Category: Wellbeing

  • The Quest – Arrival at the Gates of the Abbey

    The road to the Monastery reminded Godfrei of childhood fireside stories. Of landscapes belonging to the Faery Queen and tribes of old. Her whispers in the hedgerows that enchant the riders from their horses into the thicket. Beyond the world of living and into the worlds of the hills and mounds. The twisting lanes, oaks that appeared as old men standing with twisted limps and shadows of those long gone. As they journeyed into the valley, they descended under the sun line, as if heading towards the core of the earth. The horizon now disappearing. As the hazy light obscured his vision, he just closed his eyes and was absorbed into the sounds of the land. The rhythmical chant of the horses, the gentle thud on the earth, the birds singing in his heart, an ensemble of nature.  They all seemed to move now as One, not six riders on horseback, but One instrument.

    The scuffing sound of the horse hooves brought Godfrei into the world again directly opposite the gates of the Abbey. He had suddenly re-entered the world, his ears unable to adapt to the bustling villagers. The locals with their carts and commotion of deliveries, was a sight he hadn’t been accustomed to for so long. The journey from the Bay had been in secret, in the dark of night, until now. His heart raced within his ribs. Was this real?

    Was that his name?

    There again!

    His riders were all dismounting!!!  

    He knew this voice calling in the crowd, now arms stretched out towards him.

    He was slower, wearier, than the others, his hearing too dismissive from the long time alone in his own thoughts, and now, the back-and-forth noises.

    “Godfrei, dear Brother, are you well? Come, come we have been waiting for so long to welcome you, come”.

    As he looked with pinpointing precision a brown sullen figure with the familiar voice emerged as if from the walls of the sandstone bricks. It was Adam. Their eyes connected and Godfrei felt the highest zeal of energy. Joy flooded through him. He leaped down off the horse, in one long lurching movement. His legs unflexing from the sleepiness felt like blocks of wood, and pain rose to his hips, with stiff staggering steps he lumbered forwards. Adam with the same furry of excitement stretched out and wrapped his flapping brown sleeves over Godfrei like the wings of a swan, a shout of praise, streaming notes of a psalm, both in rapture abound one another.

    Godfrei was home. His legs buckled and Adam lifted him upon his chest with cries of “home now Brother you made it. We have you now, all is well.  There will be a feast at Heaven’s order, to welcome you this day.  Come, come Brother no more does your body need to wither and wane in the tests of Our Father.  Be inside the dwelling of Our Mother’s House, for you are truly a blessed sight, come, come, dearest Brother”.

    Godfrei could have sworn that he had passed out then spent the day wavering without his faculties. In the proceeding hours the Brothers took care of his bodily needs as expected. They washed him, inspected his wounds, delt with his injuries, dressed him in robes of their Order, fed him, prayed over him.  After the blessing by the hand of the Abbot, he was granted rest in a private dormitory, Adam would reside with him also, taking care of all his needs. Tomorrow would be a day of the first transcriptions, but right now he could not even grasp the first words to describe what had begun so long ago. And all he wanted was rest… all his body wanted was rest. The only thing that kept him going was the picture in his mind of this Abbey.

    He would not see his Brethren travellers until the transcriptions were complete. Just as protocol dictated, for fear of merging details and inaccurate misgivings.  Beyond that, he still needed to deliver the charge in his possession, which remained with him all day, always within arm’s reach. The task was not yet complete. He let out a long sigh and heard Adam stir nearby, “will this journey ever end”.

    Photographs taken by JT Salmon and recreated with Copilot.

  • The Quest – St Mary’s and Michael’s Church Urswick

    Part 3 The mythical storytelling of the Knights in Cumbria

    They arrived at the northern coastline after nightfall. Immediately beyond the shoreline, the sounds of the woodland became apparent. The forest transitioned seamlessly from sandy terrain to the firm, crisp substrate beneath the canopy of leaves.

    Their walk took them towards the starlight sky. At its summit, they felt the breath of the planet, the wind caressing their path, that now coiled down the earthly side of their mission to the Pele tower of the church. As they continued to walk the winding path the stories of those who arrived at this location over the centuries moved them within their hearts. The pilgrims, and the mystics appeared to be walking with them like their times on the labyrinth. Inside the thick stone walls, there was a distinct atmosphere; the stones seemed to hold a notable presence. Accounts from elders had long referenced this location as one established by the first Christians. It has been maintained by local villagers that continue some of the oldest traditions, their traditions from New Jerusalem and before.

    The moon slanted through high windows onto the ancient stone floors worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Outside, the breeze sang through the yew trees in the graveyard. The night seemed to hold its own benediction. Wrapped in their cloaks, their faces softened, free from the strain of flight and fear. Here, within walls blessed by both time and faith, they trusted the silent guardianship of the stones.

    Upon awakening, Godfrei felt well-rested and appreciative of the restorative sleep and profound dream state he had experienced. The sense of guidance provided by the “Her” remained with him. He recalled a similar depth of reflection during his travels as a young man in desert caves, where his early initiations with the elders took place. The resonance of the church evoked memories of those subterranean environments, akin to the nurturing spaces revered by the keepers of the Way. The church appeared intentionally designed to mirror the qualities of those ancient, earthbound sanctuaries.

    When he stepped outside, instead of encountering the glaring sunlight he remembered from the rocky enclosures of his past, he was met with a gentle morning mist and diffused light. This was “Her” language —an environment characterized by vitality, abundance, and growth. The language of Her presence, Mary of the Fields. As he gazed across the landscape, he noticed a statue, he must have brushed passed Her in the night. And just behind Her in the field beyond, the standing stone.

    Godfrei surveyed this landscape, absorbing the freshness of the morning dew, and his reassured vision of the path ahead. He recognized a growing awareness, welcoming him as he approached the final stage of his journey. His calling to reach the Monastery was strong, his bones ached for the restorative enclosure of the Abbey, but his spirit was already there. It felt like his heart was flowing psalms into his veins, chanting rhythmically with every breath.

    AI image

    This is the St.Mary and Michael church at Little Urswick UK, her previous name was St. Mary in the Fields. This church has history dating to the 10th century. A patronage of the Savigny and Cistercian orders, with a Stone Cross with Viking runic markings, the Tunwini cross. The tower has a sandstone Mater Dolorosa carving from Furness Abbey after the dissolution. And yew trees at the gates. The history emanates the rich spirit of land, place and space. For more information look at the Historical fragments at the Church.

    Here, in the Church we find another Graveslab, a thirteenth century ‘Le Franceys’ grave slab which currently stands next to the ‘priest’s door’ in the chancel of Urswick
    church. The slab is flat and tapered from head to foot with ‘floriated cross elaborately
    carved in relief, and inscribed along the chamfered edge, in Longobardic characters + HIC :
    JACET : AMICIA : FILIA : JOHANNIS : FRANCESSI, John Le Frances, named as witness to Roger de Lancaster in Ulverston in 1284 . HIC AMICIA engraved into the slab indicated a statement like Here lies a dear friend.

    The stained glass windows above the altar had the most wonderful display of heraldic shields. The surroundings windows throughout the church had fabulous symbology to go and decipher for your pleasure.

    This little Church is full of history and legends of Celtic Cumbria in Furness and the Tunwini Cross.

    There are many delightful stories and history named in Ossik Coots and Collared Doves. Check by Reverend Colin R Honour. M.Ed.

  • The Quest to St.Patrick’s Chapel and St. Peter’s Church

    The Quest

    This series of blogposts combines historical sites in Cumbria and the Borders with personal reflections. I am on a quest, a Calling, to go visit the paths of the Templars, Mary and Magdalene Way. I am trusting my intuition, the sights and signs I find as I go and the Earth’s grid that connects me to land, place, and space across past, present, and future. These posts document my journey and the insights I uncover within myself. The writing is a blend of personal insights, historical findings and storytelling. I feel I am one long storyline unfolding with the next steps.

    The Calling presents the Quest,

    and the Quest propels the Way.

    AI generated with CoPilot Microsoft
    AI generated with CoPilot Microsoft imaging

    The Knights Templar’s Crossing

    As they neared the coast, their safe harbour that had been established more than 400 years prior was in sight. Their course had been maintained throughout this journey, guided by comforting signs, the swans nearing the coastline, the stars, their Stella Maris.

    This time the crew felt the pressure of their final departure. They had nearly completed their mission, at least by sea. They observed the prominent chapel on the coast and expressed gratitude to St. Patrick and St. Martin of Tours. The ship groaned against the waves, but predominantly, they heard their own voices in adoration, as they chanted together through these final moments to shore.  

    The chapel came into view, followed by the lights along the shore. They had entered safe waters, and the sight of the Bay served as a reassuring indicator of their proximity to Sanctuary, a place they now longed for. The Brethren on the sandy shore were prepared to extend a warm welcome, offering necessary care and support, especially given the near completion of their mission. The promise of rest was both a source of nourishment and a reminder of their fatigue. Their bodies instinctively recalled the safety of the Abbey, lulling them into premature rest. They had to summon inner strength to keep moving forward.

    The sky resembled a velvet canopy, with stars lighting their way to the shore. She remained their reliable guide once again. They travelled when the moon was waning, navigating through the night under Her starry cloak. Upon anchoring on the shore, they discovered that their elder companion had passed away. The movement of the ship and their voices in prayer had gently carried him into eternal rest.

    Suddenly they realized this changed everything. It demanded a delay to their journey for another day and night. The following period would be dedicated to honouring their long-time mentor who had guided them since the beginning. One of them took responsibility immediately and could be heard speaking to the Brethren on the shore. The others all silent onboard, now below deck. When they all raised their gaze at the same time from their beloved elder, at peace, they realised this wasn’t just about the Rites of Parity, but a successor.

    They all felt the same rise of notability. The one who was to be given the keys. They all shared the same thoughtful consideration for the individual who was to be united with the formal rites of the keys, who was not yet aware of the important duty he was to undertake. His life was about to change with the formal transfer of authority, marking not just the departure of his elder brother but also the transition of responsibilities into his hands before proceeding to the Abbey. It was necessary to conduct this ceremony with due solemnity before handing over the charge in their hands to the guardians of the grail.

    History of the Chapel

    The ruin dates from the 8th or 9th century and is built of sandstone. Near the chapel is a group of six rock-cut tombs from the 11th century and a separate group of two rock-cut tombs. Each group has an associated socket probably intended for a timber cross. The buried skeletons uncovered were dated as no earlier than the 10th century. 1,200 artefacts were also recovered, which showed that the site had been occupied about 12,000 years ago (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Patrick%27s_Chapel,_Heysham).

    Archaeologists found that the cemetery was split into a large central area with two smaller sites in the east and west. Bodies were placed on their backs, in a traditional Christian east-west orientation (with their heads pointing towards the west). Some had their arms crossed, which was also an early Christian practice. A mix of women, men and children were interred. Perhaps surprisingly, ten people, two of which were children, were buried under the floor of the chapel itself. Around eighty-four individuals from the community were buried on the site during its use, with an even split between males and females. They are reburied in the church yard at St Peter’s church.

    Of particular significance was the burial of a woman who was placed close to the south door of the chapel. She had been wrapped in a shroud and to the right side of her pelvis was a curved ‘hogback’-shaped bone comb of Anglo-Scandinavian design.

    Heysham also has a Viking age hogback stone in the nearby St Peter’s Church.  

    It is not known where or when St Patrick was born but, historians place him sometime in the 400s. In recent years, two places have been put forward for his place of origin, Ravenglass in Cumbria and Birdoswald near Hadrian’s Wall. After six years in Ireland, he escaped and returned to England. It’s not clear where he made landfall – local tradition holds that it was at Heysham (https://lancashirepast.com/2024/11/30/a-history-of-the-rock-cut-graves-and-st-patricks-chapel-heysham/).

    All photos by Janice Turner Salmon

  • We are Equal, we are as One….

    The author Cynthia Bourgeault says that any discord in the ranks amongst the apostles is simply silenced in the canonical gospels. It is when we look to the gnostic writings that we see a lack of harmony amongst them. Here in the Gospel of Mary Magdalene we see that Peter and Mary are far apart rather than side by side in their perspectives. We see Peter looking on, clinging, it appears that Peter is stuck and Mary is free. When the gnostic scriptures, the Nag Hammadi, were discovered didn’t leaders and academics say these same things about Yeshua’s teachings, sounding strange and not fitting with the other recordings of his ministry. And yes, I agree that the Gospel of Mary is so much more a metaphysical account than a retelling of the life of Yeshua. The core message I receive in the present moment about this passage, (page 17 and 18) is that she names him, “My Brother Peter”, my equal, As Yeshua named them My Brother’s and Sister, there is no hierarchy amongst them. In the eyes of their Saviour and in the eyes of Mary, they are all equal, Brother addressing Sister, Man and Woman.

    What do you see between the Mind of Peter and the Heart of Mary?

    The Gospel of Mary – pages 17 to 18. The final pages and the interaction between Mary and the Apostles.
  • She wept….

    We are approaching the end of the Gospel and now we see the disciples doubting her experience of the vision with the Saviour. She is challenged by the other Apostles, and she wept. I talk about the breaking down, as the breaking through, as Mary stands fully in her Power. We are taking a step towards the Bridal Chamber, as Mary’s Gospel is paving the way for this to be the most critical teaching……

    In this video I am reminded of being fully witnessed brings us completely central in our truth. I see how being seen is a powerful, and a result of circle practice.

  • Reiki Meditations – from me to you

    I have created two meditations for all Reiki Practitioners new and established. A routine daily practice for cleansing and opening to Reiki Energy. Although anyone can follow the Hatsurei-Ho meditation and enjoy it as a meditation, just follow my voice and the Reiki will flow. It is a great way to bring Reiki into your daily spiritual development. The energy will flow and assist in your connection to the Universal Life Force Energy all around.

    The second recording is for everyone. It is Reiki infused as a Reiki treatment session. It is intended as a releasing meditation that flows from your feet upwards through the body to the head. It brings awareness to parts of you holding on, and with my voice, in Reiki, it invites these places of your body to let go.

    You can download these mediations by going to my Shop at Ko-fi.com, just follow the link below.

    I request a donation for the download of my energy to your energy. Please donate to me at the link below, the donation is £5 for downloading and you can listen as often as you wish.

    Thank you for your gorgeous and generous support, I appreciate your exchange, from my heart to yours.

  • Contentment at the Level of the Heart

    Here is a new translation, from David Curtis at thegospelofmary.org

    These are my new Lights, my new impressions from the first pages with discussions from Peter with the Saviour. Here Peter asks about Sin and the Saviour answers with the words, translated by David Curtis, to ” find contentment at the level of the heart” page 8.

    This passage is speaking to me about manifesting at the level of the heart, to find contentment and find that vibration, that feeling that brings my true nature into the everyday. Here I am speaking of maintaining my balance, my harmony.

    If you wish to donate to my page to help me with these offerings online I am so very grateful, Thank you.

  • Mary Magdalene and the Red Egg

    There are stories and legends of Mary across the centuries. One of those stories is of the Red Egg that she presented to the Emperor Tiberius and it turned bright red. A miracle that was to represent to the Emperor that Christ was Risen. The story of the Egg is directly linked to the Resurrection, is this the connect of Eggs to Easter?

    Here are my thoughts on the story of the Red Egg and Mary. In this video I look at the symbolism and the links to the meaning of the egg. I feel into my own understanding of rebirth and the cycle of the seasons.

  • The Mary Magdalene Gospel Books

    And the oracle decks….😊💞🤗

    These are the books on the translations of the Gospel of Mary. I use a wide view of the translations to find a feeling, a fit, that sits right with me. The sense I get is that the Gospel speaks to us on many levels of our own emotional landscape. The experience I have, and other readers, is that the Gospel can give a new meaning, a quote, a new message each time it is read. This is what is meant by a New Light. How do I know? I have just completed a Gospel of Mary reading course. All the participants in the group experienced New Lights from the text each week! Each time it is read, over and over, it speaks to us “at the level of the heart”.

  • The 7th Power – the Gospel of Mary Magdalene

    The 7 Powers challenge the soul, this is the journey inwards in the words of the gospel of Mary. The overarching theme is to connect to the inner truth through the ascent of the soul. To call out deceptions and dominations to free or awaken to the remembrance of true nature, to Source and as the gospel states, to turn towards the Good. The 7th Power to me is where Mary is saying that the false view is to think of being cut off from source.

    The wrathfulness is felt so deeply in the wording; Where do you come from slayer, murderer Where are you going conqueror, vagabond To me the slayer is the capacity to cut us off from our true self and the vagabond is how we rob ourselves from within. This to me is all an internal journey inward and an ascent to our wisdom within that has been sleeping inside us all along.

    Translations by Jean Yves Leloup, Cynthia Bourgeault, Karen King.