FINDING MARY MAGDALENE BLOG SERIES.

“THE GROTTO OF LA SAINTE-BAUME, PART 2: THE Anointed”

Originally Published: May 29th, 2014

I awoke with excitement on my final full day at La Sainte-Baume. However, the night had not been kind to me; I had been kept up by the loud talking and banging of doors by private school teenagers, staying at the Hostellerie for an extended school field trip. After 9 PM class ended, the teens liked to play loud American music, laugh and play. The monastery had a policy of quiet hours after 10 PM, which the kids clearly didn’t observe, and I wondered why the school found it necessary to bring the kids to the Hostellerie when most did not care to be there. When, clearly, there were serious spiritual seekers longing to have a peaceful and connected experience. :)

That aside, I had a job to do. I gathered my crystals and stones, and picked a single poppy in the field for Mary, gently setting it in the folds of my scarf. As I looked up toward the cave, hidden behind a heavy mist, I wondered what Mary had in store for me.

The climb was challenging. I thought maybe because I had made the trek twice the day before. Either way, I made it to the top, and again went directly to my statue of Mary. I didn’t know what I was going to do, so I allowed my intuition to lead the way. I lit a candle and set it before the statue. I took my stones - both from my home in NYC and the few I collected from the ancient forest - and ran them over the flame and then touched them to Mary, and finally myself.

I found some paper and wrote a note of gratitude to Our Lady Mary. I set it comfortably with the poppy, next to the many other notes of respect, curled up beside the statue.

Mary spoke to my heart and I knew in that moment my job was done at La Sainte-Baume. I stood up and reached over to gently touch the statue one last time, when at the exact moment my hand touched her, a drop of water fell from the cavernous ceiling, and landed directly on my third eye. “I’ve been ANOINTED!” I nearly screamed out loud. Laughing to myself, I knew Mary had given me this gift.

I prepared to descend the mountain and had a feeling of accomplishment, thinking: had this been the only site I visited in France, my pilgrimage would have been complete.

As fate had it, I was not quite done with La Sainte-Baume. At several communal meals, I had sat near a luminous woman with bright blonde hair, and one blue feather dangling from her ear. Chris was her name, and she was a Reiki practitioner and Shaman. As I was walking out the main gate leading to the cave, I saw Chris, walking-stick in hand, wrapped in a deep purple robe. We smiled and finally began a conversation. Chris spoke absolutely no English, but due to our shared passion we were able to communicate deep truths about Mary and the workings of the universe. I left Chris to have her moment with Mary knowing in my soul I had connected with my Kindred Spirit!

Later that afternoon I decided to make the hike to the cave once more, in case there was anything I missed. The atmosphere from the lingering mist gave the cave and it’s surroundings an other-worldly feel. I sat just outside the cave, happy for those last few moments.

The following morning, it was time for me to depart. I brought my books on Mary Magdalene to breakfast, in order to show them to Chris and her companion. She and I discussed our personal cosmology and healing modalities.

Jean, mother of Marie, had strongly urged me to speak to the Brothers about Mary, saying it would give me grace. Unsure, yet, wanting to follow her advice, I knew I needed to find a way to do this beyond the way of confession.

So, at the end of my stay, with my new friend Axel, we asked a Brother about a mysterious pillar at the entrance of the forest, that appears to be of Free Masonry origin. He explained that they don’t know where the pillar came from but that many people come to La Sainte-Baume for several reasons: to pray to Mother Earth, to pray to a Sacred Feminine, or to leave gratitude for the woman closest to Christ. I told him I thought that it was beautiful that they accept all people with varying beliefs at the Hostellerie. And above all, I felt, that the driving principle behind Mary Magdalene is Love. And he countered, “But what is love?” Without thought, I responded, “God. God is love.” And he told me that it is a point of research for people, to meditate and pray on the meaning of Love.

With that, I packed up and left the Hostellerie. Excited to reacquaint myself with my English-accented GPS guide, I set the route for Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume, and the supposed relics of Mary Magdalene.

END NOTE: Of course there were MANY others along this path to La Sainte-Baume that went unmentioned in my blog: Sapine, the Austrian energy worker and spiritual seeker; the three older fellows, who invited me for a drink and a conversation “en Franglais;” the two women, who taught me how to request a quiet room: “Je veux une chambre au calme;” two reiki practitioners, who critiqued how “practical France has become, to even consider using Reiki in a hospital setting is unthinkable;” Axel, the German physicist with an interest in the Magdalene legends; and the countless others, whose very presence made Mary come alive at that quiet outpost of La Sainte-Baume.