Why I cried in the Louvre in Paris...

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I walked into the Louvre with one single intent: to visit the Ancient Egyptian collection. As I passed through the famed glass pyramid and descended into the matrix that is the museum, I marveled at the sheer breadth of this storehouse of antiquities. 

Walking through collection after collection, I did not stop until I reached the green sign that let me know that I’d found my intended location: The home of Ancient Egyptian Antiquities. 

My eyes immediately found the eye of Horus, painted and shaped with turquoise and black. I meandered then into the next room, which housed ancient sarcophagi - most painted with Isis, the Ancient Egyptian Mother Goddess who lives still, in and through, so many of us. 

As I gazed into the images painted on the ancient wood, I felt my heart connect with the Ancients. A well of emotion rose within me and I started crying, quickly wrapping my pink scarf around my head to give me a bit of privacy, as fellow museum-goers moved all around me. In the well of emotion, I knew something to be true - I missed Egypt. What Egypt was. I desperately missed life among my Priestesses and brothers of Isis and Hathor, Osiris and Horus. My heart broke open, until I was reminded of something Mary Magdalane told me etherically while in her Grotto in Southern France, “don’t long for the past, the present houses what you truly desire and need”. 

I breathed in and continued to walk around the room. Again I stared at another image of Isis, and was met by a wave of remembrance. This time, the remembrance showed me hatred I still carried in my being, which still deeply affected me to this day. It is hard to admit, but I hated my sisters in that moment. Not all of them. But I remembered the dissolving of the sanctuaries we’d created, how some women chose to “sell out”, in the terminology we use today. How they paraded their positions of power or Priestessing to the Patriarchal elite, for safety, luxury, or more power, diminishing the true aspect of who we were as devotees to the Divine Feminine. Confusing the publics view of how to return home to the heart space, and convoluting everything we had worked for. 

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Again, I started crying, as I am now as I type this. I felt where I had stored this hatred, deep in my root chakra. I felt how this comes up in my life as Im wary of fellow sisters, especially those in a position of leadership, as I now understood on deeper levels, I subconsciously question the integrity of many whom I meet. 

I also noticed the way I judge this pattern in me. Part of me enacting the fear, and part of me judging it, because that’s not the way I’m supposed to relate to my fellow women. 

All of this came up and I wept, but after I left the Louvre, I knew something had been cleared. I remembered more of myself. And I know that something was lifted yesterday. I know I’ll continue to see remnants of this pattern come up in my life - mistrust in powerful sisters - but now I can have more compassion for this shadow side, because I know it’s not from a place of malevolence. Deep down, it’s from a desire for clarity, and integrity. And in compassion for my shadow, I can heal it. 

Blessings be to all beings, and may we open to the true codes of remembrance that are offered to us, everyday.