hebrew

Why LoveDance?

I meant to write a healing book, you know the kind, a self-help manual based on my expertise… Everyone has a story: why they do what they do, how they became who they are in the world. And I have mine.

In 1984, I gave birth to a premature baby who stumped expert endocrinologists with numerous hormonal challenges. Defying medical advice, I orchestrated the care of my firstborn by learning everything I could about how hormones affect developmental behavior. My intuition proved correct—our healthy son is now a beloved teacher. In spite of my traditional training as a nurse practitioner, what I learned as a patient and a parent sparked an expertise in holistic neuro-immune-endocrinology, the interface, I believe, between the bio-physical and the psycho-spiritual being.

Through my own bio-psycho-spiritual journey, I evolved into an intuitive healer capable of honing in on the biochemical interconnections of human physiology and relating them to symbolic imbalances as lessons on a patient’s soul path. Spiritual gurus, psychological geniuses, and fully grounded but very ill patients from around the world presented themselves to gain insight on the wellbeing of their physical forms. Yet, I learned the most from the children.

In 1988, my daughter was born beautifully whole and much more work than my premature son. Although developmentally advanced, speaking by six months and reading at three, he struggled in his body, while she delighted in her humanness. Forcing us all to stay awake, she candidly shared her interdimensional experiences, in constant communication with my dead grandmother, so connected to her father that at any distance she knew what he was feeling, claiming with innocent assurance that they had been father and daughter in a past life, and like I did as a child, could lay her hands on someone and “know” what ailed them.

Meanwhile, my son struggled in school and at eight, asked to see a “brain doctor.” The psychologist insisted that with his intense brilliance, he could not have attention deficit disorder, but my son insisted on being tested with the “video game.” The psychologist was floored. How could a child know about the newly developed computer program used to differentiate learning disabilities? I just shrugged; his uncanny knowingness was part of our life. When my son agreed to submit to traditional therapeutics, “only, Mommy, if I do not lose my dreams,” again, I was challenged to find a natural solution to his dilemma. Of course, the universe presented lots of opportunities for growth as pediatric patients were brought to me by their parents.

After much research, I began treating my autistic and learning disabled patients nutritionally. While gladly mixing the “brew,” squeezing oil from capsules, carefully measuring powders, their parents asked me to create something easier. So by 1998, and after many exhaustive but futile attempts at finding the nutritional connection between genetics and the hypothalamic orchestration of the neuro-immune-endocrine system, I surrendered to the advice of my children and prayed.

Every night for three months, I had the same dream in which my most hormonally challenged patients came to drink from a chalice I held. We never spoke, but intuitively I knew they were better. I awoke every morning asking what was the golden liquid in the cup. The first answer came as seven letters, I thought were Hebrew, but later found were Aramaic. Amazingly they translated into the same single letter denotations used for the seven amino acids I had been studying related to the hypothalamus.

And that’s how my nutraceutical formula, Genesis Gold®, was born. Under its influence, I began to write about my journey, but it would be another five years before I realized the significance of initially receiving the formula in Aramaic. All through my years of healing, friends, family, colleagues, and most enthusiastically, patients encouraged me to write. They appreciated my unique take on healing, how I married eastern and western philosophies into successful therapeutics, how I seemed to know just what was out of balance to restore wellbeing, and how passionately I shared anecdotal stories from my life as a healer, wife, mother, sister, daughter. So in the summer of 2003, I began to write the book I had promised my patients.

But it didn’t go as planned. I had no idea how to put it together, no muse, no nothing, until September 15th…

I had a dream. I was walking down the dusty streets of Nazareth, fine linen flapping about my legs, my sandals gathering debris, as I hurried along anxious to meet my friend. Then I was there, in a humble courtyard, looking into the eyes of a boy I knew very well. In the dream, I was fourteen-year-old Mary, the soon to be bride of Yeshua.

Once the opening chapter was recorded, the muse did not leave my side day or night for eight months. I didn’t know why Mary’s story came to me. I wasn’t religious, nor particularly interested in history, but I was compelled to record the voice of the woman history had forgotten. I lived and breathed nearly every aspect of her story while typing like mad.

Here was a muse I couldn’t deny. Never once did I suffer writer’s block, but it wasn’t easy to humanize the man deified by so many in the eyes of the woman the world believed was far from his wife. Yet how could I deny the intimate details that came in dreams and visions, some even…in Aramaic!

My poor husband, always supportive, feared for my wellbeing, but as my son put it: he could believe my experience was the product of an unstable mind or he could believe in my inter-dimensional connections, deepen our relationship, and thus gain spiritually himself. Fortunately, my husband chose the latter.

I struggled to write Mary and Yeshua’s journey to Qumran for what I saw was so very different than what the scholars of the Dead Sea scrolls believed, so I called my dear rabbi friend. She advised that I forget two thousand years of what I was taught to believe was history as interpreted by modern Victorian Christendom and just “be Mary.” Six months later, she called to inform me that Israeli archeologists had just discovered evidence of what I wrote. I ceased denying why this story came to me and just relaxed to birth it into the world.

Being Mary changed my life. By embodying the energy of the divine daughter, recognizing her in others, and reaping the benefits, I became my truth. I’ve always been a cup-half-full kind of person, sensually oriented and passionate, probably from my hot-blooded Italian family, but somehow through writing this book, life became even more joyful. I chose the first person present tense narrative because that’s how it felt to me. The synchronicities between writing her story and my own have been amazing—as I wrote, it would become manifest in my life.

As Mary progressed in her awakening, so did I.

I opened to admitting to my patients that, yes, in spite of my scientific training, I intuitively diagnosed and treated them. Appreciating my honesty, they began challenging me to further my healing gifts, especially encouraging me to divulge the lessons from the book. Family, friends, and even patients clamored to share in the experience, so I released chapters of the first draft for feedback. It should have been no surprise that my readers had transformational experiences, but I was in awe because that’s what happened to me.

I always believed in the profound potential within each of us. That’s how I believe healing occurs. It’s already encoded; we just have to tap in to the potential for it to become manifest.

My understanding of human consciousness is an evolution of the Mother-Father-Son-Daughter aspects of the Divine. Originally, I believe, humans worshiped the earth as the Divine Mother, her body was ours. Then we looked into the cosmos and envisioned the Divine Father as spirit. In the last two millennia, avatars teaching in parables initiated a revolution of the mind, and ever since the Divine Son has been the center of religious worship.

Now the time is ripe for the Divine Daughter to manifest in human consciousness. She is emotion weaving the mind, body, and soul into Sacred Unity with All That Is.

I believe Mary Magdalen was the original embodiment of the Divine Daughter achieving Sacred Union with Yeshua, the embodiment of the Divine Son.

Although lost in history due to the fear-based struggle between politics and religion, her story is fortunately being remembered. I am blessed to present my rendition of Mary’s awakening to you. Writing from her perspective helped me remember who I am and why I’m here. Sharing in her journey may help you gain a remembrance of your truth.

As it turns out, I did write a healing book. Everything I wished to teach—the bio-psycho-spiritual healing lessons—are in LoveDance. In story form, the way a beloved avatar taught some two thousand years ago.

24 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Torn between two loves

May 15th, 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 20th, 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!

14 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Dancing in the New Year

Jan 2nd, 2004 Dropping Kyra off on New Years eve, I strove to meet the parents holding the teen gathering. Somehow the book came up. I have no hesitancy sharing this amazing experience with friends and family, but these were strangers. And they asked if I was Christian. And I said no but neither were Mary and Yeshua. They were Hebrew. The looks on their faces made me realize why Steve worries so. He’s preparing for crosses to be burned on the lawn when this book comes out. In spite of the controversial nature of my story, I must have faith that all will be well. This said, how hard it is to humanize Yeshua—but to me he was very much a man who felt love, anger, jealousy, joy. Yesterday during our new year’s hike, Steve was in a sweet mood, proclaiming to be able to take care of all of my needs, to never get lost, to provide me food and shelter no matter where, to lick my very wounds if need be. Although I yearn for a more ethereal connection, Steve grounds me to this 3 dimensional reality. After finishing the forgiveness piece between Mary and her mother, I felt great gratitude for how each member of my family, each person who has served to teach me lessons along the way back to the One. So this morning when I meditated on a disturbing scene, I know I cannot judge what seems like an incomplete memory. How many times have I envisioned parts of this story only to sit down to write and what flows from my hands more beautifully insightful than I imagined?  

Jan 12th, 2003 Last night we celebrated Steve’s birthday at the Greek restaurant and the belly dancer enticed me to get up and dance by offering me her zils—an ancient gesture of recognition just like when Miriam led the Yisraelites in celebratory dance at the Red Sea. It was amazing and our friends commented on how “tribal” I danced. Somehow I knew how to dance this ancient rhythm, perhaps because I had just written a scene in which Mary danced in celebration of the new moon.  At the last science and consciousness conference in Albuquerque, I joined the dance of universal peace and got lost in the ancient rhythms. Afterwards many approached to thank me for my presence asking if I was a professional dancer. Surprised and flattered, I shared my experience with a friend who was a ballroom dancer. She took offense claiming I had no training. True, but at the African drumming circle at the end of the conference, I could not help but dance with the energies. So I danced the drums and the drummer seemed to drum my beat—an erotic meeting of souls through music.