Entering the Cave
A glimpse into our Glastonbury magic & what to expect this winter
“All natures, all forms, all creatures exist in and with one another, and they will be resolved again into their own roots.”
- The Gospel of Mary
These words from the opening passages of the The Gospel of Mary speak to us across time and space about the true nature of our interconnectedness and all that fundamentally lies beneath the surface.
Whether we look outside at the trees or up at the sky, we are met with a reflection of what is ancient and eternal. These cycles of life and the seasons fall onto the “wheel of life,” an ancient symbol of a circled cross that is round like the compass to your own North Star.
At the peak of summer we launched The Magdalene Thread, sharing stories around an ancient, enigmatic woman and all she touches.
We began this project standing in a paddock of buttercups and sheep, not knowing what the future held, but we followed inspiration into glorious fun, flow, and magic at every turn—which found it’s way to you through our essays and podcast episodes.
Years as stay-at-home mothers to our children, eight in total across our two families spanning ages 2 to 15, we have learned that following the rhythms of life is essential to both vitality and groundedness.
The fall season asked new questions of us: what was next?
We knew one thing for certain—we were called to Glastonbury, and somehow the stars aligned for us to board an airplane with two tickets, not only as writers and researchers, but as best friends on an adventure that felt miraculous.
A place where ancient indigenous symbols and stories meet and weave with Christianity, our pilgrimage to “Avalon” met us with unexpected discoveries.
Overcast, and cool, wind whipping through our hair, but one lone buttercup greeted us at the base of our climb up the Tor, with sheep scattered around. Still damp from our dip in the White Spring, the energy of joy and mystery is what carried us up all 305 steps.
Brief as our trip was, our days traveling from New York to the the English countryside, with a final stop at the Tower of London, were sacred and transformative.
In a way, all that was potent, packed, and fast on this trip mirrored the speed and depth of the fourteen pieces we had published here from June through October. Insights, downloads, and the research continued to build. We waited patiently to be shown how to share it next as we felt, with the seasons changing, that there was a shift being shown to us.
Together, we held a space of possibility for what was to transpire at The Magdalene Thread and as usual, we were led forward—as each of us is by the divine, even when it only speaks to us in the most subtle of forms.
Synchronicities have always been a guiding force—the signs, symbols, clues, messages that let you know “you’re on the right path, keep going!” England generously bestowed these upon us in abundance. It only takes the “eyes to see and ears to hear,” a skill honed during years of trying to do it “our way,” as we continue to work at embracing the messy art of surrender.
“Rest, integrate, let go” is what seemed to whisper from the bottom of the red spring’s well, as clearly as familiar words echoed to us on what elements of our English adventure to share publicly. “Keep it sacred,” the heart said, in defiance of what may be the “right” way to grow an online platform.
Again autumn called to us, leaves gently falling as we drove through winding Somerset roads, asking: what do you need to let go of, what needs to be harvested, and what to be composted?
Winter asks less questions and more so insists on subtle actions, especially in the cold of the North. She forces us to remember us that the roots growing deep beneath the soil’s surface are no less important than the flowers blooming midsummer. Like the empty tree limbs, this season may look bleak, but in truth it is a magical time of fostering future growth through maximizing resources.
Perhaps if we were younger, and not mothers, we would ignore the energetics of the wheel of life and forge ahead at a rapid pace.
But the blessing of our many years on unique spiritual and personal journeys, as well as from working together, is that we have learned through experience to following the greater rhythms of life. This is our version of “the feminine” way.
The healing powers of the natural world are unlocked only when we surrender and follow the spiral path that will unfold in time, like a fern shooting out of the damp, even snowy, soil in early spring to slowly open, unfurling in harmony with the Fibonacci sequence.
In the space between the falling leaves and renewal of spring, the world seems still, but in fact, each and every creature from the plants to the animals are being “resolved again into their own roots” through their dormant nature, in the words of the Savior in Mary’s gospel.
Mary Magdalene is known, according to French legend, to have retreated to a cave in her later years, mirroring the way the gospel written in her name guides spiritual seekers on an interior pathway of gnosis—not unlike other female Christian mystics from Marguerite Porete to Teresa of Avila.
What these women knew is that the quiet, interior pathway is not darkness and cold, but cozy, magical, and necessary for both creativity and spiritual connection.
Over the years, we have each learned the hard way what it takes to be whole—the levels of nourishment, mixed with realistic optimism, an openness to possibility, living from the heart, and following flow, even when it takes us like Frozen’s Elsa “into the unknown.”
While The Magdalene Thread may mirror the winter months, in truth, we will be living, breathing, growing, even singing under the surface while creating from the roots up all that will burst forth and bloom in divine timing.
What may read as darkness to you, dear reader, whom we cherish, is the cave of creativity we now sit within.
Flow, that sense of alignment both intuitively felt and recognized by psychological science, has spoken—not unlike Florence and the Machine whose words rang out in our rental car as we drove past Stonehenge, “it’s always darkest before the dawn.”
To be perfectly honest, we are absolutely brimming with inspiration and epiphanies, in a way that almost makes it hard to rest—and even sleep! We cannot wait to bring all that is pouring through us to you at the highest level of integrity and excellence that you have come to expect (we hope) from our work here.
We remain deeply grateful for your sacred attention as subscribers and readers—fellow seekers on a path that has connected us each with the Magdalene.
Spring will come, and we will return to sharing in this space, but for now we will do our best to rest in the silence of our cave.
xx,
Alicia & Kelly
In the coming months all will be quiet here, but you can subscribe (it’s free!) to receive the latest when we begin sharing again.
Thank you for all of your work so far. Rest well!
I look forward to your return! May your wintering be restorative.