Continued from PART 1
Soon after I returned from Eastern Europe in 1994, I traveled to Philadelphia, PA and toured the Masonic Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, which just “happened” to be located three blocks from my hotel. I did not know what a Grand Lodge was, nor did I have a clue as to its purpose. But as providence would have it, I entered the building just as an official tour was about to begin. I was the only woman in the tour group. The rest were Freemasons.
A new world opened for me that afternoon. Questions surfaced as I walked through the various lodge rooms and finally found myself in a special room, gazing into the dome of the starry night sky. Something stirred inside that changed me forever; something beautiful and warm! It reminded me of a home that I could not recall the particulars of, but yearned to see again and to return to.
Over time, this gradual opening of the mind and expansion of the senses laid the groundwork for a many more serendipitous confluences. My business and pleasure travels seemed to be transformed into Templar field trips. In many cities, I easily found Scottish Rite Temples and made friends with curators and librarians, from Santa Fe NM, Detroit MI, Madison WI, Austin TX, Boston MA, Scotland, England, Italy, Cayman Islands, and France. The clues were gathering but…I was still looking for a way “through the Templar door.”
I sought application to the Feminine Masonic Lodge in Los Angeles, but neither the timing nor the distance seemed to fit. Bitterly disappointed that my outer life could not conform to my desire to join a Lodge, I continued my private studies and education process as best I could.
In 1996, my very first night in Edinburgh, Scotland was summer solstice and I spent the night gazing into the brilliant midnight blue starry sky. My roommate thought I was crazy, but my heart was lighter than I could ever remember. Edinburgh filled me with such joy, so I spent many holidays there. And I spent time in the Grand Lodge in contemplation on my situation.
When Rosslyn Chapel popped up on my radar screen in 1999, (before the ‘Da Vinci’ craze,) my interest in Templar history expanded into more than a hobby. Yet, I had given up hope of finding a Lodge who would accept me as member and resigned myself to traveling this road alone.
My visits to Rosslyn Chapel were always comforting and interesting. Just as Edinburgh had filled me with joy, Rosslyn filled me with calm and a feeling of returning to my spiritual “home.” The Glen and the River Esk spoke the language of my heart and I was happy. But nagging desire to understand Rosslyn’s symbols haunted me, as though I were attached to an invisible cord that was reeling me in like a trout, gently yet firmly. I could not taste blood from a hook in my mouth because it was lodged in my heart!!!