Reliquary
Before entering France, I had a broad, boring, generalized/Americanized idea about it. But I was fortunate enough to be brought into France across the Belgian border by colleagues who understood the country and the culture; who felt the value of experiencing it far exceeded any talk.
One of the initial things that struck me about France in general, was the extraordinary beauty; the attention paid to bringing into full shine the smallest, oldest morsels of times gone by … parts of a stone entrance … filigree brought forward that could more easily have been cast aside … archways and cobbles … gates and doors … all of it, polished, as if holding court for those who have eyes to see.
There are thousands of places, sacred, historical, architectural or geographical, that hold the keys to treasures and mysteries; lives experienced, power passed, religious loyalties aligned or extinguished … beauty to behold … it is all here in the wealth of the culture itself.
Head to the south? The veil is thin.
Consider this …
What if there was a protective Dome of Light over a vast region of southern France, a sanctuary nurturing the Divine Feminine, reaching across the ancient, chiseled landscapes south from Limoges all the way to the Mediterranean Sea?
And what if, within that Dome, were energetic anchor points; oases where you could rest your spirit and listen deeply to the embedded wisdom of the stones, the sea, the earth; sacred places to immerse your soul in the Mother and draw sustenance to re-ignite purposeful living?
Starting in the early ’90s, I began to explore this mysterious and captivating space, what I’ve come to call La Dôme de la Mère, or The Dome of the Mother.
And within that regionally protected space? You could find yourself easily, unwittingly plunged into the spiritually historical vapor trails, say, of the doomed medieval gnostics, the Cathars, who though now lay resting in the Earth – have left a light behind.
EXTRAORDINARY.
From Toulouse to Mont Segur, Albi to Carcassonne, Beziers and beyond, there is so much to consider … so much to discover … so much to assimilate …
Perhaps you might travel farther east across the south, and stand at the Palace of Popes in Avignon where power transferred in then out by virtue of the Church’s positions any given century, where powerful popes ruled Christendom and determined futures that have come to pass.
… Or Consider …
There is a path taken by Mary Magdalene when she arrived in Gaul after fleeing Palestine in the wake of Christ’s crucifixion, the entry port south of Arles, a journey that continues east to St Maximin la Ste Baume, where she spent the last 30 years of her life, in a grotto high in the Massif.
UNBELIEVABLE.
And yet in the south of France? It is ordinary reality. Here there are dimensional shifts by virtue of what you open to receive.
How would you construct your journey? Would it include any of the above windows of experience? Could it be a pilgrimage?
There are facets to explore from le terroir to the heavens.
The bottom line, is at whatever level of life and living you are seeking, from the mundane to the Divine, The South of France holds it, and mirrors it back to you a thousand-fold.
MEET ESSENCE.
From bountiful village markets to soaring cathedral spires, from breath-taking mountain vistas to ancient Mediterranean beaches, from silent forests and fields to magnificent cityscapes, stepping foot into La Dôme de la Mère is a heart-rendering experience.
The local, regional French tip their heads, raise their shoulders and say,
‘Ah, oui! C’est la vie ici !’ This is LIFE here!
GOLDEN.
