Raised to behave, not to burn. This reflection explores the shift from moral performance to mystical presence—and what happens when Christ stops being a rulebook and starts becoming a fire in your chest.
One thing that struck me as I read is how we who were raised in religion and in the west, have a tendency to perform and aim for a destination or accomplishment. But the spiritual teachings of Jesus and the Magdalene are all about being. Hard to tick off on a checklist or earn a gold star for that.
I have looked at it as having nothing separate from God. Trying to release things large and small that I see as "mine ". But all that you leave (if it is good) is still there when shared.
Yes. Nothing truly good is lost when it is shared. The mystics call it release, but it is really return. Letting the small “mine” dissolve so the vast “ours” can breathe again.
Magdalene let go of everything, and somehow kept everything that mattered.
Pretty sure I don’t have a halo to unhinge (been unhinged for decades) & yeah, my inner heretic wept but I’m not sure it was with joy, been weepy all evening - tho pretty sure I’ve stumbled across that mystic path a time or two cause every day I look at the world either itz melting or my eyes are or maybe both at the same time. Weeping cause I love my infrared sauna I go to once a week for health reasons but now for newly discovered health procedures might hafta stop. and laffing at the thot of going anyhow just to see what might happen - maybe someday the rebel in me will stop & behave but what fun would that be?
I’m behind in everything so reading posts all outta order & it works cause I always get what stirs me up then soothes me down to just where I need to be…at least for right then. And now. And gratefully blessed in the chaos.
And just like the wicked witch 🧙 of the west (of course I always preferred her to Glenda Goody Two Shoes witch who made Dorothy go thru hell to get home) - I’m melting. 🫠
( I swear I didn’t pick that emoji out, I planned another one lol so I’m keeping it. You can’t make this shit up)
Beth Ann, this isn’t a comment. It’s a gospel from the Church of the Gloriously Unhinged.
Maybe we did go to the same church. Or maybe we tunneled out through the same sarcastic escape hatch. Either way, you get it. The weeping, the melting, the rebel who refuses to behave because honestly, what fun would that be?
You’re not behind. You’re spiraling like a proper mystic. Out of order, right on time, and landing exactly where the tears and truth were waiting.
Keep the emoji. Keep the chaos. You’re holy as hell.
The stripping away and the walking into the fire can be deep and cleansing. Some believe fire is dangerous and unwieldy. While it’s opposite cousin is Water, it’s the blue part of the flame 🔥 that allows us to focus… to turn inward and focus. While Water allows us to reflect and soften… Fire allows us to purge… your words have completely stirred my evening… 💕
Yes. The blue part of the flame. The quiet burn that doesn’t boast but transforms everything it touches. Magdalene knew that fire. Not the wildfire of destruction, but the hearth flame of becoming.
Thank you for tending it so well. Reflection and purification are sisters, and tonight they’re dancing.
So much, Dear Monk. I have no words — quite a thing for me. This is all very fine. 🤩
“Presence is not self-awareness on steroids. It’s your whole being tuned to something higher. It is the place where the world of the senses meets the world of the spirit. The moment when you remember: I am not my reactions. I am not my roles. I am.”
One thing that struck me as I read is how we who were raised in religion and in the west, have a tendency to perform and aim for a destination or accomplishment. But the spiritual teachings of Jesus and the Magdalene are all about being. Hard to tick off on a checklist or earn a gold star for that.
Exactly. Western religion handed out report cards. But Magdalene taught presence, not performance. You cannot spreadsheet your way to surrender.
The mystics never asked for gold stars. They just sat still long enough to melt the ones glued to their foreheads.
I have looked at it as having nothing separate from God. Trying to release things large and small that I see as "mine ". But all that you leave (if it is good) is still there when shared.
Yes. Nothing truly good is lost when it is shared. The mystics call it release, but it is really return. Letting the small “mine” dissolve so the vast “ours” can breathe again.
Magdalene let go of everything, and somehow kept everything that mattered.
First, did we go to the same church growing up?
Pretty sure I don’t have a halo to unhinge (been unhinged for decades) & yeah, my inner heretic wept but I’m not sure it was with joy, been weepy all evening - tho pretty sure I’ve stumbled across that mystic path a time or two cause every day I look at the world either itz melting or my eyes are or maybe both at the same time. Weeping cause I love my infrared sauna I go to once a week for health reasons but now for newly discovered health procedures might hafta stop. and laffing at the thot of going anyhow just to see what might happen - maybe someday the rebel in me will stop & behave but what fun would that be?
I’m behind in everything so reading posts all outta order & it works cause I always get what stirs me up then soothes me down to just where I need to be…at least for right then. And now. And gratefully blessed in the chaos.
And just like the wicked witch 🧙 of the west (of course I always preferred her to Glenda Goody Two Shoes witch who made Dorothy go thru hell to get home) - I’m melting. 🫠
( I swear I didn’t pick that emoji out, I planned another one lol so I’m keeping it. You can’t make this shit up)
Beth Ann, this isn’t a comment. It’s a gospel from the Church of the Gloriously Unhinged.
Maybe we did go to the same church. Or maybe we tunneled out through the same sarcastic escape hatch. Either way, you get it. The weeping, the melting, the rebel who refuses to behave because honestly, what fun would that be?
You’re not behind. You’re spiraling like a proper mystic. Out of order, right on time, and landing exactly where the tears and truth were waiting.
Keep the emoji. Keep the chaos. You’re holy as hell.
The stripping away and the walking into the fire can be deep and cleansing. Some believe fire is dangerous and unwieldy. While it’s opposite cousin is Water, it’s the blue part of the flame 🔥 that allows us to focus… to turn inward and focus. While Water allows us to reflect and soften… Fire allows us to purge… your words have completely stirred my evening… 💕
Yes. The blue part of the flame. The quiet burn that doesn’t boast but transforms everything it touches. Magdalene knew that fire. Not the wildfire of destruction, but the hearth flame of becoming.
Thank you for tending it so well. Reflection and purification are sisters, and tonight they’re dancing.
I have no doubt that her Fire 🔥 reached across thresholds, tables and tombs 🙌🏻
Nourishing my soul in these trying times.
May your soul take long sips and second helpings. In times like these, nourishment is resistance.
Keep feeding the light. Even a flicker can outlast the storm.
This is good, sometimes it's hard to keep up with the amazing volume of work that you shared... But eventually I get there.
Thank you 🙏
No rush. This isn’t a race. It’s a slow walk through a strange garden with holy graffiti on every wall.
The Magdalene didn’t sprint. She lingered. And sometimes that’s the real secret—letting the wisdom catch you.
Once you hear “You’re already mine,” then life begins. 🔥
Wise woman, wise 😘
You’re such a sweetie pie, Beth! 🌞
First, takes one to know one 😉
second, i was a theatre major because i starred in Antigone in high school so Greek tragedy imbues everthing i say. 🤣😂😅
OK, if you’re Antigone, I’ll be the Greek goddess Gaia — toga time! 🌸
So much, Dear Monk. I have no words — quite a thing for me. This is all very fine. 🤩
“Presence is not self-awareness on steroids. It’s your whole being tuned to something higher. It is the place where the world of the senses meets the world of the spirit. The moment when you remember: I am not my reactions. I am not my roles. I am.”
“Here I came to the very edge
where nothing at all needs saying …”
• Pablo Neruda
And yet, Donna, in saying you have no words, you offered some of the most beautiful ones here.
Thank you for meeting this piece at the edge where presence lives and language dissolves.
My favorite Neruda poem:
Keeping Quiet
“Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let's not speak in any language;
let's stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about...
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us as when everything seems dead and later proves to be alive.
Now I'll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.”
Pablo Neruda
Eva Green reads it:
https://youtu.be/gkJEOdXWCnw?si=lfWkmaQrqoeqzOvS
When the question is “So what now?” the Magdalene usually answers with a pause, not a plan.
Glad the post found you right on time. Grace is sneaky like that.