Mary Magdalene, Shaman: Awakening to the Indigenous Christian Soul

By Sara Taft

This book is the story of a physical ordeal, a liver transplant, which was also a profound spiritual transformation. By welcoming information from unusual sourcesincluding dreams, visions, and synchronistic eventsand deepening all of this into a coherent whole through the study of psychology, astrology, and art, Sara awakened to the realization that spirit infuses matter. Sara sought out the many faces of the sacred feminine, going beyond her traditional Christian upbringing and marking herself as a heretic.

What no one could have predicted is that Saras journey beyond Christianitya journey that took her to the remote Australian outback, a sweat lodge in an Arizona desert, soaring cathedrals in the south of France, and a sterile operating room at Cedars Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeleswould return her to a home she never knew. As she listened for the first time to the stories she had never been told, she would meet Mary Magdalene as a shaman and understand her undying devotion to her beloved Jesus. It was through the Magdalene that Sara fully realized His promise that the kingdom of heaven is within. Mary Magdalene knew this in every cell of her being, and this knowledge is her gift to Sara. This book, beautifully illustrated with Saras own paintings, offers a hopeful message to those facing life-threatening illness and traumatic loss and shows how physical ordeal is a spiritual opportunity. It speaks to heartbroken Christians who, like Sara, can find fresh inspiration in the original teachings of Jesus.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jan 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781452587165

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Copyright © 2013 .

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Taft, Sara.

Mary Magdalene, Shaman: Awakening to the Indigenous Christian Soul. 1st ed.

For information:

[e-mail]

www.sarataft.com

Author photo credit: Rich Schmitt

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4525-8716-5 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 12/30/2013

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Contents

Dedication

Special Acknowledgment and Dedication

Acknowledgements

Forward

Bare Bones

List of Images

Prologue

Part One:Spiritual Preparation

Part Two:The Transplant

Part Three:Spiritual Integration

Epilogue:Two Questions

End Notes

Endorsement

Sara’s book is an inspiring spiritual testimony to the power of the sacred feminine personified by Mary Magdalene. Sara’s relationship to Magdalene is lovingly and tenderly expressed in her evocative paintings and dreams. This work is essential reading for those of us who would like to do justice to a neglected but important figure in our religious history.

I hope the book does well; it’s a magnum opus, and I was deeply touched by it.

Dr. Lionel Corbett, MD, PhD.

Psyche and the Sacred: Spirituality Beyond Religion.

Dedication

To you, my unknown donor:

Each day now I live by Grace. The miracle is being alive.

To you who have died and saved another,

you participated in the Christian mystery,

the universal mystery of life, death, and rebirth.

No matter how long we both live,

since you are alive in me and keep me alive

our souls are richer now for having experienced this.

My prayer is to live each moment of the precious life you gave me

With Love.

Special Acknowledgment and Dedication

Without the gift of life from my donor I might not still be here but without the gift of my outstanding editor and collaborator, Elizabeth Nelson, this book would not be.

We met in the autumn of 2009 at a workshop Elizabeth co-taught with Laurence Hillman to explore our writing skills as shown in the individual astrological chart. Elaborately illustrated with wonderful slides and amazing storytelling skills I fell under the spell of both of these presenters. Write! I went up to Elizabeth at the end, my voice quivering a bit, and asked her, Do you personally help people write memoirs? She nodded a yes, I wrote her number on the back of my notes, and then we met just about every week for the next three and a half years, excluding vacations and breathing time. She would arrive on her bicycle at the Santa Monica library, laptop in her backpack, and a silver helmet on her head. I imagined wings on her helmet and on her fee – the perfect embodiment of Hermes.

Everything I lack, Elizabeth possesses. You know, one of those complementary relationships. I had an interesting and dramatic story but I’d never written a memoir. She had the technical and creative skills to stitch it together, time and time, again as we wove the material from different angles. How did she do this? She listened with the ears of a lynx, she questioned like a forensic trial attorney, and she summarized and helped me articulate complicated events, feelings, and dimensions. She kept me refocusing and reopening the lens of my experience, and our journey together deepened as we dug up the bones of my life. Above all Elizabeth was kind, with no edge to her suggestions. Our relationship was strong enough that I could withstand the criticism necessary to make it a beautiful book. When there was a mistake she’d just say confidently, We can fix it. Here’s how. And then her fingers would fly across the keyboard with the speed of Hermes.

At the beginning she said, You’ll write this like a story. I said, You mean with dialogue? She said, Yes. I said, I don’t know how. She said, with a lilt in her voice, You’ll learn! People like stories.

Respecting her experience and scholarship, sometimes I would lose my own poetic voice thinking she knew how to say things better than I. Then later, reading passages alone while unrushed, my own voice and vision which is more poetic and mystical and less scholarly than hers, would reassert itself. I spoke up and Elizabeth listened. I didn’t lose myself. This is the greatest gift I received and why I feel so passionate about writing this memoir.

The most unexpected gift of our collaboration, besides this book, is that it strengthened characteristics in me like persistence, discipline, honesty, fortitude, and courage. It has been a transformative relationship. Relationships in my life have taken me to my nadir, but this one gave me the opportunity to facet old patterns of thoughts and behavior and feel like a diamond cutter. Surprisingly, writing this memoir has altered my manner of relating outside of this project and given me a newfound confidence and freedom to be myself. Never too late.

The experience of meeting the right person at the right time is one of the great mysteries of living. These synchronous happenings remind me again and again there is invisible radar in my soul that magnetizes me to the person, place, or thing that will open new possibilities of creativity. The secret is having the ears to listen and the courage to follow that small voice or gentle nudge, even when you are scared. As I dove into the fear and wrote, the fear went away and I felt proud of myself. Elizabeth brought the hidden warrior in me out onto the page.

Thank you, Elizabeth, for being who you are. Your gifts to me are more than I ever imagined.

Acknowledgements

To the medical team, modern day shamans. Cedars-Sinai Liver Transplant Center, in Los Angeles, California, has an exceptional team of medical experts who created and held a space for my experiential healing. Even if they don’t think of themselves as shamans, I do. I owe tremendous gratitude to Dr. Steven Colquhoun, the master surgeon who implanted the new liver, Dr. Christopher Shackleton, assisting surgeon, Dr. Walid Arnaout, the surgeon who harvested the liver from my donor, and Dr. John Vierling and Dr. Tse-Ling Fong, hepatologists. The team also included two terrific transplant coordinators, Kristine Acorda, R.N., Vesna Grubic, R.N., Patty Flores, my pharmacist, and Cassandra Loch, MSW.

To my acupuncturist. Amir Zagross, LAC, in Santa Monica, CA, the one who kept needling me.

To my family. Skip Taft, my loyal former husband of twenty-one years, benevolently shared his spiritual support and faith throughout my life and the life of our family. His humor and steadfastness kept the keel in the water when the boat was listing. My children Jim, Linda and Allison who grew me into the person I am today. They have taught me how to walk my talk and accept them as they really are. My beautiful grandchildren, all seven of them, show me that consciousness is evolving, the sacred feminine is alive in the world today, and that the life I’ve lived makes sense.

Several family members became my advocates at a crucial time. Janet Peterson Holman, O.T.R, my loyal and determined sister from Colorado Springs, came to my rescue at the peak of the crisis prior to the transplant. Janet accompanied me to the transplant center and urged the doctors to see what she s – a jaundiced and lethargic sister who could barely walk. Jennifer Steele, my niece, encouraged me to call a friend of hers for tips on how he got his new organ. His words were, Stay on their radar screen. Tell them about every little thing that isn’t working. And I did. Mitzi Brown, R.N., who I’ve known for 50 years and is like a sister to me, suggested submitting my name to other transplant centers around the county so I would have a better chance of getting a liver. When Spooky Taft, my daughter-in-law, saw how ill I was, she offered to get a private plane to fly me wherever I could get a new liver, fast.

Bob Pike, my spiritual godfather, faithful astrology mentor, and dearest friend, was a wise messenger of the heavens. Bob gave me my life’s mantra, You will need to die to know who you are. Before, during, and after the transplant, he was my constant companion. Bob, along with Anna Stuart, my remarkable nurse, helped me with the intense, daily work of recovery. Anna bathed me and monitored my elaborate medications, cleaned complicated dressings and made delicious food to help me regain weight I had lost. After Anna left, Laurie Elliot, R.N, my housemate of many years, helped organize the huge amount of medicine I had to take, which would have been overwhelming without her expertise.

Finally, no tribute to my family would be complete without mentioning my parents, Enid and Pete Peterson, and Skip’s parents, Vivian and Leroy Taft. Their guiding principles of self honesty, responsibility for my actions and reliance on God formed my character and shaped my way of undergoing the entire transplant journey.

To all the shamans who tended my spirit.

To my psycho-spiritual teachers, counselors, and supporters. The Agape International Spiritual Center in Culver City, California, held me through the entire transplant journey. Its extraordinary choir washed away my fear, doubt, and worry, and the eloquence of Agape’s leader, Dr. Reverend Michael Bernard Beckwith, called me to have faith in the unseen world. Two other noteworthy Agape community members were Avara Yaron, who provided spiritual direction and met with me weekly for prayer, and Rebecca Edwards, who prayed with me every morning.

Marea Claassen, a pioneer in exploring the sacred feminine across myths, cultures, and religions, led our group, The Sisters of the Mysteries, to Australia. Marea, who is a Jungian analyst and wise dream weaver, helped me grow a more spacious consciousness and integrate the spiritual attributes of the feminine.

Jackie Porter, Brenda Jacklin, and Marjorie Erway led our pilgrimage to France. They helped us to discover as well as uncover our relationship with early Christian women: Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, the beloved of Jesus, and Martha, who tamed the dragon.

Brugh Joy, M.D., healer and author, was a spiritual master and teacher of the mysteries of transformation. He skillfully led large groups of people to explore their souls through the wisdom of the heart center. Working with dreams, rituals and the teachings of Carl Jung, Brugh truly honored our humanity so we could honor our own human processes.

Lauren Schneider, my mystical psychotherapist, patiently listened to my story, interpreted my dreams, and offered hope and compassion when things got tough. She said from the beginning, You will receive a liver. She facilitated a dream group in my home for ten years, and introduced me to her original creation Tarotpy.

Many loyal friends became the oars pulling my boat through deep and choppy waters. To name a few: Judy Harte, Laurie Elliott, Susan Richey, Cate Reilly, Leine Delker, Marguerite Kummrow, Jane Shere, Geneen Whitwer, Susan Varjavand, Karen Schneider, Joyce Black Sears, Kathryn Renz, Marguerite Stouthamer, Sheri Penney, Jack Weber, Hadley Fitzgerald, Sally Clark, Genet Bosque, Merilee Beckman, Joan Wages, and all of the Sisters of the Mysteries. Without them I wouldn’t have made it. Their heartfelt prayerful support showed me how to be a true friend. Their love proved to me beyond question that love abides in all circumstances, even when we forget. Some of these cherished friends also took time to read my seafaring manuscript in all of its different phases. I thank you.

Cherla Leonardini and Kristi Jack, a delightful mother and daughter team, helped me in profound ways. Cherla visited me daily at Cedars-Sinai while I waited for a liver. Kristi urged me to publish my first little book, Mary Magdalene, A Legendary Biography and Paintings.

My cousin Doug, his partner Maris, and their children Betsy, Wendy, and Randy, carried my name to synagogues all over the Los Angeles area, praying for a new healthy liver and a complete recovery.

Andrew Galambos, brilliant astrophysicist and founder of The Free Enterprise Institute, offered a radical vision of freedom that guided many of my personal and social choices. Alvin Lowi, Jr. creatively applied these principles through his brilliant teaching, clarity, and enthusiasm. Andrew and Alvin helped start my own intellectual revolution, launching me out of my consensus thinking and showing me the necessity of freedom on all levels.

Mary Estes, now deceased, and vibrant Pat Backer were my partners in starting the Carden Elementary School in the sixties. We wanted to walk our talk and see if free enterprise could support a vibrant, independent education. We started with 15 students and grew to 150, pioneers in what is now the flourishing independent school movement.

My brilliant and dearest partner of eight years, Gerald McLaughlin, showed me that even the former Dean of a Catholic law school could be open to Mary Magdalene. Our mutual interest in the Magdalene brought us together. We met at an exhibition of my paintings. Gerry encouraged me to give voice to my controversial spiritual thinking. Just write what you want to say. Pay no attention to what others think. Thank you, Gerry, for your love, support and friendship.

To the artists and teachers who encouraged me to paint. My thanks to Ada Brown, Ken Bracken, George Small, Linda Jacobsen, and Paul Heusenstamm who helped me express my spiritual thinking in another form.

To Conrad Satala, psychotherapist, healer and Mayan Shaman. Conrad, when you urged me to write this book, you warned me what an ordeal it would be. Becoming a storyteller is another initiation, you said. You were right! But all along, your love and support were unwavering.

One final acknowledgment. When I look around the world and compare the freedoms we have in America with other places, I am profoundly grateful. Yes, our society has many flaws, but I have the liberty to write and publish this memoir, and to express my feelings without fear of harm or reprisal.

The older I get, the more I know how fortunate I am. By writing this memoir, I really do taste the wine of my life. And, it is good.

Forward

This is a love story. An unconventional one, to be sure, but a love story nonetheless. It’s about a woman who had to face death in order to discover the deep, authentic ground of life – her life, as no one else could live – and in doing so found her indigenous spiritual roots by returning to a Christianity she never really knew.

Like all love stories, this one features a beloved, though this beloved is not a living, breathing person. Rather, she is Mary Magdalene, the companion and disciple of Jesus, a woman reviled and revered throughout history. As you will read, Magdalene was the mysterious figure who accompanied Sara for decades on a far-reaching spiritual journey – from a small home in Los Angeles to the vast Australian Outback, as a loving presence in the Arizona desert and honored for centuries in shrines, cathedrals, and caves throughout France. Over the course of four decades, Sara slowly recognized Mary Magdalene as her guiding spirit, companion, and inspiration. In the last 15 years, this devotion flourished in a series of paintings of the Magdalene, many of which appear in these pages. Yet my own sense is that Sara’s relationship with the Magdalene deepened as she crafted this memoir. In finding the words to tell this love story, Sara discovered Magdalene the Shaman more precisely, more beautifully than ever before. Here, Mary Magdalene is revealed as one of the many faces of the sacred feminine whose loving presence at the side of Jesus can reunite heartbroken Christians with their spiritual tradition as well as inspire others who walk a different spiritual path.

Though this memoir is an act of devotion to Mary Magdalene, it also is Sara’s devotion to her own fate, the human journey that we all make. Early in her life, one of Sara’s mentors foretold that she would have to die or something like it in order to understand the purpose of her life. She was within days of dying when a miracle occurred. A magnificent team of doctors at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles gave her a new, healthy liver. Though Sara still speaks in glowing terms of the transplant team, she also never forgets the young man, a 16-year-old gunshot victim, whose death made her renewed life possible. Many times while we worked on this book, Sara spoke of the miraculous gift as an awesome responsibility: She has to live a meaningful life for two people now by honoring her unknown donor in everything she does. This memoir is dedicated to him.

Composing a memoir of this depth is no easy task. It takes thousands of hours of remembering, writing, and re-writing, working with bold and delicate strokes to visualize the telling dramatic moments that, when pieced together, tell a life. I know this from decades of guiding authors, but I doubt Sara did when we first met at a writing seminar I co-taught in November 2009. What sort of journey would it be, particularly for a woman whose creative medium is oil paint and not words? The answer is here, in the beauty of her language. Together we have evoked Sara’s distinctive voice – alternately playful and serious, sharp and wise, and always full of passion – and helped it onto the page.

I have come to cherish Sara as a dear friend. We often say to one another, would you ever have imagined this when we first began? The answer is no. But I can truly say I can’t imagine my life these last few years without Sara Taft. She is the gift.

Elizabeth Eowyn Nelson

April 17, 2013

Bare Bones

Bare Bones

Yes, things have to get down to bare bones –

To the place where muscles sore and hot like fire,

Burn my flesh into cinder before I create.

I create to survive.

My age like a curse or curved scythe presses

The time edged clock into my mind

And my leaden body. It ticks faster

Than the beat of my heart

Bringing panicky chills

That I won’t survive long enough to create.

Why create I say?

But there is a dark figure inside

That pulls me down

Down to my grief

Down to my roots

Down to the compost of my life.

Does he – or do I push myself head long,

Into this brooding and velvety place

To touch my passion to stay alive?

Maybe it’s both of us – a team –

Surviving the modern world’s enemies

Indifference – cynicism – death

And the terror of surviving in those

Dead places fully alive.

Yes, Bare Bones, take me to life.

— Sara Taft

List of Images

The Fertilizing Goddess: The living cells of the ancient Great Mother Earth Goddess, called Melissae. Fertilizing, pollinizing, connecting, bees show us the significance of gathering from many to make One. Acrylic and collage on wood.

Painting Pink Center: The emergence of light upon the death of my mother. As my first healing image, it heralded a new unknown center emerging from death that brought me healing in times of loss and a new sense of the feminine. Oil on vellum.

Mysterious Woman: A new sense of my own powerful feminine center. Magdalene becomes my inspiration for continuing to