find the pearls. Early on I too had wrenching reactions to the “good and evil” language which Jarys allayed for me by explaining that it wasn’t part of the original Hebrew but adopted during the Babylonian captivity to blend with Zoroastrian philosophy. I believe Yeshua was a mystic, a teacher swimming against the tide …a hippy of his time!

23 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Women Scorned

May 12^th, 2004 Last night I had a dream, thankfully observed from afar, of Cephas badly abusing Mary then handing her back to Teoma like a ragdoll. I awoke to Steve drawing me close. Yeshua emerged from within, both in the dream and awake. Mary embodied all women held at fault by men who judged them as temptresses, abused and rejected them. Women and their children suffering for two thousand years because the sacred feminine was hidden away. Cephas represents those men without the courage to be their truth, Teoma represents those men who seek to save the vulnerable. Although some may think this is a Christian overlay, I recognize that in most cultures men hate women for relinquishing their feminine power.

Beginning the research process, I found much support for what I had written, yet uncovered much sadness regarding the treatment of women. Perhaps if Mary’s story had been received at its inception, the world would have been kinder and more compassionate to women and children. If both men and women would open to receive the sacred feminine, she would be revered not abused.

In this life, I have been fortunate to be well treated by men. My father was gentle. My grandfather showed me only unconditional love. My first boyfriend treated me with such reverence, I married him. Unlike most of my female colleagues who struggle to find support in the masculine world of medicine, my collaborating physician is my knight in shining armor.

As I awaken to the Divine Daughter energies I see that the world reflects back to me what I believe about myself. And I believe I am beautiful, wise, witty, strong, and safe. So men trip over themselves to open doors for me. While perfectly capable, I allow them to assist me and graciously thank them, knowing that every opportunity for the divine masculine to recognize the sacred feminine is healing for us all.

22 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Time to Edit

During the creation of LoveDance, my husband wondered why I didn’t use a story board, but I didn’t need one, the story unfolded magically, plot threads weaving themselves into an amazing tapestry. From September 16^th through April 21^st, I wrote over 420,000 words! Resembling the rehearsal of the lead role in an epic film, I became Mary in every intimate detail. Too much detail…time to trim the fat from the lean…

April 22^nd, 2004 Without a break, I begin the editing process. The memories must wait, for now is the time to refine book one. I need movement, having neglected Shane, I miss riding, but my compulsive nature cannot stop until it is finished. Still as I catch my breath, yearning to continue Mary’s story, I wish not to be separated from my muse. Perhaps now I should take the time to read what others have written about Mary Magdalen, find out if there is any proof of the remembrance.

April 27^th, 2004 Steve found the Goddess in the Gospels. An interesting book, the energy, symbology, geomatria amazing, not quite in line with my work, but I do not take offense. We all create through the filter of our perceptions. Yeshua comes in sporadically now that I no longer actively create. Even my cat does not sit on my lap as I edit. In the book, I read a quote: “Return my wife to me.” Taken by church doctrine, perpetuated through the centuries, hidden by default, heirs forgotten, bloodline diluted, the message of love but a glimmer of hope in the heart of those incarnate souls yet… fear reigns when the truth is revealed. Now the Great Mother labors, there is no stopping the birth of the goddess—the sister, daughter, wife. We are all midwives—the bridegroom waits patiently. Blessed am I to receive the fullness of self without shame or judgement and casts back the light of my beingness into the shadow that was Mary.

21 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Separation

The conceptus floats in a rented womb

Attempting to individuate Self

Separate from the Mother

Two weeks before I dreamt I was Mary, I had set my intentions to have my own connection. Receiving Mary’s story in such an amazing fashion seemed an answer to my prayers. I sought validation for my interdimensional experiences by confiding in women old enough to be my mother. Women who had claimed their sixth sense, some even making a living by working with the energies. While they supported my creative process, I could not see that I was searching for the Divine Mother through them rather than find the connection in my own heart. With my horas nature, I bared my soul and shared everything with them.

For eight moon cycles I recorded Mary’s life—in the first person, present tense—as if I had lived it. All the while, reading each precious piece to the mothers in my life. Of course they loved it; their “daughter” was creating something wonderful. Some were fearful for me as they peered into the future expecting this controversial book to upend my existence. Others lived vicariously through Mary, amazed as I wrote dramatic experiences of womanhood, some of which I have not lived, yet they confirmed the truth of the telling. Many of my presale readers ask if this story reflects my life and are surprised when I deny specific events for it seems so real. Perhaps I tapped into a vein of consciousness that allowed me to flow into another’s life, experience her very breath, and return to this reality to record every sensation.

20 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Searching for Maternal Mentors

I spent the first half of my adult life being the scientist, experiencing the masculine aspect of self, until I opened to receive the sacred feminine. Since then the universe has sent me maternal mentors—until I fully received my own power to manifest beauty and love in my life. Some of my mentors left all they knew—family, home, husbands, children, society—to delve into the old paradigm of abstinence. Separate from all to find oneness. They even encouraged me to leave, but I resisted, finding solace at home, in the arms of my husband, in the laughter of my children, in the life I created. Why can’t I have it all—spiritual enlightenment, inter-dimensional connection, and a fully human life complete with good food, good wine, good music, good sex, good tears? Is not this amazing body that my soul inhabits the vehicle for my transformation? Is not all creation perfect in its perpetual transmutation to come unto Sacred Union?

I remember when on…

Nov 5^th, 2003 A healing occurs as I release the need to venerate mentors, looking outside of self for the truth, when the guru exists within. My first spiritual mentor and probably not my last, initiated this awakening by telling me to plug in! After years of being impressed with the energetic connections when we were together, the amount of information coming in whenever we spoke, she got tired of our human existence being interrupted. We couldn’t even go to lunch without the guides coming in to deliver messages! She moved away as they all have. Besotted with love for all, I wish not to be an unclear portal, so continually release my fear. As I share the details of the story with Mom, she worries about Steve in this triangular relationship and how it is playing out now. There is much healing going on for all of us.

How I struggled with gurus who set themselves apart as the only one to know a certain concept. Yes, I placed them on a pedestal as I sat at their feet absorbing what they had to teach me. And with my audacious confidence I would apply what I had learned as soon as possible. If they could see it, feel it, be it…so could I. And if I could, then so could my friends, family, patients. I believe what we see in others is a reflection of what we believe about ourselves. As soon as I realized I was venerating another, usually way after those around me provided ample warning, I would cut the guru down…release her from the throne in my mind and set her free. Then another would take her place.

19 Remembering Mary Magdalen: If Mary can do it, so can I

April 9^th, 2004 Since so much that I’ve written has happened, I wondered… if Mary can read minds why can’t I? Of course I know what Steve is thinking, but we’ve been together so long. So at Border’s I was in line to get a latte and a few moments later it felt like my pants fell off! I twirled around and the man directly behind me backed away guiltily. “You better watch what you think,” I warned and he tuck-tailed it out of there! Sipping my latte, I told the universe that was too much information.

April 18^th, 2004 Steve dreamt of the compound then and in the future, slipping through the portal and enacted a scene nearly identical to one I wrote about Teoma even naming the characters, the events. Still he has yet to read anything I have written. I must quell my passion to keep from slipping more and more into the parallel universes. There is no time, all exists in the now. Often I am in both places here in Ojai and there in Galilee, so much poetic remembrance. I am blessed to be connected to sacred unity slipping in and out of bliss while I travel my path.

April 20^th, 2004 Eight moon cycles to the day, I am finished! We celebrated with dear friends who I believe were with us in the past. Since the conception of this book they’ve remodeled a home in Palm Springs like those of Qumran, sharing with us their love for the desert. I wonder why? J The synchronicities never end!

18 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Passionate Me

March 14^th, 2004 These cords of attachment run deep and long. In the ethers we release them, in our bodies we struggle with their remnant energy—the habit of being attached. We respond to the fiery emotion that cast the cords into metal chains to bind us. It is not easy being human, but it is divine. We are never alone although the work is done secretly in our heart under the watch of our mind’s eye.

March 17^th, 2004 Seeing the Passion of Christ affected me not as I expected. With Yeshua’s ethereal support, I rose into a place of compassionate observation understanding that the depiction is through the filter of fear. Jarys had a tremendous opening seeing that pain, suffering, even death is all of the One, that the two flames are One, that the One is within. He argued with Yeshua through me about returning to fix the mess his followers have created. Yeshua explained that the second coming is an awakening of a christed consciousness within each of us, spurred in part by the book.

March 20^th, 2004 On my birthday, adoration comes up in a sense of awe for who I am, for creation, for those I love. Looking into Steve’s eyes, I see his awakening. As I release him he settles and meets me. Gathering the disciples in the writing, presenting them with compassion is a blessed chore. What confuses me most is who they are in this life, but I see flavors of each in many. Perhaps it’s the mitosis again. Once there was a Judas who now lives in many, some hold the guilt of the myth, some more like the Judas I remember—a bear of a man with honey inside.

17 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Like Mary, I am a healer

March 7^th, 2004 Well, I am a sensory healer! My beautiful patients reinforce why I am here. One young woman wanted a tour of her body, asking me to show her the energies claiming that my gift is to blend the spiritual and medical. In our next home, I would like a Chamam, a place for women, not just my red skirt that signifies my time, alerting my family to treat me warily. Kyra cut her hair and gave it to a charity that makes wigs for cancer patients. How lovely she is with her golden brown curls! How brave to give of her essence to strangers. She is the true Divine Daughter, seeing the light in all, living in joy.

March 11^th, 2004 The time is ripe to disentangle my cords of attachment to Steve, Jarys, Kyra, Mom, and yes to Yeshua. I have surrendered the others already. Just as I did as Mary, thus I will do as Deborah and discover the I AM. Do I choose this day to face the front or the back of the mirror? The back of 3-D phenomena—that which all creatures instinctively interact or the front—the true face of G-D, of the universal image. As I clear the dust of my memory, I see more and more connections. As I view the back with an eye to the front, a greater perception occurs and I can laugh at my humanness. Again something has shifted in my interiority. Today I write the surrender of love, especially Steve and Kyra. Jarys is easier for I surrendered him to his destiny when I birthed him into college two years ago. Since then I have danced more gracefully with his loving intelligence. Undifferentiated from illumination are children, but for the fullness of the human experience, each must develop all the me’s, then awaken to a deeper illumination and gather the little me’s without judgement, allowing them to be cast into the light of the One. The collective me’s develop in this life to be unified into the I, then connect tot the universal I AM. Children refer to themselves as me, the more enlightened ones like Yeshua use “I” from early on.

15 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Expressing Gratitude

Jan 23rd, 2004 My walking meditation revealed that I need to express my gratitude. I do for Steve, the children, this writing, my ethereal connections, my patients and family. Perhaps I do not give myself fully because I am afraid of the fullness of my power. Before I sink into despair the universe offers a gift. A patient I helped wrote to thank me for helping her, yet it was she who helped me see that depression is lack of self love and appreciation. I have compassion for the human condition for I feel very much connected to my form in this earthly density.

Feb 1^st, 2004 writing the Qumran experience is unnerving for what I have envisioned does not jive with what the scholars of the Dead Sea scrolls believe existed in the ancient Essene city. When I called my rabbi friend for advice she said to “forget 2000 years of Victorian Christendom and just be Mary!” I told her of my visions while writing the desert scene and she was surprised, claiming that what I “saw” is what kabbalists believe. How could I know what is only revealed word of mouth unless I was there? She believes in past lives. Sometimes I don’t know for it feels more like I’m living in two realities at once—the one two thousand years ago infusing remembrance of my potential into the present. The writing goes slowly for my emotive nature as Mary creates such drama; everything has sharp defined flavors—bitter sorrow, sweet joy, salty frustration.

Feb 20^th, 2003 Steve expressed concern about the book coming out. That I might not complete the work, that I’m more enchanted by the journey than the destination. And I am but that is the point of this life—the joy of the journey. Besides I have finished everything else I planned: my education, my professional leadership, my private practice, the children nearly grown, still happily married. Except the hormone book. I think he believes it would be more legitimate and thus safer. Perhaps but I have faith that this first draft will be completed this spring.