Gabriel saves the burned Soul

I went to bed around midnight and no sooner had I lain down when I realized I was being drawn out through my inner eye, as happened very often during that era, until it was happening at almost all times.

During the initial stage of the journey I was not really conscious of it being either an ascent or a descent, as the world is round, but I later realized it had probably been a descent. Very near the start I seemed to be travelling through a vast tunnel of ‘cloud’-like gaseous material that was not black but was dark – like ink in water – and seemed smoky.

At the end of this very large tunnel was a blazing orange light which looked incredibly fiery, like the sun or a furnace. I let myself be drawn up the tunnel without thinking too much about what was happening, dispassionately, you might say.

I do not know what happened next, for all went blank, but I do know that when I emerged into the next ‘scene’ I was no longer ‘one’, but was split in two. My consciousness and reason – ‘me’, the part with my mind – was in a high up place watching for my ‘other’ (etheric, soul, spirit?) self, although we did not realise this until we actually saw this ‘other’ part.

All around me was very clear, pale blue sky – all was airy and light – and I realized at once we were very high up. Below me was a large platform – basically a flat, white cloud – and I observed ‘my self’ arrive at the base of this platform and cling to it as if for dear life, looking not just exhausted, but on the verge of death.

I must have been given some kind of ‘prompt’ as a thought/word sprang into my head in that instant and I spoke it gleefully, like a pupil who’s cracked the exam, a bit like with ‘Capricorn’:

“Gabriel!”

A split second later, with barely a breath between them, another word was said very quietly, from behind me. This was, ‘Satan’.

The voice which had whispered this last attempted to tell me I’d ‘failed’, that I was lost, but I was not in doubt because it was very plain to see that my first thought had been of ‘Gabriel’, which I reasserted this very firmly. I was not for having my mind poisoned and at that point in time was able to resist this kind of pollution.

The White Age

Come back now

Thank goodness that was over – a second more and I would definitely have started panicking – I wasn’t at my best underwater, but so often seemed to find myself in that position whenever I became conscious of my situation.

Why, I asked myself, did ‘holidays’ almost invariably end with being captured by the sea? The only time I had really experienced a watery destination and had managed to avoid going under was when I had gone to the prior existence of the light side with Peter, a place of virtual hieroglyphic communication, very close to the ancient Sanskrit lands. How I would love to recall that tale, for it was truly the epic journey of my most sublime imagination, an Arabian night made day.

There, the water had been azure, the vista of magical blue eternity studded with islands of far-reaching heart-felt wishes. A breathtaking view indeed and if I should ever recall or revisit that fathomless beach of my Odyssey, surely I would declare unto it the homage of a thousand sighs in words, without weeping.

This was the fantasy of the East as it was in the eye of the creator, reflection in light of the land near and far, mystical pre-incarnation of a maharaja’s dream. Never before seen were those crystal quartets of jewel-like structures, the bathing houses of ideal dimension, gleaming quadratics, defined manifestations of the glittering perception of marble queens. This was no ordinary era, it was the utmost peak of infinity. It was the white age.

There were reams of turquoise, ether avenues of ultraviolet stone, columns of mystique, the foundations of purity in a destination almost unseen, all at the origin of eternity’s horizon, whilst onward stretched the shore of our forever on the smoothest sea of love….

It’s at this point that my memory fails, though in my minds eye I still see the crystal waters, which none can remove from my understanding of mysteries, far beyond the green of the Zoroastrian glade.

Not too far back