74. Angels as Energy Transformers

Guardian Angels and I have been buddies from my early childhood. As a small boy I was taught a prayer to Guardian Angel and recited it for many years and on many occasions. “ Dear  Guardian Angel mine, always stand by my side ,morning, evening,day and night. Guard me from all evil and lead me to eternal salvation. Amen” . Later in life, I had a chance to talk to them through human “interpreters” (automatic writing and channeling through the internet) and have learned a bit more about those “servants-sons of the Father”, as they call themselves. In various religions their existence is acknowledged as a far memory of the human race. I presume that there was a time when they had been more visible and active in our lives, but then followed a long gap when the relationship was reduced to an absolute minimum. This was necessary because one-third of angelic hosts rebelled against their “servitude” status and were expelled to a newly formed planet Earth with their leader Samael. Not surprsingly, perhaps (because history repeats itself) their first continent to which those rebels were banished was called Lemuria, of which today’s Australia is a remnant. The Bible, in the very first verse of Genesis, mentions the mysterious Elohim (usually mistranslated as God) as the creators of heaven and earth and finally of the androgynous human being. I have been writing about these things in more detail in my other blog “Decoding The Bible”. Here I just want to mention briefly about the Hierarchies of Cosmic Beings known under various names. There are usually Nine such groups, because the other Three have separated from the Source and went their own way. I have no doubt that such Hierarchies must exist, because the Total Energy of the Universe (we may call it God, Allah, Brahma etc) is unimaginably powerful and has therefore created “Transformers” which gradually step down the primal Energy into myriad of “voltages” which will not harm those beings meant to receive it.  As human beings, we know only one source of Light, which is our star-sun. But light must exists in other forms, unknown to science. The Light of God would annihilate galaxies and stars, archangels and angels, men and all life if it blazed in its full power. What those Transformers are called is really unimportant. Their “voltage” may have been described as the number of “wings” they have (Seraphim have six) or “wheels” (Cherubim) or bz meanings hidden in their names. The Hierachies are also spoken as being arranged in three “spheres”, each containing three hierarchies or choirs. There is a tradition of those Choirs being imitated in some early monasteries. It was believed that big changes in the world come when the melody of the Choirs start changing. This is a subject worth meditating upon, because it could teach us, perhaps, to listen to the subtle changes in the Song of the Universe.

73. Glastonbury’s Sacred Footsteps

‘And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England’s pleasant pasture seen?’(Wm Blake: Jerusalem)
A new documentary film, entitled “And Did Those Feet” returns to that ancient legend deeply embedded in British minds about young Jesus coming to Glastonbury and other places in West England with his uncle, Joseph of Aramethea. What was the purpose of that journey? Was he just a young tourist, taken by his rich relative on an educational trip to other parts of the Roman Empire? Or was he a guided there by his Teachers to get initiated into the vanishing esoteric science of the Celtic Druids? There is a lot of weird theories and legends built upon legends and twisted to suit individual New Age spin-doctors. I can see no point in even mentioning them, because they are, to me, mostly products of fertile human maginations, fired by ego-driven need for recognition and money. But I should also mention that in every lie there is always a grain of truth. What could the Druids teach young Jesus? We know very little about their secret science, because Romans were alien invaders and could not be trusted to to be given the knowledge about the power of words and sounds – the core of the true druidic religion. Tree worship, human sacrifices and other outward rituals, mostly misunderstood by the Romans and further perverted by Christian missionaries, were a blind for the uninitiated mob and non- Celtic intruders. It is true also that the old druidic religion was at that time already in decline and that any true Druid secrets would have underground. As Jesus was already a High Initiate, his contact with with druid priests would have been only for the purpose of learning those mysteries of  wisdom that only they could give him. I have visited Glastonbury Abbey some years ago and had the advantage of sharing that experience with a clairvoyant friend. She said that the supposed grave of King Arthur did contain some human remains, but they were no those of Arhur or Guinevre. As far as I can recall, we did not investigate the possibility of Jesus’s footsteps in the ruins of what used to be The famous Abbey. Today, I can sense only one faint trace of those “footsteps” in a well-known, but twisted legend of Glastonbury Thorn. The legend says that Joseph of Aramathea returned to Britain shortly after Crucifxion, bring with him his nephew’s Joshua’s (Jesus) shepherd’s staff, holy symbol of His mission and going straight to Glastobury. If, as the pious legend-spinners would have it, Joseph came to preach the Gospel (it wasn’t written then) and it is hardly likely that this Jewish rich tin mines owner wouldn’t even know how to do it. His task, I guess, was to return the staff (possibly cut from a druid holy oak) to its place of origin. At the same time it was a symbol of Joshua as the High Druidic Priest-Initiate. The story goes that Joseph climbed the nearby Wearyall Hill and being a tired old man, lied down for a sleep,striking the staff into the ground. When he woke up, he saw that the staff sprouted and grew into a flowering thorn tree.  He left it there and it became for many centuries a place of pilgrimages as it blossomed at Christmas and in springtime. The symbolism of thorns (Christ’s thorn crown), blossoming at winter solstice and Spring equinox is a hidden message about Christ energy being planted all over the earth. One of the apostles, The Doubting Thomas,  was sent to India, another place of Joshua’s initiations and was killed there, on a mountain top. I have no proof to back up my version of the legend, but I know that it contains more than one grain of truth.

72. The Lost Meridian

One of my peculiar hobbies is searching for strange connections between words and meanings. I am sensitive to the sound of words. Being bilingual (Polish-English) with a surface knowledge of many other languages, from ancient Hebrew, classical Greek and Latin to many Slavonic and Germanic languages, I can sense meanings where a native speaker would probably ignore them as being irrelevant. The Web is, of course, an enormous help in my beachcombing efforts.  My search usually starts only when some words begin to strum on my memory. A few days ago it was “last meridian”, but that didn’t bring any revelations apart from some pop group noisy effort. Only when I changed it to “the lost meridian” that I stumbled on a strangely sad and yet semantically and numerically significant synchronicity. On Thursday, 26 October 2006, a Scottish fishing trawler “Meridian” was sunk with all four fishermen in a horrendous storm in the North Sea. The storm was force 10, with winds gusting 80mph. The boat  was engaged at the time in a rather unusual task of guarding Talisman Energy oil pipeline, which was being repaired. Its base was a small fishing community in Anstruther, count Fife. A spokesman of the Scottish Fishermen’s Fed. said “The missing white fish boat is a member of one of our eight associations.” Only one body was found, that of Edward Gardner, aged 50 from Cellardyke. Search for the bodies of the other three trawlermen continued well into 2007, without success. Their names were Martin Gardner,49, Ian Donald,55 and Sidney Low,52. The whole crew names come to eight words, their ages add up to 206 Meridian has eight letters. October  means the eighth month (Lat.octo=8) Numbers 26, 206 add to eight. I wonder what would have been that last meridian on which Meridian had sunk. 161? My birth number is eight, so there is, perhaps, some hidden reason why I started this search for the ill-fated Meridian. I think that “Talisman Energy” has played some occult role in that human tragedy.  

71. What Is Unreal is Really Real

The title of this blog is slightly misleading, but that is not my fault.  Everybody, including myself, regards the world experienced by our senses as the only reality we know. Like many others, I have been aware from my childhood, that there is also another world and other beings that I cannot see, hear, touch, smell or taste. In my childhood I was absolutely convinced that gnomes, fairies, elves and other fabulous beings exist, even if I couldn’t see them with my wide open eyes of a small boy. Later, I went through many beliefs: religious, occult and s-f. I have received messages from unseen “guides” through a channeling medium, who was my own eldest sister and, much later, a clairvoyant Lightworker and my best friend/teacher for many years. Today, I believe that the world of sensory perceptions is unreal, an illusion which has been already partly unmasked by scientists. They may call that weird world of quarks, hadrons, plasmas etc by any name they choose, but the fact is that science is slowly dragging us into that unseen reality which the World of Light. Light is Energy and everything that exists is made of that energy. Perhaps, even Darkness is nothing else but Light imprisoned in heavy matter. I believe that humanity is beginning to return to that reality which is Light. We are about to walk that bridge which as been dividing our two worlds. It may take many thousands of years before we get to the other shore, but what matters is always the first step as the beginning of a long journey. And that first step has already been taken. This is what has been helping me in glimpsing the real world of “ureality” – standing on that bridge.

70. My Sacred Grove On The Hill

Five months ago to the day I emigrated to another part of my Sacred Grove to perform other tasks. Today I am glad to be back. The Sacred Grove on the Hill is a timeless place with fluid boundaries. It reflects my reality. When people ask me where that magical place is, I reply: “It is here and now”. Its actual location is in the hilly “wilderness” of north-west London, but I doubt if I could find it again, though its not far from my home. Perhaps, that strange left arm of the tree with its finger pointing at some invisible object could be my signpost. The photo was taken on the 13^th November 2005, but it could have been equally taken today. Time has no meaning in that place which I preserved as its reflection in what I call my reality.  I am looking at it now, sitting in my study, but I am there in my thoughts and feelings. You can do the same. The main feature of this place is Light. On the left, the Light is scattered by a cluster of young trees, many of them still in their autumnal leaf-cover. The rays of the sun forma semi-circle of faint rainbow colours which have turned that part of the woods into a refuge for shadows and mists. A carpet od dead leaves provides a rustling dancing floor for their rituals. The old tree dominates the Sacred Grove. I could study its bark like an ancient Book of Runic Mysteries. It has so many symbolic shapes written on its wrinkled pages. Every detail contains some coded information. A timid green sapling at its feet; two barely visible strains of ivy on the lower right winding is slow way to the top; and, of course, that gnarled arm and finger, above which I can just discern a face of an old man in a strange hood. What is he pointing at? The shape of things yet to come? Who knows…The right side, in contrast, is full of light and peace. Everything is still green and seems out of time for mid-November. Closer to the tree,nearer the ground, there is a barely visible small, golden shape; perhaps, a fading leaf or a ray of sun reflected by wings of an insect. The sunny patch on the far left is enclosed by a faintly visible light green semi-circle of leaves. Perhaps, that is the open gate to another reality, because in my Sacred Grove, there are many interweaving realities. You are welcome to explore at least some of them.  Have fun.

69. Near Encounter With Lightning

Thunderstorm cloud

Last Monday a violent thunderstorm with hail passed in the late afternoon over northwest London. When it was nearly over, black clouds receding, I grabbed my digital camera to snap the white carpet of hail on the lawn outside the window. Just as I pressed the shutter, there was a flash of blinding light some 100 yards from the window – a lightining struck something right in front of me. Only when I looked at the photo on the computer, I saw two distinct balls of light emerging from the burst of that lightning hit. I am not sure whether those weird lights could have had any effect on me, but that night I couldn’t go to sleep for some hours. It felt as if my energy levels were too high. Maybe I should have grounded myself somehow, but that didn’t occur to me in the night. What those balls of light were, I have no idea. The fainter ones are easily explained by the lightning flash reflections on particles of water etc. But those two big ones look to me like something else. The lower one seems about to fall apart before it hits the ground. I wonder what my readers think about all that?  Comments would be appreciated. 

Lighting balls enhanced

68.The World of Flowing Changes

Reality has been lately approaching so close to the world of illusions that my glimpses of the unreal have become almost unreadable. What can be more unreal than a descendant of black slaves from Kenya becoming the 44^th President of the most powerful country in the world? What could be more paradoxical than a nation, whose founding Fathers declared that “all men are equal”, built its power and wealth on the blood, sweat and suffering of millions of slaves and then chose a true American mulatto as its Leader? And how very simple and yet penetrating to the very core of human longings were  his electioneering slogans “Hope -Change -Yes, we can!” It was not an illusion that millions of people all over the world , black and white, yellow and brown, listened avidly to his inauguration speech. They believe in their heart of hearts that -Yes! We can change the world if such is our belief, based on true longing. But even that reality was giving me a glimpse of something  out of this world. A weird introduction to this changing world was the suddenness with which the deceptively solid and safe world of finance started to disintegrate before my eyes. Banks became overnight a symbol of greed, recklessness and instability. Governments all over the globe started pouring money into that black hole where it simply disappeared without leaving a trace. The soothing words of the media and spin-doctors sounded more hollow than ever. Their masters couldn’t accept the truth staring them in the face: that their cosy, but unreal world came crashing down and it would never rise again in the same shape or form. All material forms have a built-in obsolescence and they have to perish, because you cannot pour “new wine of change into old bottles”. They could not withstand the powerful  fermentation process of change.  What next? There will be many changes in our complacent acceptance of everything that has been blocking the growth of human mind and spirit for much too long. The new world order is still too misty in outline to allow me a clear glimpse of what is to come. But I believe that millions of people are waking up and repeating to themselves the Obama slogans: Hope –Change-YES! WE CAN DO IT! Just be patient and go with the world of flowing changes. There will be no revolution. There will be only a Transformation.

67.That Many-Splendoured Thing

Love is a many-splendoured thing:
Once on a high and windy hill,
In the morning mist, two lovers kissed,
And the world stood still.
Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing.
Yes, true love’s a many-splendoured thing! (Matt Monroe)

That old song is actually a musical and poetical description of

chemical reactions caused by C₄₃H₆₆N₁₂O₁₂S₂ , known to scientists as oxytocin and to us,ignorant lot, as a “cuddle drug”, “liquid trust” and even a “glue of social bonding” without which we would be lonesome rogue-elephants or worse. Well, don’t take my word for it because no lesser authority than BBC Science programme has recently published the final word on defining that many-splendoured thing, given by a learned American professor of neuroscience. Love, he said, is…” just a series of chemical events.” Quite so, but it would be helpful to know which species of love are we talking about. Because there are as many “loves” as there are “lovers”. For example, those prairie voles which have led the learned academic to his conclusions have a lot of volish hormones in their bodies, but I have never been a vole, so how could I know what sweet words pass between them when they are bonding? The problem with some scientists is that they use a sylogizm “my aunt has two legs and a goose has two legs; therefore, a goose is also my aunt”. Another scientist from Oxford Univ. Future of Humanity Institute is more sceptical about love=spray of oxytocin plus a few other bits”. “We shouldn’t think that this perspective on its own provides a full understanding of what love is. “There are also evolutionary, psychological, sociological, phenomenological (a philosophical approach and method of qualitative research) and humanistic perspectives that offer important insights.” Quite so. But the lure of a sensational headline in all media is irrestible to some academics. I am not going out today to buy a sprayer of “cuddle drug”. But in the threatening financial tsunami, banks could spray their customers with that vital “trust hormone”. Some researchers suggests that when peeople are given a whiff of oxytocin they are “more generous and trusting in tasks that involve sharing money with strangers.” Sometimes I wonder if  my wallet might have been occasionally sprayed by some friends with that misty many-splendoured stuff.  Unfortunately, it is odourless. 

66. Unreal Visions of Sweet Home

Unreality begins at home. Home itself is unreal. I have always imagined Homeland with a capital H as a place where everybody has his home. We mistake space divided into rectangles and filled with things as our home. It is just another illusion, because if I move tomorrow to another set of rectangles in a different part of the world, somoe body else will move into my old home and call it his home. Spaces are filled with invisible time and equally invisible passers-by. The former is tidal and brings memories which are not my own. They belong to those who had lived in these rectangles before me. The pedestrians who pass through my spaces are humans-in-spirit. The could be described as pilgrims in search of their holy places. Some find them soon after their physical death. Others may follow deceptive trails of scintillating promises and find only a locked gate. Outside the spatial illusion called home is another fata morgana called the Outside World. At the present time it is a very cold world. London where my unreal home is located is unused to sub-zero temperatures, night after night. They create further illusions.

This morning I saw a polar bear in the back gardens. I threw him a piece of bread which made him turn into a white pidgeon. It may have been a dove. Or even the Holy Ghost. Last night the Three Magi sung carols outside my castle, which once belonged to good King Wenceslas. Everyday unreality is like this. A panorama of shifting fantasies, interwoven with bits of something that could be recognized as familiar outlines of the world perceived with my five senses.

65. Magical Year 2009 Ahead?

Well, maybe…but not for everybody, because our stars turn clockkwise for some and widdershins for others. 2009 is numerically interesting because its prime factors are 7,7,41 or 41×49, but the year itself, though not a prime, holds 29 and 11– both primes – in its heart. Horoscopes may foretell our future or not. They outline possibillities, which we can turn into probabilities and realisations – if and when we believe in them.I looked up the first horoscope for the year that opened for me in an obscure provincial weekly and this is what it predicted for everybody, like me, born in the sign of Virgo. The year will be full of mysteries and surprises (I hope so). In the Spring I will learn that even when two people look in the same direction, they rarely see the same thing (true). I am advised to be on my guard because appearances may be deceptive. I should be wary when meeting new people and it will time to review old acquaintances (those virtual ones, I think. Others have disappeared) A nice surprise for the mid-year: an unexpected long journey (other world?). In  the autumn – promotion and big financial gains. That is bad news (promotion at my age?) and good news (my bank will not go bankrupt after all). In the affairs of heart I should not count any longer on love at first sight. As lust at first sight is also unlikely, it looks a rather emotionally peaceful year. Happy New Year to all who visit here.