Religions neither acknowledged nor accepted homosexuals and indeed their ability to become ministers and work from their hearts in service to their community. Women, of course, had managed to get in to some religions to a certain level however the feminine and all its beautiful compassionate attributes were not fully embraced. Equality with the masculine refuted, not necessarily by word, but demonstrated by the lack of presence of them at a higher level in the church.
The church’s exploitations had eventually been its demise. No religion in the world had survived the onslaught of 2013 and the uprisings around the world as people regained their voices and began to speak up for what they believed in, loud and clear, and western religion, as we had been dished it up, just didn’t hack it any more.
Many ex-priests and clergy felt liberated as they embarked on lives out with the constraints of these tyrannical organisations. They were able to express themselves freely however they chose to do that, and with whom they chose to be with.
There were of course, factions for whom the old status quo was the only way and they had formed groups who were hell bent on preventing certain secrets from surfacing and becoming known to the general public. Unknown to Marianna she was being watched quietly from behind a pillar, by one of these diehards right now, as she approached the spiralling labyrinth and prepared to activate its magical and mystical secrets.
She moved to the point of entry on to the Labyrinth. She knew that, as she walked this spiralling design on the floor, there would be 7 points where certain shifts in her field of energy would occur, and the last would be just as she exited. She was fully aware that as she entered, she entered as one person however, as she went around the circles that snaked across the floor, she would change with each shift and exit from this amazing web a different and entirely reborn individual. Her birth encodements activated and ready to roll.
This was the activation process she was terrified of and yet she knew she had to do this. She had to be absolutely cleared of all past ‘stuff’ to be able to go forward and have her soul’s seeds completely activated to energise her for the next part of this journey.
She put her feet on the entry place and breathed deeply, connecting herself to both the earth and the heavens and called in protection from Archangel Michael, most high, and his legions of Light. She felt a breeze, seemingly coming from nowhere, surround her until she felt that a dome of Light, had surrounded the whole area. She spoke inwardly, whispering, “I am safe, I am secure and ready to go forward to this the most exciting part of my lifetimes so far”.
She walked forward, at first tentatively and then with increasing confidence as she felt she had quite a way to go before encountering the first point, the first energy shift. No sooner had she thought that than she felt a change in the field, as if she were coming up against something like a bubble, unseen and yet keenly felt.
The observer of this event, shifted from foot to foot behind the pillar, just to the right of the labyrinth. He had tried to have the priest put the chairs out early for evensong; however, Father Jean Paul had insisted it was far too early. He must keep it clear for the tourists. Therefore his pathetic attempt to prevent this process taking place had fallen through. He was angry, breathing heavily, any time he tried to approach this situation, he felt he was being physically repelled by some unseen force field. He was not happy. This woman would pay, just as many others had over the years, the centuries, for trying to change the fundamentals of life, the most important being the male supremacy and dominance that reigned.
Women were for taking advantage of, exploiting, dominating, bedding, manipulating, never to be respected as serious contributors in any way. He had always seen his job to being one of patronising them and putting them down at every turn, making sure of course, of pinching any good ideas they may have had along the way. This encouraged some of his female acquaintances to lower their sights and play him at his own game, however, this one was one who retained her power, didn’t give it way to anyone and she worked from the heart. It made it difficult therefore, to penetrate her at all, in a number of ways he smiled to himself. That would be over soon. He would have his way.
Woman’s beauty had caused a lot of trouble over the years, as some had cast a spell over great leaders and in his group most recently one had even made her way to the top of the heap with her husband, but all of that would stop. When he made the call to the Ministry of Patriarchal Survival, MOPS for short then he would be signing her death warrant, but not before he had denigrated her completely had her grovelling for mercy at his feet. He would have her take his maleness in her mouth, he shivered compulsively at the thought and shifted his weight again. In all his 60 odd years on the planet he had never desired a woman more, and one way or another, he would sort this woman out and soon……….
Chapter 3
Shift 1 – A Cathartic Experience
Marianna stopped, feeling the bubble of energy resisting her presence and then with a deep breath she stepped through into this space. Instantly she was catapulted into a vision from many lifetimes ago. She was in a castle at the top of a very high mountain in the South of France, Mont Segur.
She was with her family at the time who lived amongst, maybe 500 other people, some of whom were healers and herbalists, all of whom loved and shared Yeshua’s simple teachings, as they had learned them from the ancient Order of the Magdalenes, the way of Love and equality, and they were hiding in this citadel to avoid detection from the French Inquisition. The Inquisition was there to root out anyone who did not subscribe to and follow Catholicism, the religion that the Pope, an elected priest, oversaw for himself and many others to profit from. Patriarchal power, dominance, material wealth and control were the chosen way of this organised religion.
For many months the castle had been under siege. The only food and water able to come in was through the many caves and underground passageways. The Inquisition had arrived and they had blocked off all of the ways of entry and departure. Their days were numbered. The Cathars, as they were called, were reaching a point of no return. They would descend to the base of the mountain where their fate awaited. They would go to their deaths with the same dignity that Yeshua had gone to his, no more suffering, no more starvation and hunger, just peace.
She was amongst the first to go, hugging her children to her, she told them to be brave and sing the songs of love that they had been taught. Burly guards grabbed her away from her children and threw her to the ground, her face in the mud. Then they prodded her to get up and walk to the fires already burning and there they threw her on to the pile of charred bodies keeping her there with the points of their spears. Her heart was bursting with fear for her children and yet she knew that Yeshua would come for her and them soon.
The flames roared up and around her, consuming her. Her primal screams were heard for many miles almost as if a voice had overtaken and possessed her. The voice of this Magdalene soared across the land, this voice would never be silenced, let humanity be on notice, it would return and with it the love that goes beyond all understanding.
Marianna was back in Chartres in the Labyrinth in the blink of an eye. She swayed, as her sight and presence were once more steady and grounded in the present moment, reality and time frame. She felt sick, still a little unsteady. However, she deepened her breathing and felt her roots go down into the earth resurrecting her equilibrium. She was strong. Her core was resilient and could take this degree of buffeting. She was sure she was never given more to deal with than she could cope with.
As a first introduction to this activation, she realised that she had been shown a very powerful past life as a Cathar, and that this obviously needed to be healed and forgiven in this time to release the negative vibration that still occupied her somewhere in her bodies. She breathed out all the negativity, the heat in her body, she forgave, her inner voice praying for peace and forgiveness for all concerned for their highest good and greatest joy.<
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Breathing in and out quietly and deeply she restored her calm, she restored her inner peace and out of the corner of her eye she became aware of a movement. She swiftly turned towards the pillar to the right which had until a few moments ago been hiding the onlooker. Staring into the gloom she couldn’t see anything, however, the interruption served to bring her right back to the matter in hand. She wondered if she should shelve this for the moment and come back at a later time to give herself time to assimilate what had just taken place and integrate the effects before going further into what could be even more powerful experiences or events.
She had had no idea that this activation process would be so demanding and hoped that not all of the 7 steps would be as agonisingly heart painful as that one had been. She wished her beloved Archangel Michael, most high, were there to give some guidance at this very moment. She needed to know what was best. She was also sure that she had been watched and not by a kindly force. She could smell the evil, it lingered in the air, and it made her shiver.
She turned around to check behind her and there he was 6ft 2” tall, handsome and smiling. He took her hand and held it against his heart.
“How can I help”? He said.
“Do you think I should go on today? I don’t know if I could withstand all 7 activations in one go, if they are all as powerful as this one?” Marianna was closely scrutinising his face, awaiting his answer. She felt tired and a little irritable, not quite herself probably due to the close proximity of this amazing man? Being? Angel? There goes Eddie Murphy again!! You’ve just got to be joking!
Michael grabbed her attention back into reality. “You need to go forward, you must complete, it is urgent now, just take your time. If you need me, call out my name”. Michael turned and was gone into the ether as quickly and as suddenly as he had appeared. (Definitely an Angel!)
Before Michael had arrived the ‘breather’ behind the pillar had cursed out loud as he found his right calf muscle going into a spasm of cramp. This hanging around in the cold damp was not his idea of fun. He sloped off. He would find another way to get at her. In the meantime, he knew that she was going to stay there for at least another hour or so. It was time for him to arrange a few surprises of his own.
Marianna took a deep breath, refocused and began again to walk around the curves and corners of the labyrinth.
Chapter 4
Shift 2 – An Irish Experience
It was some time before she felt the next point of resisting energy. She knew as she leant into it, that this block really needed to be lifted before she could progress onto the clearing and activation sections of the spirals. She centred herself, paused and then plunged her right foot forward into the vortex of energy. She was immediately sucked downward, down and down, everything rushing past her, glimpses of lives flying past until she found herself outside a very large house.
As she looked around, she could see that she was in a fairly large town and unless she was very much mistaken, she was hearing the lilt of Irish accents as people walked past the driveway. She had walked up the tree-lined drive to a massive front door. Whoever lived here held a position of authority she reckoned.
She felt her stomach spasm, it felt like a movement in her womb, she placed her hand on her stomach and felt the power of the new life pulsating within her. She was pregnant and had come to seek assistance from the person responsible. She looked down at her feet she was wearing simple boots and rough socks, her skirts were soiled and she knew that she obviously came from a working class possibly servile background.
So here she was to plead her case. The door was opened by a snooty housekeeper who looked down her nose at the young woman before her.
“I would like to see the Bishop please, Ma’am,” said Marianna known as Mary in this lifetime as she bobbed a curtsey.
“What would the likes of you have to do with his Grace?” said Miss O’Connor a formidable, cold woman who saw her role as protector of the Bishop and his good name.
“That’s no concern of yours, my business is with his Grace,” she said quietly but steadfastly.
“Cheek me would you, well we will see, wait here”. The woman strode away retreating into the hallway and the rooms beyond. Mary stood and waited, twisting the handles of her old bag in her hands. Her thoughts were running all over the place. What if he wouldn’t help, what then, her Mother would kill her. Her father would go off his head. She would be sent away or made to get rid of the child, in any event, this was the only road available.
The woman returned, indicating by a sharp movement of her head that she was to come in. She was shown into a large reception room with a great fire burning in the hearth. It was warm, cosy, a beautiful house with rich velvet curtains and tapestries on the walls. There, behind the desk, he sat, the Bishop, Adrian, as she knew him. He told Miss O’Connor to leave, and she did reluctantly go.
Mary ran to him as he got up and strode round the desk. The Bishop shouted, “I told you never to come here, what do you think you are doing? I’ll see you at the back of the church hall as usual; your forgiveness will be assured. You must never disclose our secret”.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and made to throw her out of the room. She managed to escape his grasp and turn on him, ” I need you to know, I am pregnant, you can’t just shun me and throw me out, I am bearing your child, are you not happy? No one need know that you are the father, I will bring him up if you will pay for our food and keep and help with his schooling and all”.
The Bishop laughed harshly, “you don’t really think that I feel any obligation to you at all, I merely vented my needs on you, I care absolutely nothing for you or your bastard child and if you dare accuse me of being its father then I will have you locked up as being mad, lascivious, a prostitute who puts her body around to one and all. You will be a laughing stock. Who will listen to you over me, the Bishop of the largest area in Ireland”?
Mary was devastated, she had always known that what was happening between them was wrong. From the start this man had groomed her, pretended to be like a friend and uncle to her and over the years. The level of his intimacy had increased until in the last year he had taken her virginity and had forced intercourse with her on several occasions. He had always sworn her to secrecy that it was their special relationship, given her little gifts and said he would look after her. Why hadn’t she listened to her gut? It had known that what was happening to her was not right. Now the truth was staring her in the face. He had used her, he had abused her and now with equal agility was abandoning her.
This was the Bishop, the holy man, people hung on his every word, and he was the highest of the high in this area, answerable to Cardinal O’Reilly himself. He had exerted his power and dominance over her, exploited her in every way and she let him know that she would tell and some would believe her. “You can say what you like, mud sticks, I will tell everyone and some of them will listen, it will do you no good. I will tell the Cardinal”. This last was uttered with cold menace.
This silenced him, had him pause for thought. After a few minutes he said in a defeated tone, “I will send you to a beautiful home in the country where you will be looked after well, cared for and the child will be cared for along with you. It is the best I can do and at least your parents won’t feel the shame of the situation, you can have a life with your child there”.
He moved to the door, “Wait here, I will arrange it now, you will leave right away”.
She hung her head and cried and cried, she wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye to her Mam and her Dad, but once the babe was born she would come back and hopefully get a job and settle into a home life. She could always rent a room for her and the baby. Her mind was whirling, distraught though she was, it raced ahead to make plans.
After about 15 minutes, he came back into the room to usher her out the back way from his mansion on to a horse and cart driven by a surly individual. She cl
imbed up, feeling wretched and yet in a strange way she was glad the confrontation was over and a way forward in place. For now she was at peace. Not for long however.
The Sisters of St Magdalene’s home for girls was a draconian place. Possibly, it would have been more appropriately called a prison or an asylum. Girls and women from many different backgrounds were simply abandoned there. This happened if they had been pregnant, or flirted and fooled around with men, looked the wrong way at men, were slightly retarded or ‘not right’. They were dumped by their parents, their friends and everyone they knew, with the Sisters,
It would be lovely to think that the Sisters were all spiritually perfect souls. However, as can be the way at a lot of these places, often they were run by targes, domineering women, verging on the sadistic with authority over poor souls who couldn’t fight back. They turned their backs on the visits from local clergy who were out to release their lustful passions on some of the women who didn’t even know what was happening to them. Suicides were frequent, beatings and whippings daily occurrences and Mary was heading for this tragic life in all innocence.
She had been duped. She soon found out what the place was like. The possibility of escape, nought but a futile dream. She learned to keep her head down as she awaited the birth of her young one. When that day came she would leave with her child and make her own life.
In reality, when the time came, the babe was taken from her breast and she never saw him after the first day. She was told it was for the best and that an honourable family would bring him up as their own. She would remain in this place of hell, her days spent in reflection, do penitence and pay for her sins, repent and see the error of her prostituting ways.
Devastated, she felt hatred build in her, the likes of which she had never dreamt she could feel. She was flogged regularly for her nonconformist behaviours, and each and every time her primal screams rang out over the Irish land, the voice of the Magdalenes, “NOT IN MY NAME”. We shall return with the love that goes beyond all understanding, we shall reclaim and resurrect the Truth and the real Magdalene.
The Magic of the Magdalene Key Page 2
