Spiritual Cowgirl

“What did we lose when we lost the Mary whom the Scriptures call the Magdalene? Simply stated, we lost the color red - the deep crimson of passion, of the blood mysteries, of compassion and Eros in the Jungian sense of relatedness. And with the exile of Mary Magdalene from our consciousness, we were tragically cut off from the irrigating waters of intuition and mysticism, from feminine ways of knowing, from the deep wisdom of the body and its senses, and from our intimate kinship with all that lives. These aspects of the sacred feminine were originally embodied in the Mary who was the beloved companion of Jesus and who represented our full humanity in an intimate partnership union with the Divine Logos.”

Margaret Starbird in Mary Magdalene: Bride In Exile

I have not been able to post on this blog for months. I have not been able to do much of what mainstream society calls “work” for two months. My life, my self, my universe has turned inside out and upside down. Down is now Up. But Up is definitely not Down…yet. Sigh. You see, all this cryptic gibberish is why I shouldn’t be posting on Spiritual Cowgirl at this time. A Red Night of the Soul is definitely not entertaining or witty or uplifting. And if I work too hard to explain what is actually going on for me, I take myself out of the experience…and that can’t happen right now. For it is clear to me that I need to be “In It”.

Last week, when I asked the divine what the hell to do about all this mess, I experienced an inner vision. It was that of a massive red velvet curtain - like one that hangs in those old grand theaters – dropping smoothly and quickly down to the floor.

Thud.

Cutting me off from my audience, from the house lights, from the world.

Alone, I slowly turned around in the darkness of my new environment and was immediately embraced by the energy of Her. My Red Lady. And the tears flowed and the heart hiccupped and the mind quieted and I got it.

For now, I need to be with the Divine She of Me. This is a foundational boundary I need to draw and uphold. So, a necessary cocooning, a molting, a shedding of skins (how many insect/animal metaphors can I bring in?), can happen.

And although all this probably sounds awfully dramatic and pretentious, it is where I need to be at this time. No apologies. No exceptions. No compromises.

Until She raises the red velvet curtain again.

Then I will come back to this blog shaking my bloody wings, my dusty mini skirt, and my dirty sense of humor. At you. At myself. At life.

Until then, I wish all who visit this site red bold blessings and red hot love and I thank you for your patience.