Mary Magdalene's Message

Love is a force to be reckoned with.

2011-09-23T11:15:00.001-05:00

The message of Jesus and Mary Magdalene was love. Jesus introduced the new age of the Pisces with a new logo; Love is a force in the universe. It put the previous belief system on its head. Social justice was being replaced with compassion, a radical view in his time.

It is still a radical view. We're still practicing the importance of social justice, even to the point of invading another sovereign country or suing for minor offences. Jesus taught forgiveness and inclusivity, but it seems like the people who announce their religious fervor the strongest are the least forgiving or inclusive. I'll let that be a case for their own conscience to consider.

The church has over time taught us that being meak and humble was a sign of love, only to use it to create good sheep for their flocks who were easier to control. Physical love was called sin to create an over reaching guilt over a natural need for closeness. This was a very effective way of taking the teachings of Christ, turning them upside down and establish the hegemony of the church.

Having studied the Cathars, the Gnostics and the early church, I've found that the true teachings of Christ and his main disciple who continued teaching after he left us, Mary Magdalene, taught love from a different perspective. They taught purity of body, mind and spirit, so that the love you sent out would be more powerful. They taught that physical love between husband and wife in the bridal chamber led to union with God. (Now, love is love, and husband and wife refers to male and female forces, which are present in any combination of lovers). They found that love sent out as a loving field would diffuse a conflict, would provide protection, would create a field of inclusion in a community.

We can talk about romantic love, forgiving love that turns the other cheek, paralyzing humility taught as love, parental love, love between friends, etc. All these topics deserve their own chapter. What Jesus talked about was different.
Together they taught the idea of Love as a forcefield in the Universe. Love is a forcefield we can tap into and send through ourselves and direct towards a situation. It does require humility, a loss of ego, and pure intentions, but once you get the mechanics, it's a force with great power.
Love becomes less personalized. You don't have to love the person or the situation, justifying why you love them, or even like them. You generate a field of love, because anything in creation is made of Gods love, and you need to infuse the situation with more of it. If you have a conflicted situation, it is because love has been removed from it, so to calm it down, you reintroduce it.

This is an active use of the force of love. It is not like romantic love or parental love, which acts upon you, or love in response to kindness. This is a way of establishing yourself in the field of love, knowing how it works and then utilizing it as forcefield in your surroundings.

I'd like to give you an example. I was standing at a trainstation in Chicago at 2am. There was a group of young men waiting for a train as well, and I positioned myself some distance from them. I am generally not afraid of people, but I have great respect for the effect of group mentality, so I looked in a different direction and found a more stable footing in my boots. One of the men came towards me and said something. He was so dark he almost disappeared in the night sky. His face told me he hadn't met much kindness in his life. I thought that this could turn into a not so good situation. What could I do? I smiled my most polite and welcoming smile as I turned towards him, still very much on the alert. He was perplexed and said, "Aren't you afraid of me?" This was my chance. I assembled all the love I could attract from my surroundings and showered him with it, as I said slowly and in my most reassuring and gentle voice, "No, I'm not afraid of you." I stood there, smiling and holding the lovefield, as I watched the other young men observe the situation. The young man in front of me was bewildered for a moment. Then he drank in the lovefield like a thirsty camel who had been in the desert for too long.
The train arrived. He sat down next to me and leaned his head on my shoulder. During the ride I managed to switch sides with him, so I sat on the aisle side. I waited until my stop, and left quickly to catch my corresponding train. On the next train, another passenger who had seen the entire passage of events said to me, "It was a brave thing you did there." I noticed that a couple of other men on board seemed to have observed what was going on as well. They were ready to intervene to prevent anything from happening, to protect the young man from doing something stupid and to protect me from a situation I possibly could not handle. I felt that I had stepped into a protection field I had no idea existed. All because I decided to respond with love instead of fear. And to my surprise, I discovered how powerful, inclusive and protective it was.

This entry is an introduction to a wide topic. In the following blog entries we will discuss how to infuse yourself in the existing field of love of creation, the laws of physics that govern this work and how to use human intent and imagination to wield the force.

New focus.

2011-09-19T23:49:00.001-05:00

I'm back from the Alchemy conference in L.A. with new inspiration. I realize that I'm not ignorant in these matters. I've lived a long time, I've experienced a lot and all this time I've tried to create my own framework of reference to understand my own process.
I've listened to a lot of good people with a lot to teach. Kathleen McGowan, the author, was there, showing me her parallell path to my own, with a lot more success to show for herself, which I can admire, or be envious of, according to which route I want to take. Dennis Hauck is always inspiring with his long and extencive personal dive in all subjects of Alchemy, from the mathematical theories, to the lab, to our spiritual progress. William Henry showed us how to build our own light body. Sonia Barrett gave us her crystal clear insight in the mechanics of evolution without any New Age Lite statements. She is profoundly honest and says unless you're willing to go into new places that are uncomfortable and difficult and willing to put your world view upside down, you're really just at your own favorite spa talking bumpersticker statements. Which I feel a lot of people are, including myself from time to time. Granted, there are things we need to heal, and for some that means finally finding some comfort after a harsh life. For some that means finding the last statements that are "in" and restate them in the right context.

To analyze my own belief system and challenge my own limitations, that's a challenge that requires some real thinking. I'm finding where I've been lazy, complacent, and seeking comfort because anything else have scared me. It's time to stop being scared.

Well, to pick up Gales challenge, what do I know? Why do I feel this pressure that it's time? Time for what? I feel like the white rabbit with the big watch in his hand who knows perfectly well that he's late, late for an important date. Oh, where's my favorite spa, I need an oilmassage. No? I am scheduled for a trip down the rabbit hole into unknown territory.

I watched Kathleen McGowan describe her traveling in France in the same places I've been, drawing the same conclusions. I watched her give a brilliant presentation of her work, of her dedication to Mary Magdalene and promoting her message. I listened to her describe her life, traveling, writing, giving lectures, and I almost cried. This is the life I wanted to live, the message I wanted to give. Where did I leave it off? Where did I lose track of my own mission? What happened along the way where I got distracted, got lazy, didn't go further, didn't attract the attention that I needed?
There aren't any answers to this. She deserves everything she has accomplished. She has worked hard, is an excellent writer and has excited her audience with new material that brings the message forward. Kudos to good work.
My work is different.

I have decided to start a mystery school. My friend Richard, who died in May, told me that I'm not a novelist, I'm a teacher. A young man at the Burning Man Festival I attended in 2008 told me the same thing. I've been trying to ignore the message I got. I guess it's time.

I want to teach what I know, what I've learned over a good long lifetime, from my studies, from my experience, from my children, from my granddaughters. But most of all from my guides. I've been in close contact with them for a long time. And they have gently told me the same thing.

In 1994 I was given a challenge. I was told that my work was to balance the relationship between the male and female forces of the planet. Everything I've done since then has been in preparation for taking on this work. Everything I've done has been doing this work.
I've studied it, I've experienced it at work, I've been in deep profound connection with it, I've learned what powers I'm dealing with and whatever I've done, Mary Magdalene has been close by watching over the process.

Now it's time to start teaching others.

The school will be called Mary Magdalene's Message. This blog will be the forum to start the school. I will available over a new email which I have established for this specific purpose. You will only recieve an email from me if you write to me on this email address first and request to be included on the mailing list. It will not be shared.

marymagdalenesmessage@gmail.com

The previous entries on this blog will stay here. They show some of my own progress along the way, some of the signposts where realizations have occured.

The first lesson will be:

"Love is a force to be reckoned with".

It will appear here in this forum by Friday.

Welcome to a new journey.

2011-06-20T14:07:00.003-05:00

I attended a webinar Sunday which gave me an enormous energy down load.

At first I didn't even sense the energy field we were working with and Simeon's information was filling out things I was familiar with. This field was extremely subtle, but when I invited it into my body, it filled me with a gentle, loving, healing smoke.

I am still trying to understand the mechanics of how this works.
It seems like the "gods" need to anchor their vibration into physical matter. They can only do this with humans, since we are the connection point between spirit and matter. And they can only go through us if we volunteer for the process.

The energy field that they need to anchor is hard for them to explain in terms that we would understand. They try their best, but if they told us how powerful and important this actually is, we would be afraid and run and hide. So they treat us like scared lion cubs, who have all the potential power of a full grown lion, but who have no idea of who they are.

So I am present through all the initiatory time where I feel as if I'm being calibrated to recieve the full load of what comes later. What we talk about is good, but the most important thing is that we are present and open to being informed.
When we open for meditation, and I freely invite the "gods" to use my vehicle, I feel their field flow through me from my head to the bottom of my spine. They connect with the spark of God I carry inside and let the new vibration spread through my electronic system, my meridians, my chacras and my tissues, bones and muscles. I feel their love for me connect with my love for creation and expand to vibrate in each cell of my body. Light is permeating through my whole system.

After the meditation, download, is over, I need to rest. This time I slept for two hours. I wake up, still seeing light behind my eyelids and shadows of light in the room.

Today I still feel drunk on spirit. I use the techniques I have for grounding energies, and wonder if I really want to. This state of consciousness is very pleasant, as long as you don't have anything you need to do that day. Daily life takes on as much importance as moving stones from here to there and back again. What is important is to keep this state of consciousness long enough for it to affect my environment, my neighborhood, my city. I tell myself this as I connect with Gaia at the center of the earth with a light beam and feel her create a cone shaped field aimed back at me. Light through stone. Spirit through matter. Golden lightfilled bodies vibrating love.

2011-04-04T14:39:00.000-05:00

I just got back from a trip to the South West with Dan. We started in Las Vegas, a place where amazing architecture and environments are all man made, on our trip to the canyons that are 5 million years old showing us the artwork of God and Nature over time.
We went to Zion, Bryce and Escalante national parks, all located along the same stretch of highway in southern Utah, but oh so different. In Zion we stayed at the lodge inside the park, hiked up lovely paths along rivers and waterfalls feeling our boots on the work of the CCC of the depression in the thirties. What an idea for rescuing the economy: putting people to work for the national parks building access for everybody to these landmarks.
Looking at the lines in the stones, showing the works of earthquakes and vulcanoes millions of years ago and the steady grinding of rivers over thousands of years, makes the fundamentalists claim that the world is 5,200 years old blow away in the wind. The mountains tell their own story. Their agelines compete with the ones of the trees telling us that whatever we do, however many short sighted ideas we come up with resulting in tremendous destruction, earth will just shake us off and continue. We might make ourselves extinct, but this planet will go on continuing her artwork.

2010-11-17T20:23:00.000-06:00

I have been away from my post for a while. Yes, I got married, yes, my family from Norway and all my children where gathered in Chicago for a couple of intense weeks. I also had my five year old grand daughter with me for two weeks, oh the stuff you learn from children, and I delivered her safe and sound back to her mother in California. It's been hectic.

I think as a response to some insanely busy months, I've gone into a retrograde together with the planet Venus. My egg shaped aura, usually extending about 3 ft. beyond my body, has felt stretched and expanded. I've walked inside a large Christmas decoration complete with mesmerizing lights and the dreamy twinkling eyes of a newborn.
At the same time, I've been given a time with a focus on death and dying. This spring I had to put my 87 year old aunt in a nursing home in Indiana. Her house and belongings were sold at an auction, and I felt as if we were pulling apart her finished life, even as she was quite alive in her new home. She cannot comprehend what has happened, and I've been advised not to tell her. My honest goodie-two-shoes girl wants to tell her the truth, and my new role as her guardian tells me that it would be cruel to try to explain it to her while she's starting to be happy in her new situation. The financial guardian advised me to arrange for a prepaid funeral for my aunt. I went to the funeral home where her son had been buried. We planned all the details, and all was well until the funeral director handed me the newspaper clip describing my cousins suicide. I went to the grave site, an unkempt, unassuming, flat stone under a tree, and cried. Finding a silk arrangement at a nearby Michael's, I left the flowers at the names of the mother and son, where his date of birth and death is engraved next to her lonely birth date, and went to visit my aunt at the nursing home, not being able to share anything I had done that day.

At the same time, my brother in law died, and we dealt with three days of funeral arrangements, this time with people who were well informed about his declining health and his own blessings to his family. Quite a beautiful exit. I felt his presence at the funeral and saw his loving goodbye to his wife.

This month my aunt in California died on her 91st birthday. She had organized her cremation, her funeral and her good friend as executive director of her estate. All I could do was bring flowers and give a little speech at the memorial service. This woman wanted to be in control to the very last. She was a surgical nurse in a MASH unit in Korea with the title of Captain. My aunt knew how to give orders, even after her death.

I could bless my older family members in their later years, and bless their passing. But when my good friend was diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease, I lost it. Over the last year I have watched him slowly deteriorate. I drove him to appointments, I supported him as he practiced walking, I took him to the concerts he still did every month as long as he could play his guitar. Losing the use of his legs, I could handle, if he could still use his hands. When the disease made it impossible for him to play, I totally lost it. The voice I had heard sing for 16 years was becoming a raspy ghostlike shadow of itself. I started helping him with his computer work. He taught me how to work with the Garage Band program, navigate among his poems and organize his hundreds of songs on I-tunes, all by verbal direction. I answered his emails, writing his poetic answers to his friends in Paris, in Belgium, on Hawaii and all over Chicago land. When he wanted to dictate a poem, I had to hide my tears as he starts: "How happy and harrowing life is, concluded the last mosquito of October."
I watch his three year old daughter run about trying to look happy in front of her father. She understands that the best gift she can give is to be a delightful child in the midst of all this suffering. But when she cries as she goes to bed at night, her sounds belong to a younger child, and she gives went to her own frustration and grief. All I can do is hug his wife, help him with his medication and help her get him out of the wheel chair and into his bed. It's a two person operation to stand him up, turn him around and lower him slowly down hoping not to hurt his arms.

One of his songs is called One Life. One phrase is "me into trees". He means to say that all of creation is interconnected, but I'm wondering if his body is turning into wood. His knees don't bend properly anymore. His fingers don't move. In the morning, I have to fight with his legs to get them to bend after a night of lying straight.

I'm writing this to illustrate the world I'm in right now. The universe is trying to teach me something about life and death. And marriage and relationships and children. What else is new? Isn't that the lessons of life in a nutshell? Maybe, but I seem to have been given a crash course over the last six months.

At the same time, as I'm exposed to all these real life situations; the approach to death, the choice to pass over, and the honoring of a long life with an exciting story, I'm experiencing my own life as if I live with a foot on the earth and one levitating in open air. I just need to close my eyes, and I am one with my being and everything else fades away. I open my eyes a moment later and face the fact that I'm cooking a meal, doing laundry or admiring a sunset. I pause and look intently at the trees, at the waves of Lake Michigan and pick up a stone and squeeze it between my fingers, just to pinch reality and feel what is really real.

And is it? Why aren't the colored light I see behind my eyelids given equal validity? Why can't I speak of the colors, the sounds, the music, the words, the feelings I have, all this which I experience with my inner senses, which take me on these trips to beautiful places of peace, tranquility and comfort? What is it? I'm not conjuring it with my ever so lively imagination, if so, I would never be surprised at what I see, and the experience would be limited to what I can imagine. What I see and experience is always beyond what I could have made up. The words I hear, the answers I get when I pose a question to the ethers, is always surprising.

So I bury the dead. I make sure my aunt with dementia is well taken care of. I help my friend through his illness, and cry as his abilities are diminishing while I try to give his genius mind an outlet through my hands. And I continue on my own travels between the worlds, with one foot firmly planted on planet Earth while I explore what I can only see when I close my eyes.

Yes, we are mystics without monasteries. Where is the abbey where I could have asked an abbess like Theresa of Avila what it all means? Where is the monastery where the daily routine of prayers and meals and tasks would structure my days for me and ground my focus to earthly deeds, all the while allowing my mind to ask my questions and my heart to find God?

2010-05-09T13:34:00.000-05:00

I just heard an interview of Kathleen McGowan by William Henry. She wrote "The Expected One", "The Book of Love" and is now coming out with "The Poet Prince". I admire her writing tremendously, both because they are wellplotted and exciting reads, but also for what she promotes. She is also writing Mary Magdalene's message. I admire her research and her courage to find connections and propose difficult controversial questions. Kathleen McGowan inspires me to contiue my own work.

Where am I now in my own research? Amongst a kitchen renovation, my good man on crutches, my aunt in the nursing home and the planning of a wedding, I'm reading alchemy. Or solving soduko puzzles. I'm also finding that I'm not called to write right now, I'm called to get my reality in order.

So all I can say I'm doing is surrendering to my situation, and picking up a broom.

This must be a stage in the develpment of a patient soul.
And I guess I need some work here.
I have another patient soul next to me, and he wants to marry me on June 26th.

We are planning a wedding ceremony on top of a labyrinth. This powerful pattern has been part of our life together, and was where we met in the first place. We have built many labyrinths together, and walked even more in many interesting places. Dan and I spent five days in Chartres in 2007, studying the ancient labyrinth from 1201 before I went on my pilgrimage in Southern France looking for her footprints. And because I had already steeped myself in the effect of this powerful symbol, I found her.

I found her and I found her husband. I found the AND between them. After that incredible journey I could never talk to just one of them. I always meet the two of them together, in the spiritual partnership they promoted and achieved. That was at the center of their teaching. And the Cathars continued this wisdom. No wonder the church didn't like them. No wonder this has always been called the worst of heresies.

The spiritual partnership in a husband and wife team is powerful. It promotes health and independence. It acknowledges the importance of both genders and see the powers of God expemplified in the forces of masculine and feminine in their union.

Mariam and Yeshua were teachers of a spiritual technology we know little of today. Intuitively I can see a field of science not yet explored. It starts with human consiousness, human intention and imagination, and uses that as a force field to create.

It is April, it is spring.

2010-04-25T10:54:00.000-05:00

Dear friends,

It has been a while since I wrote here. I have had to move my aunt to a nursing home, which took six months of work with lawyers, bankers, doctors, church members and social workers. She is now situated and I have had to take a deep look at aging and how we insist on people relating to their daily life in acceptable forms. My aunt is now safe to live in her version of reality, which includes a lot of stories that are not factually true, but nevertheless true to her. The nurses are encouraging me to let her stay there. I'm struggling with whether it is my duty to set her strait, bring her into the accepted truths of reality, or leave her there and simply agree when she tells me of her brothers tragic death, that her car is stolen and that she's going home in two weeks. I know perfectly well that her brother died of old age, it was her son that died tragically, her car was taken away when she drove on the wrong side of the street and that she'll never see her lovely home again. The nurses tell me to relax. They call it "Join her journey". I think it is a beautiful way of understanding that we all see the world through our own chosen color of lenses.

So I go to my garden for solace. I plan for a lovely display of flowers this summer, especially for the garden party in June. I find my old friends as they awake from their slumber, and I speak to the roses who all need a little trim. Dan looks out the window and sees me walking among my green family knowing that I'm happy. He understands when I go to the garden centers and come back inspired and dreamy eyed talking about the just discovered old fashioned dusty pink roses, trimmed to small trees, that would look fantastic on the deck, and complete the Old English Garden look I'm trying to accomplish.

I speak to the plants and I hear their answer. While moving the Mogu Pine from the line of deciduous bushes to it's own corner of the lawn, I hear him comment about the old biddies he's leaving. The Dogwood and the Forsythia are such fussy ladies, he's truly grateful to be in his own space. Especially since I'm putting in a Spirea as an addition to the group. He can just hear her join in with the others talking about the lacy project of creating the most attractive blooms on their branches. I wanted to call him Nicolas in honor of being a pillowy version of a Christmas tree. He would have none of it. His name is Ansgar, of old viking traditions. I bend my head and honor this very conscious plant who is gracing my garden.
Can I talk about this as part of my conscious reality? Can I say that I can actually hear the plants? When I weed around them, there is a different sound from the nasty Ground Ivy when I pull it out, then if I inadvertently catch the long line of a Periwinkle, which I truly want to keep. The Periwinkle will give me a high pitched eeek, while the Ground Ivy will hardly have a sound at all while accepting it's fate of being thrown in the garbage. I can feel it in my fingers as I work. The eeek will make me stop before I pull the roots out and make me gently put the long branch back while I apologize.
Dan says that I have green fingers. I say I have developed a relationship with my green friends. My daughter thinks I'm cute and eccentric. Who is following my journey?

The garden party among the greens this summer needs to be romantic. Dan and I are getting married. After four years of living together, after our combined six children and six grand kids have gotten used to the idea, we are deciding that it's time. The plans are coming along. My lovely daughter is my wedding consultants and introduces herself as the "daughter of the bride".

We have agreed to mention the wedding in Canaan during the ceremony. We don't have to say exactly who got married. And it will be up to the daughter of the bride this time to check that we have enough wine, and to send her six foot tall brother to the liquor store to get more if needed. The miracle this time is the event itself. This will also be a reunion of family from as far west as Hawaii to as far east and north as Norway, all to join our celebration in Chicago.

Welcome to the new year.

2010-01-08T20:41:00.000-06:00

Dear friends and readers. I am back in Chicago. Now without walking sticks and driving a car! I'm also ready to write more here and stay in touch with you.

The new year, 2010, has started. After the portals of 9/9, 10/10, 11/11 and 12/12 along with the solstice and the Mercury retrograde, I think we can say we all feel sufficiently bombarded by cosmic energy. The love bubble between 11/11 and 12/12 was a delight, and the Mercury reverse action brings out the worst in us. I had lovely days with the man I love, and have behaved like a shrew these last weeks. Anybody else?

But lightheartedness aside. We are in the last of times before the end of the world as we know it, to quote a famous song. We see it in the politics of this country, where issues are polarized to the extreme. The arguments have come to a point where the presidents statements seem clear and concise and pointed, sharp and beyond discussion. Whereas the comments from the opposing side seems full of lies, inane and not addressing the subject at hand. The extreme points are not just different in policies and opinion, it seems like they speak different languages, or send their messages through different frequencies. Have you experienced that? You're talking to someone and it feels like you are engaged in different conversations. The words you say tangent their planet and continue out at a different angle. And however much you try to understand what they mean, their statements don't make any sense to you in your framework.

Is this the situation of the have's and the havenot's? Is this what it means? That regular people seem to function according to different laws of physics, different value systems and communicate in different frequencies, even though they're standing in the same reality looking at the same scenery.
Is this what it means to coexist in different dimensions? It seems to be what is happening around us at the moment. This is a sign of the last days of time.

The twin flame of Yeshua and Mariam has returned to us. This represents the balanced relationship between male and female in its ideal form. This is the flame we all need to develop and welcome inside to become balanced individuals within. And it is the return of the proper values on the earth. Please welcome this concept back in our midst.

There is very little time left. The best gift we can give the world is to become a healthy happy human being. It's no small task. This means to go to work looking at what you carry with you. What national and racial issues reside within? Find your history. It's written in your DNA and it would help you if you knew what it is and what you're working with.

"Your biology is your biography."
- Caroline Myss.

This refers to what you carry from earlier generations. What did your ancestors experience and what did they do with it? How do these attitude show up in your life? Are you excusing them or working with them?

This is the work at hand. Clean up our DNA. According to scriptures, the sins of our forefathers are carried for seven generations. That means that for seven generations before us and seven generations after us we send our actions and attitudes out following time lines and successions of genetic material. This also means that when you identify a bad habit, maybe something you feel you inherited, and work to eradicate it out of your system, you are affecting 14 generations with your decision. This works across time and space. If you clean something out of your system, it will relieve your ancestor of their burden, and it will clear the head of the future ones. So the greatest work we can do is to clean up our own insides right now, right here. Listen to your own thought process and stop thoughts that are not supporting the progress of love in the world.

Oh, I can wax poetically ad nauseum about this, get all excited and feel that I'm doing a great job. And then I visit the relatives for the holidays. And I realize my own limitations, how bigoted I am on my own monastic island, and how little I understand of the love they're trying to show me. And I start all over again.

But this is the work. This is the understanding for 2010. Find out what you carry with you, what your frequency is broadcasting right out of the cell material of your body. What kind of walking television program are you showing as you move about in the world? Maybe you'd like to change the channel.

So what can you do?

The twin flame also refers to the relationship we establish between this world and the other side. And as this world is populated with many people of different origin and with different job descriptions and intentions, so is the other side. Everything is not angels or your sweet grandma. There are many levels of teachers, guides, and spirits floating about out there. They respond to frequency. So if you're vibrating with a whole collection of disgruntled ancestors, you will be communicating with entities who respond to that. If you vibrate on a cleaner octave, you show off a different sort of light combination and you will attract guides who can work with that. "Hey, your green is well developed. Come join our crew."

It is time to take responsibility for our relationship with our own frequency and what we attract to ourself. Bring up the light. Brighten up. Turn up the dimmers. Lift off the bushel and find your own candle glowing bright underneath. Have loving sex, what do we call it, make love, and create fireworks for the angels to enjoy. They love it when we create more love in the world.

So this is my pledge for the new year. I want to create more love in the world. I want to clear away negativity in my system, forgive my bitter and angry forefathers, and love all my difficult female relatives, past and future. That includes the nasty old aunts I knew who are now dead, the difficult old aunts I have to deal with now, my strict mother and impeccable mother in law, my cynical sophisticated daughter and my lovely grand daughters. It also includes the ancestral mothers who struggled through wars and famines and gave birth to dead children. They all live inside me. They all live in every cell of my body and I hear them speak in every embittered remark I make when I feel chided and not seen the way I see myself. I like to think of myself as loving and caring, and I shudder when I hear my own icy, metallic voice, cutting like a knife at the man I love, because he noticed that what I just said had no thread of love in it. I scream at him because he's right. And when I'm done yelling, I fall down in a chair like a punctured balloon, a useless piece of deflated rubber that has lost it's elasticity, and hear the echo from the walls calling out like my ancestors with the force of my own voice. I'm embarrassed as I see the frogs on the floor, the toads and reptiles, and not the cute Disney ones, but slimy yucky things that leave a shiny path of wet slime behind. They are the manifestation of what I have created in the room. My words have created garbage covering the floor.

It's time to find a broom. It's time to apologize. It's time to make amends, blame the Mercury in retrograde which makes us all show our worst sides, and own up to every ribbit squeal still lingering. It's time to call for our guides and angels and ask for better days, better advice, better choices in this new year.

The sun is shining. After ten inches of snow in Chicago and gloomy weather for weeks on end, there are sun rays reflecting blue on the surface of the snow. The sun clears my face as I sweep black dust out the door. The wind clears my brain. Did every ancestral scream get expressed? Did every frog find it's voice? Or maybe I don't need to feed flies of uncertainty and negativity to any more frogs. Maybe I can starve them out of existence by simply not giving them anything to feed on. My goal will be to live frog free. I'm tired of cleaning up slime from the floor.

I'll try to catch the flies before they feed a frog.

Wencke.

I'm in Norway!

2009-08-10T18:15:00.000-05:00

My pilgrimage is taking me to Norway. My manuscript about Mary Magdalene is complete. I need an agent, a publisher and a publisist. I trust that the Universe, which has provided well for me so far, will present this support system to me as well. I'm now onto my next project.

You might wonder why there are nine months since my last entry. I celebrated Christmas in Hawaii with my son, Sebastian, and his family, celebrating the birth of my second grand child. In January we were involved in a car accident where I was badly harmed. Everybody else escaped with minor scrapes. I spent a month in hospitals and rehab in Honolulu with several broken bones and a broken neck. My biggest worry was weather I would be able to write again. Gradually I regained my abilities, and can now function fairly normally. I've gained an inch in height! That's good. But it's only on my left side. That's a problem. So I'm here in Norway recieving some physical therapy and orthopedic evaluation. Socialized medicine is the only way to go in our time.

After I stopped taking heavy duty pain pills, I found that my head still functions, and I can still read. Also, I have another project begging for my attention. I've been wanting to start my next trilogy. I want to go forward in time and see what happened to 'Mary Magdalene's Message' a thousand years later. Whom did she teach? Who remembered? Who claimed to own the heritage Yeshua and Mariam left behind? Where do I start looking for information?

I've started digging. And as usual, the story takes me in a different direction than what I expected. I looked for the secret teachings of the Cathars. I looked for the secret rituals of the Temple Knights. I looked for why the Merovingian kings of France claimed divine right to the throne. Most of the information you can find about these people is in the forced confessions their enemies have tortured out of them. What I find are some contorted descriptions hissed in agony. The descriptions of these people are also presented in in a negative way. And the only scriptures about them are from their accusers, which mostly amounts to the catholic church. Ack. They're still not scoring high in my book.

I decided to try another route. The pentagram around Rennes-le-Chateau has been described beautifully by Henry Lincoln. His next project was on Bornholm, a Danish island between Denmark and Sweeden. There are 12 churches on this tiny place, and they also form a complicated geometric pattern. Who put this much effort into placement of little stone churches and why? The next book that I ran across talks abou the pentagram of Norway! Now they had my attention.

It turns out that the placement of holy sites in Norway in a threehundred year long program, was to establish a geometric pattern for people's worship. So if all the people in the churches that formed a rightangled triangle went to church on sunday and sung their hymns at the same time, the sound would resonate in the land itself. It would tune the mountains, since the sounds would reverberate in lines and angles that related to eachother and would richochet across the landscape. Are you still with me?

Now this was too wild to pass up. I had to check this out. So Dan and I drove over the singing mountains of Jotunheimen to Bergen, looking for stavechurches. We found Borgund, which showed me a lot. Later I went over Dovre mountain to Trondheim, searching for the sainted king Olav. And I found him.

Norway, the country of my birth, holds some interesting secrets of it's own. I'm still walking in the path of Mary Magdalene. I'm still a pilgrim. And as long as I stay open, there is no end to where the Universe is taking me.

Wencke.

2008-11-23T23:39:00.000-06:00

This blog carries Her name. I have been covering some other topics, promoting some books that are important to me, and I feel it's time to get back to the main reason I started this blog in the first place.

Throughout my research for the novel about her life, "Rituals in Sacred Stone", which I'm hoping to make available next spring, I immersed myself in her time frame. To my amazement, I found myself surrounded by a profound understanding of the balance between the masculine and feminine presence in everything in creation. At her time, the mystery schools were in function, promoting knowledge that has since been erased from the surface of the earth and from the collective unconscious.

The mystery schools would make sure the regular public were reminded several times a year of the presence of the Goddess and the God and that their union was necessary for all growth in nature. They would show them that on every eighth winter solstice the star of Venus and the Sun would unite in one momentous bright light, signalling a new conception, a new era. The stories of Isis and Osiris would be enacted at the festivals, conceptualizing life, death, resurrection and rebirth, and anchoring that as truths. The Priest/King represented the relationship between the people and the gods, and the Priestess/Queen represented the people and their land. Watching them unite in holy union told the people that all was well with their world. The power of unity had been restored between the land and their Gods, all was well. The sexual act had once again honored the Gods and ensured balance in nature. Lovers would feel they were honoring the Gods as well, by repeating what they'd seen done as a ritual. Arousal was seen as a way to enhance your life force, the life force in nature and on the planet.

In our time, we're a far cry from seeing sexuality as a way of honoring the Gods. But then again, I run across something like this, and I realize there is hope. And that the Gods have a tremendous sense of humor.

http://www.globalorgasm.org/

There is a reason why I had to promote Kamala and Dez's book. There is a reason why I wrote "Sex on the Altar" and why I'm working on the second volume; "Sex in the Crypt". I believe Mary Magdalene was well versed in this subject. Both in the physical sense with her beloved, but also as a concept guarding nature and the balance in creation.

We are being presented with a big challenge from the Universe at Large. Earth is lagging behind, and it's time we got our act together. (Pun intended). The rest of the Galaxy is tired of watching us stumble around in our self imposed ignorance, insisting self righteously on our right to stay uninformed and refusing to take on responsibilities. The time is now, and it's urgent.

At the same time as I can scold humanity for claiming their right to stay in infancy, I also see multiple proof that we're growing up. There is work being done to balance the Earth and earn our membership in the Galaxy as mature members.

This is work done in Her name. This is work which is so basic, so hugely important and at the same so subtle, it is hard to get a grip on and even harder to implement. To bring the Earth back to balance is no small task. It takes on many forms, all expression of more love for our planet and the creation we're all part of.

The message I get from Her, from Mary Magdalene, who's voice has been guiding my work for quite some time, is a call for us to assist in the rebirth of the feminine from the center of the earth. Out of the earth herself, comes the feminine of creation, who has been hiding, and who can blame her, for thousands of years. She's looking for her husband, her bridegroom, her man, and is hoping to find a more mature and loving version of him than the one who watched with eyes of steel as she turned into stone a long time ago.

We have suffered under immature images of both archetypes. Neither have shown us their grown up side. Where could we look to find something to emulate, an ideal to look up to?

Well, since the ideals are missing, we have to try to grow up ourselves. We need to find the expressions of the more mature person, the more mature inner feminine and masculine, and then we have to marry the two.

I see Mary Magdalene nodding her head. Yes, marry the two. They've hated each other for so long, bring them to love. She's been petrified, literally become rocks and mountains, and he's wondered where she went and not understood why he's alone. Creation has been without a mother, and the father didn't think it was his job to take care of it, so the garden of creation has turned into a jungle of despair. It's time for the parents to take care of their lost children, weed the garden, mend their buildings and replant some fruit trees. But first they have to get along.

Can I suggest a time for courtship? The art of flirting needs to be reinstated. How about some romantic dinners at candle lit tables, exchanging compliments and sincere admiration? How would that be for our lost archetypes, who are starting over after a long and painful separation?

How about giving them some hints of how to go from flirting to touching each other? If our two inner heroes are going to get married, they might want to be a little more familiar with each other, don't you think? I can see them stretching out a hand and touching a soft cheek, following a round shoulder and discovering that skin speaks. It speaks volumes, when all you do is breathe and love.

I wish our two inner heroes well. I know we'll have many internal weddings this coming year. And I know She will be thrilled, and so will her chosen One. I can hear Him laugh in delight.

Wencke.

2008-11-20T01:57:00.000-06:00

I was recently told that we're in a special portal of time where we communicate easier with the higher powers. It's a portal where it's important to acknowledge our close relationship and allow them to speak to us. "Please grab a pencil and some paper and write down their message". With a twinge of scepticism, I can't deny it, I'm not of the mushy kind, I gathered what I needed and sat down.

They were so gentle. Speaking to me the way I address a small child, "Hello, little one". Most of what they said was acknowledgements of the journey I've already traveled. And some lovely encouragement of where I'm going. Where we all are going. They're telling us that the balance has shifted. Light is winning over dark. They can see it from their level, and they're thanking us for our dedicated work. It's quite colorful, especially when we create our own internal fireworks.

My first book out is about healing. We need to elevate the understanding of our bodies, evolve the language of sensuality, and bring our lovemaking to the level of sanctity. Sexuality has to return to the Temples for the global healing to take place. There is so much healing waiting to happen in this enormous field of understanding. And there are so many good people, wanting to show their love for the Divine in the Human and the Human in the Divine, working to heal the planet we live on.

I just discovered this beautiful book that is dedicated to bring this change about. Our bedrooms need to become our sanctuaries. Our holy places need to include our most universal body language. Right now it is offered with many extra bonuses, which are worth checking out. Here's the link:

http://www.1shoppingcart.com/app/?af=873582

My friend Lakshmi gets the credit for this one. The book is written by Kamala Devi and Baba Dez Nichols and called "Sacred Sexual Healing; The Shaman Method of Sex Magic". The balance we're working towards is coming towards us, the new expression of the masculine and feminine in their divine form is becoming tangible.

This is what the gods wanted me to continue to promote. This is my work, whether I'm writing fairytales for grownups, historical novels or plays. The God and Goddess are finding each other. They're flirting in the forest at this point. We still need to ready the garden for them.

Wencke.

My book.

2008-10-05T19:53:00.000-05:00

"Sex on the Altar" is now available on Amazon.com. Click on the image of the book to the left to see the listing.

"Iconographic and sublime, "Sex on the Altar" by Wencke Braathen is first in the Adventures of Sam and Emily series that levels the playing field in the battle of the sexes—and sex. Wise, wicked, and witty, this debut fantasy fiction is rich in style, prose, lyrics and plot. It encourages constructive discipline and human affirmation—all we do matters. All we do is what we are, as a matter of prophecy and intention.

God has a problem. Mankind does not seem to get it and it is their fault the Queen of Heaven has been sucked into the Earth. There just hasn’t been enough devotion —not enough love. A heartsick God is willing to pull out all the stops and enlists Isis, the Egyptian goddess, a willing plotter, to bring the Queen back. In turn, Isis chooses Emily, a middle-aged woman, to work through, and becomes a smaller version of herself sitting on Emily’s shoulder. As things go haywire, Emily develops a relationship with Sam, and with a gift from the gods, they become expert lovers, which is enough fuel to wake the Queen of Heaven from her slumber in the center of the earth. Isis later calls upon Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene to start a dandelion campaign to reinstate balance of creation. When Emily suggests Christ and Mary Magdalene jump down from a crucifix and a sculpture, the Christian icons are free to roam like teenagers in love. As they unite in Emily’s body, the Queen of Heaven is able to connect with God who reaches down and pulls her up from the underworld. Immensely serene and shocking, this debut is absolutely stunning!"

BookSurge

The Queen of Heaven has returned, and God has welcomed her back after their long separation.

2008-09-19T00:05:00.000-05:00

I've been away from my blog for a while. I've been on an adventure with many chapters. It took me across the country and put 6000 extra miles on my small car. Leaving Chicago, I went west across the green plains, through the dry hot deserts and to the wet and misty Oregon coastline. From there I went south, along sacred mountains and through thick forests, before I again entered the desert as I watched in wonder how the landscape changed.

I ended up in the bed of dried lake. It's now called Black Rock Desert, since it hasn't seen water for a long time. Nevertheless, 50.000 enthusiastic souls came to this place for the Burning Man Festival. They brought their own water, along with a tireless desire to create something new. Thousands of tents and RV's came up, and they all disappered again, leaving no trace that there had once been a whole city there existing for only a week. A city with a post office, three clinics, a fire department, a central town square, bars and dancehalls, several temples and an effigy representing mankind visible for miles.

Some wanted to experience the freedom to have the biggest party in history. Bless their hearts, they got it. Some came to express their creativity in ways that would be hard to explain in the city. How do you tell your neighbors that you just have this urge to make your car look like a snail? Or that today you need to wear nylon furred boots, your best bikini and a utility belt? Well, at Burning Man, that outfit was almost common.
Some people came to show their artwork. Sculptures arrived on the flatbed of trucks and needed a crane to lift them off and place them carefully on the playa.
Some people came to create new solutions for the problems that ail our world. Burners without Borders were there, telling us where they'd been and where they were needed next. Entheon Village were making living spaces out of containers for trucks, experimenting with immediate housing for catastrophic situations. Temples were created to honor the many religions of our planet, and to welcome a New Day where we all could come to the same Temple in reverence.

I was part of the crew creating Pantheogenesis Temple. It was dedicated to the Male and Female side of creation, and ultimately to their Unification as One Deity. It consisted of seven different structures: two yurts, a tent garage, a tall dome, a small circus tent and a geodesic dome. The interior Male of a hundred people constructed the spaces. The interior Female of the same people gave the spaces different purpose and character. I watched, as these good people evolved from an expression of our society's conflicted interpretation of male and female, and turned into a new interpretation filled with respect and cooperation that could only be divinely inspired. The temple went through its stages as it created the different spaces starting with the Earth entrance, going through the Heart space before dividing into the Male and Female yurts, all decorated as people brought donated items. My favorite was the God and Godess dome with an elaborate throne for each aspect and chacra colored fabrics cascading down along its inside walls. I had the honor of sitting on the throne for the Goddess as I did my lecture on Mary Magdalene.

But I spent most of my time in the Unity Dome. Both because I was asked to help do textile draperies there, which is my other artform, and because it became my favorite place to be.
If you try to visualize the unity between the God and the Goddess of creation, what would it look like? I don't know if I really had any preconceived ideas, I just knew that the color theme was white, with gold and silver accents, and that I would get fabrics to work with.
I had been given eight small structures to drape. They were small tents attached to square bases intended for meditation, and were circling a large sculpture in white and small mirrors resembling a lotus. I started with some white sheers and placed it over the flexible poles creating the igloo shaped domes. Soon they had white sheer with golden swirls, and golden ties resembling the head gear of Arabian royalty. I got inspired, and hung white buntings along the walls hiding the ropelights. Lovely banners were placed, hanging down from the ceiling together with a large white balloon covered in shimmering tulle. One woman came in and said, "I wondered how we would bring in the Eye of God. See, there is the eyeball." I nodded.

For two days I placed safetypins through fabric, fastening fine silks to the rough metals holding up the geodesic dome and it's white plastic cover. White parachutes covered the sandy floor, in a futile attempt to keep the playa dust out. The more I worked, the more I felt that the space resembled a wedding reception. I giggled to myself. What were we creating? This was supposed to be the most serious space of the whole temple complex!

The answer collected itself through a day, when several people came and visited the dome. The first one was a rabbi, looking older than Metusalah, or rather like Santa Claus in tie-dye, who sat down in a meditation dome and read from a small ancient leather book. He explained to me that it was psalms from the Thalmud, and I invited him to bless the space. He walked between each of the eight units and sang his psalms. I listened in awe as I continued my work.
The next one was Soma from the Krishna camp. I had talked to him before, and invited him to bless the space from his tradition. The Buddhist songs sounded interstingly similar to the Jewish. A Tibetan singing bowl was carried into the dome, and I asked the young man to make it sing and give its frequency to the dome. A woman calling herself Rainbow Jaguar offered to do a Mayan blessing, which I welcomed. She intoned deep sounds and brought rattles and incense as she circled the dome several times making sure she established the right vibration. I learned later that the young man from New York with the disarming smile, was a Sufi master, and had blessed the space several times through out the day. I was glad to know that the Muslims were also represented. A young man dressed in the white robes of a Monk looked at me with eyes of blue velvet and asked with a voice full of love if he could bless the place as well. I'll never know what faith he came from, but it didn't matter. He emanated peace, and called himself Brown Rabbit.

When the photographer from India came, and asked permission to take pictures of a young couple inside the dome for their engagement pictures, I silently welcomed another blessing. The young man was dressed like a Temple Knight, and he seemed Celtic with his pale complection and long dark hair. The lovely young woman was like a daughter of Gaia herself. Everytime I looked at her, I saw another cultural strand in her hair, in her features and graceful movements. The photographer posed them, first for charming presentable pictures. Then he wanted to create something memorable just for them. I made myself blend in with my textiles, as I watched him place them both inside my first completed meditation dome in a tantric position. With the young man sitting crosslegged and the woman on his lap clasping her legs behind his back, I could see how their energy lines would match up and create an empowering unity between them. It would also balance their own chacras and make a moment of shared fireworks for them. I admired how the Hindu photographer gently suggested this, knowing that the Lingam is a holy symbol in his culture, and how the young couple easily complied, eager to learn something new. I stood on the sidelines, hoping I was invisible enough, and understood why the Unity Dome of the God and Godess resembled a wedding reception.

With blessings from all the religious traditions I could think of, the King and Queen of Heaven have now returned to their rightful places. Their special cloud in Heaven resembles a large white balloon covered in sheers, and the mists look like tulle with the golden glow from ropelights creating halos. Their throne is made from plywood cut in intricate patterns, and their backdrop has the colors of the rainbow, draped in flowing fabrics fastened with a safetypin to a point in space.

Wencke.

The pioneer spirit.

2008-08-06T00:06:00.000-05:00

I'm on a journey that will culminate in the Burning Man Festival in Nevada. Right now I'm in the fresh air of Wyoming looking forward to admire the Grand Tetons tomorrow. I have many reasons for coming here. Old masters inhabit the mountains. I need to visit mine.

On my way from Illinois, I came across a museum dedicated to the first frontiers, the ones traveling in covered prairie wagons, ready to put a plow down in their own land and finally feed their families. The museum was in Nebraska. The building stretches like a covered bridge across the highway. Inside the classy log cabin, an escalator leads to the exhibits inside the bridge. On the way up, you meet the life sized figure of the pregnant prairie woman in her bonnet. Her eager son is scrambling up the hillside towards the father beckoning the visitors to come and see. Their daughter is sitting on a rock nibbling on an apple, reading a book with her cat in her elbow. Below, an explorer next to an Indian are watching, also wondering what story the father wants to share. All the figures are depicted with unusual sensitivity to detail and authenticity. I arrive at the top and feel I have met old friends.

Inside, we first see the struggling families behind their wagons. My headphones are speaking the words of the many women who wrote diaries from their experience. They buried their husbands and children and went on. They gave birth to new generations in a new country. The young girls talked about the prairie library; all the books that were left behind by the travelers who needed to lighten their load and reluctantly left precious volumes in neat stacks, hoping that somebody else would have strength and room to take them further. Young boys wrote about how family members died around them and suddenly they had to take on responsibilities way beyond their years. But they did, and they endured and they survived. And they built this country from the prairie grass up.

The railroad came. The pony express only lasted for eighteen months. Then a new form of information distribution took form; the telegraph. Not long after came the automobile and the chuck wagon got translated into round cornered diners in red and silver.

At first I was offended that these newfangled inventions were displayed right after the sensitive and beautiful description of the pioneers. Then I realized that all these things appeared right after each other in history. And each period lasted for a very short time. This young country was eager to expand, to learn, to bring in the new.

I took in the spirit of the pioneers, of the inventors and promoters of the train which changed the country with the same explosive speed as the impact of the Internet in our time. I felt the openness to new things, the hunger for the latest invention that could improve daily life.

Then I asked, where is this spirit now? What happened to the spirit of embracing the new, looking eagerly for the latest in new thought?

I'm traveling. In the cafeteria I see overweight, over TV stimulated people, who look kind and friendly, but I don't see the spark of new ideas in them. The "sparky" people might not be the ones coming to this museum, but I'm nevertheless looking for them. I need to know that they exist.

I've heard of new inventions that have been hindered from coming to the market or even to consumers attention. Inventions that would challenge us to understand the value of living with free energy, cars that run on compost, or refined metals that can cure anything.

I guess I'm still looking for material goods to prove that we're pioneers. If it can't be planted, or take you somewhere, what good is it?

As I went outside and walked among the prairie plants, it occurred to me that I was looking in the wrong arenas. Yes, these new inventions are important, and sooner or later most of them will come to our attention.

I suddenly understood that we're pioneers of a different kind. We are pioneers of spirit. Give it to America to come up with a new idea and implement it quickly, they've done it before, they'll do it again. The Goddess found a place to speak.
How heavy is your covered wagon? What odd combination of people travel with you? What are you bringing to share where you arrive? Are you the new blacksmith in town, or the schoolteacher? Or are you the one who knows how to heal the afflictions of modern life, the yoga teacher, the nutritionist? Or maybe you know how to hold more light, making it expand beyond your body, and watch the darkness disappear. There are many ways to contribute.

The goddess is returning, and she's speaking through all of us. A new band of pioneers are pulling wagons across the country. The weight of the wagons consists of old ideas, old grudges held for too long, narrow mindedness and family ghosts overdue to be exposed. Along the way to the land of plenty, the wagons get emptied of unnecessary baggage. The lighter wagons find their way first. Do you recognize yourself? Are we the A team returned?

I looked at the figure of the pregnant woman struggling with her skirts, and knew I had been her. I looked at the young boy, and knew I had been his mother. I looked at the girl with the book and knew I had been her. And I looked at the handsome explorer and knew I had invited him into my hut, and shared a meal and my bed with him.

I also know that I'm helping people in this complicated society we live in, people with a new attitude, with a new vision, embracing a new day. I'm also releasing a child of my creativity, which I hope will inspire new hope as we watch the first sun rays arrive over the mountain and we can one more time say Yes!

Yes. To a new time, to new thoughts, to a new era.
Hello A-team, I recognize you.

Wencke.

July 22nd, Feast day of Mary Magdalene.

2008-07-22T12:50:00.000-05:00

Today is the dedicated day of Mary Magdalene. She is revered on this day by the Catholic, the Greek Orthodox, the Anglican and the Lutheran churches. Many churches will have a festival in her honor.

Up until 1969, Mary Magdalene was presented as a prostitute and portrayed as the perpetual penitent. There are numerous artwork made of her, more than many other prominent biblical figures, and for hundreds of years they all depicted her in deep repentance for her sins. To identify her, she is still accompanied by the skull, the alabaster jar or the book. Her image was used repeatedly to remind people to repent, or to prove that the priests, bishops and popes regretted their human frailties. In 1969 it was quietly announced by the Pope that she was not a prostitute, and should not be considered the same as the fallen woman described in a couple of sentences in the New Testament.

In Provence, every other church has her as their patron saint. She is revered as a wise teacher who knew the gospel of Christ and taught it to their people. The Cathars in the Languedoc area claimed that they were taught by Mary Magdalene and Jesus Christ, teaching as a team. They also claimed that they had been taught an esoteric secret, a powerful alchemical process perhaps?, something that would question the validity of the dogmas of the Catholic Church. For this knowledge they were killed in the most brutal genocide in modern history, next to the Holocaust. We still haven't found any proofs of the wisdom of the Cathars. There are numerous hints and suggestions, but people are still searching the ruins of their long gone opulent castles once filled with art, literature and music, profound religious practices and equally profound scientific investigations.

So we can honor her with candles, songs and flowers for our hair. We can read all we can find of new excellent research revealing more of her time frame, her culture and the legends she left behind. We can sit by a body of water and contemplate her mysteries.

Why is she called the mistress of water in Aquitania? Why does she hold up a red egg in many depictions? Why are the churches dedicated to her placed on top of older holy sites dedicated to ancient goddesses, always with a well close by? Why is the water considered healing in certain places, and not in others? Is there a way to change the quality of water so that it causes a change in frequencies in the bodies that it touches?

The mystery schools are gone. So much knowledge is lost. So much knowledge has been systematically eliminated from the collective human mind.

My body is made of water. Water flows, runs, mixes, evaporates, rains, has been consumed and eliminated by people through millennium. Somewhere in the annals of time, the water that composes me, must have touched her world.
I need to go inwards. I need to find that molecule that holds the wisdom contained in a hydrogen and oxygen combination. Through my intuition, I should be able to unlock the code.

The water molecule opened up to a different world. The minute sphere of a molecule, became the size of a planet. I stepped into a glass bubble of new possiblities, where different laws of physics rule. In a frequency of a higher caliber, everything vibrates differently and takes on a different meaning. A multicolored light is bathing this world, love in its purest expression. The dimensions are open here. You can easily walk between the world of the angels and the world of humans. Enjoy the forests and waterfalls as a human, and enjoy timeless travel and instant information coded in light, as an angel. Enjoy the loving union possible between humans, combined with the energy flows created by an angel, and experience the sublime multicolored light inside your own body. Let it ignite the three points inside your head, and sense the waterfall of soma, the libation of the gods, flowing to every cell of your divine humanity.

Wishing you love and light on this auspicious day,
Wencke.

Please check out the blog of my fellow researcher Joan Norton, author of "The Mary Magdalene Within".
There is a link there to an incredible crop circle which appeared today.
Heaven and Earth are truly celebrating.

http://blog.marymagdalenewithin.com/2008/07/22/magdalenes-feast-day-crop-circle.aspx

The Temple in the Mountain.

2008-07-09T03:30:00.000-05:00

I just listened to an interview with Henry Lincoln from Rennes-le-Chateau on Andrew Gough's Arcadia website. Good to hear his voice again, I learned so much from him last summer.
On the same website, there are references to all sorts of interesting things with a ring of mystery to them, and clips from the movie "Bloodline". I have yet to see the movie, it hasn't made it to Chicago yet, but I seem to be stumbling into it quite often. On the snippets of the movie I got to watch, there is a reference to a temple hidden in the mountain of Rennes-le-Chateau. It probably predated Jesus by many hundreds of years, and was maybe created by the Jews of the first diaspora. This is said by people interviewed in the film.

While I was in France, visiting the Rennes-le-Chateu area, I had already researched LIncoln's material claiming there is a geomatric pattern in the landscape. There are five mountain tops surrounding a plateau with a tall hill in the center. The lines between the mountains make a pentagram, following the lines of Venus as she draws her beautiful patterns across the sky. I walked a lot, crisscrossing the land, eventually finding the hill and climbing it. The top of the hill is a meeting point for many lines in the landscape and seemed to have a strong, almost magnetic pull. I kept looking for signs of an entrance leading into the insides of the hill, which to me seemed hollow.
Was there ever a temple here? All trace of such a structure was gone. but I could sense something.

In my book, "Rituals in Sacred Stone", I write that Mary Magdalene and Jesus, Mariam and Yeshua, visited this temple and did a ritual according to ancient traditions with the priests and priestesses there. I must have written this while the movie was being filmed, but I certainly did not know of the interviews.
Henry Lincoln hinted at the many secrets this landscape held. I apparently stumbled upon a few of them.

My book comes out on Amazon.com this fall. I'll keep you posted. But my smaller religious/fantasy/mythological/imaginative book, is available in September. Check out my other blog for more.
http://sexonthealtar.blogspot.com/

Make note of the opening of the Lions Gate between July 22nd and August 12th.

Wencke.

Sauniere's Magdala Tower.

2008-06-25T16:33:00.000-05:00

I visited Rennes-le-Chateau last summer and walked the steep three mile path up the hill from Couiza several times. I had studied the area in detail, and planned a ten day stay at a B&B in a house from 16oo. But when I left I felt that I'd barely gotten my feet wet in an ocean of mysteries. The charming tower Magdala, which Sauniere built at his humble rectory turned estate, symbolizes something I felt as a breathing pulse in the Languedoc landscape.

The first floor room of the tower is furnished like a library. It is small, only about ten by ten feet along the floor, but the room is charming. It's easy to picture the studious priest seeing his favorite book through the glass, before opening the cabinet door of the tall book shelf. He is taking out a leather bound volume and sitting down in an armchair by the fireplace. Or maybe Marie, his housekeeper, friend and companion, would join him during the day, and sit down in the window seat, near the draperies, and look out over the landscape, before opening her text to discuss it with him. To me the little library symbolizes a collection of knowledge, and a desire for learning.

But wait, there is something missing here. The space is too small for the vast volumes the good priest devoured in his time. The cute library is almost too obvious as a focal point proving his engagement in proper religious studies. I walked around the garden with the green house and the tower. They make the ends of the wall he built at the steep mountain side where he could get the best view of the breath taking countryside. I can see him as he walked his morning walks and sat down in the sunshine with another script to study.
Or is this, like so many other things in this area, a carrot, a red herring, a visual effect concealing something else. If so, I fell for it, for a while.
I look underneath the elaborate staircase going from the top of the stone wall down to the orchard and flowers. It looks like there are plenty of opportunities to hide an entrance you would want to conceal. Maybe a hidden tunnel to the crypt underneath the church which is now sealed off with concrete? Someone has apparently thought of this before and dug there without results.

Maybe I'm just a tourist looking at the most obvious solutions, which other people have checked a hundred years earlier. Maybe I'm the country mouse going wow...to everything I see.
Is this the way the Languedoc is hiding it's secrets? There are lovely things to explore on the surface, that will keep you from looking deeper, asking better questions, milling over the stories in your mind and allow new solutions to appear?
The secrets of the Cathars, of the Templars were so intangible, so etheric. We still seem to be looking for treasure, for the magical object that solves it all. What if their wisdom was of a different kind? What do we know about the elaborate teachings of martial arts masters? There is no ancient object to dig for, even though the teachings has been concidered a hidden cultural treasure for centuries. But there sure is a treasure trove of knowledge, techniques and inner wisdom to learn. And luckily, there are still masters in this art form that has the old wisdom and are willing to teach.
Is everything lost from the Cathars? Or is it so well hidden we have to recognize the carrots and dig deeper?

Wencke.

The symbol of the snake.

2008-06-10T12:37:00.000-05:00

Are we still scared of snakes? Are we still afraid of acknowledging this power symbol of the Goddess from ancient times? Did St.Patrick effectively drive out the snakes from our consciousness? We know Ireland didn't have any problem with snakes, but had an impressive culture honoring the Goddess and nature. They're gone, and so is apparently our connection to a time when men, women and nature worked in harmony.

If you go back to prechristian times, the feminine was honored in various cultures around the Mediterranean and in Ireland. The image of the priestess holding a snake in each hand was well known, and revered. People of our time are dreaming of snakes. The Goddess is returning, and it is about time that we welcome her.

The symbol of the snake calls for your own inner power to be expressed. If we want to get in touch with the Goddess within, we have to be willing to deal with our own incredible power surging through our body. This does not express itself in gentle, sweet, velvet interactions. This power functions more like a snowplow in front of a fast moving train. It will clear your system of wimpy indecisive thoughts. It will clear your life of situations and people who do not support the purpose you were born to serve.

This is powerful stuff. It is love at its most impressive. Love for the cause, love for life. Love that protects with a flaming sword. Love that cuts through a lot of mush to get to the essence of its purpose.

The snake is a flaming sword. The sword that can also become the snake slithering on the floor scaring Pharaoh enough to let the Israeli people go. It is the twin snakes of the caduceus, showing us how the Ida and Pingala forces twine around our spine, meeting at each chacra power point, creating places for us to balance, to clean, to clear. To eventually let the power of the snake flow unhindered.

Maybe this is a power to be scared of. Maybe it is too much for our cushy selves to deal with. It is demanding. It is not pretty. It does not come across as gentle and sweet and everything nice.

Nevertheless, whether we like it or not, the Goddess is returning. And she's challenging us to not be afraid. To pick up our snake. And to wield it's incredible power.

Wencke.

The medical students at Montrose Beach.

2008-05-31T22:56:00.000-05:00

I live in Chicago, and I walk along the lake nearly every day. Tonight, I met a flock of medical students who were grilling at Montrose Beach. They invited me to a piece of chicken, and we started talking. It quickly came out that I'm a writer.
When the cook heard what I was writing about, he called for his friend who studies theology and introduced me. These young people are eager to hear a new viewpoint. They have open ears for different information than what they have been fed. First they asked if I thought everything in "The Da Vinci Code" was true.

I admire Dan Brown for having started the discussions. The actual facts about Mary Magdalene and Jesus are few and far between. Very little passes our tough criteria for being given the approval stamp of "truth". (Curiously, many things in our history books are quite questionable, but have passed as true for years.) When it comes to what is "true" of the Biblical stories, there isn't really a whole lot to build a case on, for or against. There are many possibilities of what might be the truth. It depends on where you look for facts. It depends on what credence you give to stories told by different authors, who all claim their portion of truth. It depends of what depth you are looking for. There are many ways to build a story.

When I started writing "Rituals in Sacred Stone", I researched the time frame of Jesus and Mary Magdalene. What was happening politically? What religious beliefs and what mythology were in people's consciousness? What education were these two powerful people likely to have? From what schools? What background did they have that made them so respected?

What I found astonished me. The more I read, the more I researched and traveled, the bigger my peephole became, looking into their culture. I found a society brimming with life, with interactions with cultures from all over the known world, which was quite vast at their time. In year zero, the Roman Empire had been in function for several hundred years. Alexander the Great, before the Romans, had discovered India. Alexandria was the biggest city, the New York of their time, with commerce connecting them to the rest of the world. The only thing not included was America. They were aware of different religions, languages, philosophical ideas, and had studied architecture styles in detail. Food staples were shared across cultural lines, musical instruments influenced each other and people intermarried.
What surprised me the most, was their level of education and scholarship and how willingly they shared information between the different universities. There was a respect for knowledge as something valuable, as a body of knowing owned by a person.
The mystery schools were widespread. We know some of them now as archaeological sites of ancient times. Ephesus, the library of Alexandria and the pyramids are the first to come to mind. But there were many more, less famous sites, who were influential as great seats of learning.
The Druids had universities in Britain which were as influential as the library and temple complex in Alexandria. There was a city called Leontopolis north of Heliopolis with a temple dedicated to the cat goddess Bast. They had a festival every year, where all the other temple schools were invited. There was a Jewish temple near Heliopolis that taught the same things as the temple of Jerusalem. Great controversies arose between the two. An Egyptian Temple called Oppidum Priscum Ra existed on an island outside of Marseilles. The commercial routes made it easy for people to travel and exchange information. The Serapium in Alexandria focused on healing. Ephesus focused on oracles. Baia in southern Italy had a whole complex inside a mountain focused on advanced initiations. The temple to Isis in Languedoc, France, was studying the planet Venus and her movements. The Druids were expert astrologers. There was a flourishing of information and available education, to anyone who so desired and according to their ability and interest.

So why wouldn't Jesus and Mary Magdalene have been highly educated, widely respected scholars in their fields? There is no reason to believe otherwise.

I may not have "proof" of their level of education, but their stories certainly tell me that they knew far more than their peers. It would be disrespectful to believe that they hadn't been properly prepared for the momentous task they took on.

I shared this with the medical students, and their faces lit up. The holes in the stories of the Bible aren't empty. They are filled with knowledge and education that didn't fit the mold established in 425AD. I think young people want to know what the holes contain. And they're asking without judgement of the past, but with eager open hearts, sensing that there is a new body of knowledge condensing in front of them.

Wencke.

She was a master gardener.

2008-05-26T22:32:00.000-05:00

When I traveled in France last year, I'd researched my trip thoroughly before I left. I'd found the different stories I wanted to follow, I'd read up on the local legends pertending to her.
Still, hiking the hills she walked, visiting the holy places named after her and taking in the powerful scent of the landscape, is like walking in a dream that transcends time and allows you to pick a timeframe to relate through.
Trees are trees and plants are plants. The cedars are timeless. The broom plant with the honey smelling small yellow orchids on top probably were the same in her time. The lavender haven't changed, and they showed me the old way it was harvested at the Lavender Museum in Provence. The hills roll in pleasing curves, down right feminine in their expression. I've never thought a landscape can be romantic, but I found myself smiling for no reason and writing sweet entries in my journal, which surprised me later in their sincerity.
She was known for her perfumes. The cathedral in St.Maxime-de-la-baume is dedicated to her, and specifically for the holy balm she made. I read that the scent of the tuberose was her favorite. And when I investigated further I found that the ancient French word for tuberose was Maryam.
I found that there was a Roman Villa in the area, whith a famous herb farm run by priestesses from Egypt. The story practically wrote itself. So I wrote it down, the way it came to me.

My novel, "Rituals in Sacred Stone" will be out on Amazon this fall. I'll keep you posted.

Wencke.

Emma Calve, the opera singer.

2008-05-21T13:38:00.000-05:00

I just looked through the pictures I have from France last summer, and once again the beauty of the small church dedicated to Mary Magdalene in Rennes-le-Chateau overwhelmed me. Sauniere had some interesting ideas for church decorating when he renovated his church, to an astonishing sum of money. The colors inside this small space match with a Beatrice Potter children's book. The clear light blue, the color of a sweet summer day, go well with the soft peach and the lavish use of gold. There is a soft turquoise there as well. Where did he get his ideas? The colors would look lovely in a Parisian woman's boudoir. Did Emma Calve, the opera singer he knew, help him out?

Sauniere is always pictured in a black cassock, appearing very much the image of a devout priest. Still, he visited Emma in Paris frequently, and she and a flock of fine people came from Paris to his remote little mountain top in the Languedoc, more than a days train ride away, to enjoy fine dining and entertainment. The stories here are just begging to be written.

I recently visited Nashville, Tennessee, and learned that Emma Calve had been there performing an opera on the stage later known to us all as The Grand Old Opry. The area around Nashville was called the Mero district, after an early mayor of New Orleans who was related to the Merovingian kings of fifth century France. The same Merovingian family had their stronghold close to Rennes-le-Chateau. They claimed to be descendents of Christ and Mary Magdalene, and have divine rights to the throne. Was it their geneology Sauniere found inside a pillar? Another story that needs to be told.

I'm a story teller and a novel writer. This is where I play.

Wencke.

What skull, or whose skull?

2008-05-14T00:58:00.000-05:00

There was a time when skulls were popular. There was a time when the wisdom was thought to reside in the head, even after a persons death. There was a time when some people knew how to retrieve that information.

There are some severed heads which have made their mark in history. We know the story of the head of John the Baptist. What if he wasn't simply executed, but his head was thought of as a powerful political tool? What if the wife, Herodias, knew exactly what she was asking her daughter to request, and that it's revelation would ruin Herod's career?

What if the Knights Templar really had a head in their possession? What if they knew how to make it speak? What if the rituals reserved for their highest initiates contained knowledge inconceivable to us now?

The skull of Mary Magdalene is claimed to exist and is on display at her cathedral in St.Maxime-de-la-Baume, in the town dedicated to the holy balm in the alabaster jar. I have been there. It feels remarkably authentic.

I can't imagine anybody separating her head from the body, out of a grave. Maybe at the time of the relics, her body parts got distributed between the churches that claim to have a bone of her? It's just that, very few of them do. Except for this one in Provence, where her brother was bishop.
Was her head prepared to hold her wisdom for future generations to tap into? What did they do in Ephesus, where they worked with oracles? What is an oracle anyway?

As you can tell, I have more question than answers. But, at least, I'm willing to ask the questions.

Wencke.

The skull and the book.

2008-05-10T15:47:00.000-05:00

Why are they always at her side? In all the churches dedicated to her in southern France, and their are many, we see these symbols. The more familiar alabaster jar is often present, and we also see her carrying a cross.
Why are there so many churches dedicated to her in this secluded part of the world? We don't find this in other countries. The local legends claim she was there. The boat that rescued her from the dangers of Jerusalem took her to her exile in beautiful Provence, and her travels took her through rustic Languedoc.
In my historical novel "Rituals in Sacred Stone", which will be available on Amazon this fall, I follow the legends of her life. The stories from her time and from these areas are rich. I don't claim truth, but I do claim a new interpretation.
What could her symbols mean? Did she share carrying the cross with him? Did she write a book? There are fragments of a gospel after her, which have just been researched and given an inspiring interpretation by Karen King. Or did he write a gospel, which was left in her care? The Cathars were known to have a sacred text from the Saviour himself. The church wanted to get hold of it, and the documents went underground. Did it find it's way to a grotto near Rennes-le-Chateau? Maybe the new movie will give some answers.
The skull, well, that's another story. I'll explore that in the next blog.

Wencke.

Bloodline, the movie. Hidden treasure in southern France.

2008-05-09T13:18:00.000-05:00

I just read Joan Norton's review of the movie on her blog, Mary Magdalene Within. The movie is a documentary following a man's journey through the mysteries surrounding Rennes-le-Chateau, a tiny village on a mountaintop in southern France. He claims to have found a hidden underground chamber containing a corpse and several historic items.

This particular little mountaintop has been an important place in history since the Romans. The stories echoing among these hills have threads to all major movements for the last two thousand years. The hills and mountains are perforated with grottoes and ravines, underground rivers and caves, all covered in vegetation that is hard to penetrate.
On my trip to the area a year ago, I wanted to walk the hills, singing like Maria von Trapp, only to get myself entangled in brambles and brush. The vegetation, which looks very friendly from a distance, is so dense that even a good machete wouldn't do you much good. So these researchers must have hiked the mountainside for years, to stumble upon this find.

Rennes-le-Chateau is one of five mountains surrounding another hill jutting sharply up in the center of the landscape. La Pique is a narrow ridge, which is also hard to get to the top of, unless you follow the long path around it. The five mountains mark the five points of a pentagonal star, the footprint of the path of Venus, seen from the Earth. Legends say there was a temple dedicated to Venus on this ridge, built long before the Romans. The priests of the temple knew how to communicate with Venus, using the surrounding landscape to gather energy and information. If a vortex is created by the movement of the planet, and it points down to a specific spot on the earth, there were technicians of old who knew how to work with the energy generated.
The Romans wanted to know how, but never got hold of the knowledge. The Catholic church, which in effect is an extension of the Roman Empire, never got hold of it either. But in the attempts to shield knowledge, important items were hidden away. And the caves and grottoes of the area gave them ample opportunities to do so.

What treasures are we talking about? The presence of Mary Magdalene is apparent in local legends. More obscure legends says that the Lord was buried in the area. Newer stories talks about the Knights Templar and the treasure they brought from Jerusalem. The Jewish settlement in Narbonne knew all about their activities. Did the Prince of Narbonne supply them with information about the Temple Mount, the basement of King Salomon's Temple? Did he send them out to rescue important artifacts that otherwise would have fallen in wrong hands? The tales say the "things" the Templars brought back went through the Languedoc area on their way to Paris. Were some very secret and very important items hidden securely in a forgotten valley? How about the Visigoths who also inhabited these hills and forests? Or the Celts? They all had treasure that was mentioned in documents. These objects are not accounted for any longer. But in several places it is hinted, that they might be buried between five mountain tops in the Languedoc.

I look forward to see the movie when it comes to Chicago. If someone was looking for treasure or hidden items, the landscape south of Carcassonne around Rennes-le-Chateau holds enough secrets to satisfy even Indiana Jones.

Wencke.

Her message, what was it? Who was she?

2008-05-09T01:37:00.000-05:00

Her message, what was it? Who was she?
Will we ever know? Where can we search?

The buzz started with The Da Vinci Code, goes on. Bloodline, the movie is coming soon, what will it tell us?

I've been asking these questions for a long time. I've been searching for information for decades. In recent years, the shelves in the bookstores have given me books to dive into, great research to investigate, new interpretations to explore. There is a new attitude out there about her. People are looking for information beyond the established, approved sources.

And there is information to be found. We know more about her time, the customs and traditions she was part of. We know a lot more about the political climate she lived in. And we're starting to see the faint light from the mystery schools that existed in her time, which she must have been familiar with. Like beacons from light houses, they are inviting us in, asking us to participate, to explore.

In this space, I invite you to join me on this journey of discovery.

Peace,
Wencke.