Elohim I: Bed of Roses? (Almost there...)

(http://www.crystalrivers.com/poetry/kerubiel.html)

Part 1: Into a new cycle

Yeshua said: This Heaven will pass away, and the one above it will pass away. The dead are not alive, and the Living will not die. During the days when you ate what is dead, you made it Alive. When you are in the Light, what will you do? On the day when you were One, you became two. But when you become two, what will you do?

(Gospel of Thomas, Saying 11)

In the primordial ocean was EVERYTHING and NOTHING - ALFA and OMEGA. I AM. From BEING everything originates. In BEING, PRESENCE is: the proximity of God. God is the Creator - is Creation - always has been and always will be into eternity. Complete Peace, complete Harmony, no separation - everything IS.

(Channelled in Danish by A-M Sunday 14th December 2008 and translated into English by the author.)

Chapter 1: The fairytale

Yeshua said: If the flesh came into being because of spirit, that is a marvel, but if spirit came into being because of the body, that is a marvel of marvels. Yet I marvel at how this great wealth has come to dwell in this poverty.

(Gospel of Thomas, Saying 29)

This morning I went to see my dentist - or rather it was his dental hygienist I had an appointment with. That was highly unusual - I have never had such an appointment before, but when I last saw my dentist he said that I had so much tartar that I should see his dental hygienist in between my visits to him. That was months ago, but the timing turned out to be perfect, for just a few days earlier one of my molars had started aching and had become rather cold-sensitive. It did not seem serious, but I thought it was convenient that I had this appointment - if something was wrong it would probably be discovered by the dental hygienist.

When she got to work on my teeth we soon discovered that my mucosal reflexes were unusually active this morning - in fact they were so active that she could not use her usual machines for cleaning my teeth, but had to do it by hand. That was convenient too, for I have gold crowns on two of my molars and scraping my teeth made her notice that one of the crowns had come loose. In another strike of good fortune my dentist most unusually had a hole in his schedule at exactly that time, so I had the crown fixed right away.

So four months ago I had an appointment set up for the time my crown would come loose, then I was on that very day served the nausea to have it diagnosed, and an opening was put in place to have the problem fixed on the spot.

This series of apparently very timely incidents occurring over such a space of time seriously questions the established scientific dogma about our world as a house of random events, but this is just how my life unfolds these days, and it is how my book project unfolds too. I have known for months that the third book would represent my Bed of Roses, and that it would be a very special book - perhaps the ruby of the collection in some ways - but just a week and a half ago, when I completed the first draft of High Priest, I had no idea what would go into that Bed of Roses. The contents only started dawning on me yesterday while I sorted the material already on hand into what goes into the third, fourth, and fifth books, respectively - and now that I start writing I have the opening of the introduction served like this. The Angels - or They - must have known for months that this was when I would start writing the third book, while I don’t even know how this book ends - all I know is that it will write itself in just the right way…

When I was about to start drafting the present manuscript, They told me a fairytale in my alpha state one night. It incorporated the concept of a Christmas card that I should send to all e-mail addresses in my mail box 21st December, at the winter solstice - and the energy in the fairytale was what I should write my Season Greetings and this book from.

The Christmas card became a pretty long tale, where, among other things, I publicly announced my retreat from a strictly earthly concept of reality. The announcement was made to move me to a point where I could no longer retreat - now the only way would be forward.

The full text in the Christmas card I have not included into my books, but the fairytale follows here:

My life has turned into a magic tale - and it is a true fairytale complete with a Knight in shining white armour, a Fair Maiden, a dragon that keeps her in captivity, and a dragon-keeper that fights the Knight to defend the dragon and keep the Fair Maiden in her captivity.

Unfortunately God may have seen too many Monty Python movies, for in this version of the age-old story the Fair Maiden turned out to be deeply in love with the dragon, so once the Knight came her way, she sent him away again, preferring to stay with the dragon. She also behaved more like an armed and armoured warrior - another Jeanne d’Arc - than as a Fair Maiden. In fact she probably saw herself as more of a warrior than her Knight was, and in a final ironic twist to the story she even decided to trust the dragon-keeper over the Knight.

A rather absurd version of a fairytale, isn’t it? All of this, though, was brought about by the witchcraft of the dragon-keeper, who in Atlantean times had managed to sneak crystals into my Fair Maiden’s Heart and third eye - just like the Snow Queen sneaked ice crystals into Gerda to distort her Heart and her view of things in the Hans Christian Andersen fairytale - so she forgot where she truly belonged and who she really Loved.

The actual setting of the fairytale is that I met my Fair Maiden - Arven - from North America on a cruise in the Mediterranean Sea. She is the current earthly incarnation of a Higher Energy that I, before earth was created, had a Love affair with in its Sirian form as Anam.

Considering that background story it was perhaps not surprising that Arven and I fell in Love head over heals, and before we really knew what was happening we even had a date set for our wedding. However, after a hectic Love affair the whole thing broke down abruptly four months later. That fatal turn of events made no sense to me as it happened, since I was by then thoroughly aware of our Higher Order connection - that this was not any trivial romance but a divinely orchestrated relationship. So how could she do this?

Answering that question took a lot of exploration in the course of the first two books, and it did not exactly ease the situation that I had Anam showing up in my living room soon after Arven’s bolting. It was just a brief visit to say how sorry she was about the outcome of it all - this was absolutely not what she had wished for, but unfortunately she had had no control over her lower representation.

So my automatic response to Arven’s bolting was that I found a babysitter and booked pretty much the first flight across the Atlantic Ocean I could find to visit her and bring her back to her senses. I got nowhere with that, though, and what I found at my arrival only made my concerns grow, for Arven looked quite in disarray - nowhere near the shiny being I had known a short while ago. I tried to make her see that she had lost her way - her Higher Self had told me that just a few days earlier - but she only said that she was in perfect alignment with her Higher Self in this. My master guide, or gatekeeper, Archangel Raphael commented on that view by showing a green parrot sitting on her shoulder speaking her words - that was what He thought of that Higher Order alignment - not terribly comforting, to say the least.

So I went home again more concerned for Arven than ever, and my concerns only grew over the following months as the Angels told me one story after another about how she had gotten stuck in her dark swamp, and passed me information I should forward to her because They could not get through, as They phrased it.

So I was left with the image of a Love beyond all Lifetimes that had been so profoundly split between her Love and her dark attractions that her Higher and her lower aspects had been torn apart and now headed in opposite directions - and I lit candles for her and prayed for her in each and every church I passed on my way.

The continuation was like that too, for half a year after the break-up I once again had her Higher Self showing up in my living room. This time she requested that I took Arven back unconditionally - with no apologies needed, as she phrased it.

Since I was not the one leaving in the first place, that was the easy part - at least in principle. But then she and Archangel Michael asked me to write the failed Love-story up and send it to Arven. That November she would be going on a pilgrimage to Egypt with Fleur and Grima, the two spiritual teacher who had organised the cruise where we first met, and that trip would temporarily thaw her frozen interior - it would be like thick molten rock for a few months after that, as Michael phrased it, and it was important that we struck at exactly that time. So I did as requested, and it was an exhausting exercise.

The purpose of the exercise was to bring us back together, it was said - so we could be together at all levels of existence, as Anam phrased it - so I expected to have Arven back in my arms soon after submitting my writings to her. That was not exactly what happened - instead I got a very angry reply where she told me to never ever contact her again. Completely baffled I took a look at what I had written up, and I could see some logic to her response.

However, Anam was very pleased with the whole situation - in fact so pleased that a few weeks later she started integrating herself into my body, so I became two souls in one body, so to speak. It was so that we could still accomplish what we wished to accomplish in this lifetime despite the loss of her current incarnation, she said, and the level of absurdity grew further that Easter, as Anam travelled with me on my pilgrimage to France.

The previous year Arven had bolted just ahead of a similar trip that was meant to finally cement our relationship - after that journey there would have been only one way for us: Fast forward. So Arven escaped in the last minute you may say - like the bride running out of the church while the groom waits at the altar.

Now Anam travelled with me to France, and it felt like a second honeymoon for us - so perhaps it was not much of a surprise when we confirmed our vows to each other outside a church in Carcassone where a previous version of Arven and I had once married. So there I was: The husband of Anam that Arven wanted nothing of.

The basic story was told in Pilgrim, but here we get to the connection to this chapter in this book - and it has to do with Divine Timing:

Arven and I met in October. I visited her for a weekend in early November, she visited me the last weekend in November, I visited her over New Year, and she bolted the following February - in week 7.

The following year it was the same week in October I started working on the text I was to send to her. She went to Egypt the last weekend in November - the beginning of her temporary inner thawing - and I completed the package over New Year. In week 7 we joined at a Higher level when Anam integrated herself into me - while Arven petrified again - and then there was the parallel over Easter already mentioned.

So we were seemingly on parallel tracks of energy the two years - and Michael explained it by saying that it was so that we could shift back to the track we were intended to be on from the beginning.

While we did in fact at the Higher Level over that winter complete what had failed at the lower level the winter before, no improvement was obvious at the lower level - in fact, our joining at that level seemed further away than ever.

However, I now find myself on a third run down those parallel energy tracks. This year I went on my third pilgrimage to Egypt in that same fateful week in October - an event where Michael took the opportunity to make me embrace Arven’s return as a matter of fact.

A few weeks earlier Michael had stunned me by saying that Arven and I would be back together within six months - at the most. So that would be no later than March next year. It would be a fascinating experience and all would be well, as He phrased it - and then he served me a scientific conference at Lake Louise in week 7 of next year, five months after the prediction of Arven’s return was served to me. Lake Louise is a beautiful place that Arven has very special relations with - she referred to it as Michael’s etheric retreat on earth, and she took me there on my New Years visit. So it was an easy guess what Michael had in mind with that arrangement…

Chapter 2: 11th November 2008

Another turn of the wheel…

After the return from the pilgrimage to Egypt I had three weeks for writing up the story about what happened there, and then it was off to meet the crystal skull at British Museum that my new friend A-M had brought into my life.

As we sat in the airplane to London, A-M said to me that St. Germaine was with her and that it had to do with me - and then she asked me if I was aware that I work a lot with him. That was perhaps not so surprising, she said, since he had also been one of the founding energies behind the Rosicrucian societies, but what was somewhat odd was that he kept pointing towards me, asking if she had taken a good look on his son.

It sounded as if he wanted her to follow my lead - which she clearly was more than willing to do: After the ordeal with the delivery and the little grey she said that I had saved her life, and that she would die for me if I asked her to. While the former could potentially be true, the latter seemed like a bit of overkill to me - if you will excuse the expression. St. Germaine would come back like that over and again all the way to the flight home: Are you sure you have taken a good look at my son?

More things happened on the flight over, but I will zap to when we had arrived at Heathrow Airport and took the subway towards our hotel in central London. We stood up in a fairly full train. To the right and in front of me two ladies sat. They looked Latin, and my guess was that they were from Spain and that they would be staying in the same hotel as us - three train-rides and almost an hour away from the airport.

One of the ladies had so much class as she sat there in her blue jeans and red coat that it had me completely mesmerised. It was not the Cathedral in Vezelay type of class, the class you can buy with money, but the true class that comes from within. I was not the only one amazed, though, and as the train moved its way into London we constantly found us looking into each other’s eyes - only to look away as soon as we realised what we were doing. It was almost like that famous Lady and the Tramp-scene, except that we had no meatball to push around. What I read in her eyes was a lady who had no man because she had never met a man really worth going for, and now she sat there looking at him.

The situation reminded me of what had happened thirty years earlier - perhaps exactly to the date. It was after my first great Love had kicked me out and I was left a complete mess who would tour the nightlife every weekend, digging up woman after woman, changing bed partner almost as fast as I changed underwear.

Often I would bump into the usual suspects, but one night there was a girl I had never seen before, and as soon as we saw each other lightening struck. We established contact on the spot, wasting no time. The next hours we spent deeply embedded in each others arms. Over that time we exchanged very few words - there was really no need for it, for we constantly moved in concerto as if we were one body, one soul, one mind. For things to be like that out of nothing was a strange experience I had never had before and that I have never had since. We went home to my rented room around midnight and the night was as magical as the evening had been. And I most certainly led the lady as we danced through the evening and the night…

When we got up the next morning she asked me if she would see me again, and I said that I hoped to bump into her again some time soon - I think I will remember that horrible phrase to the end of my days, and probably beyond that. Then she left.

I had truly meant what I said, I really, really hoped to see her again, to be with her over and again - till the end of our days - but I had acted from my nightlife autopilot, and it was only when she had left that it struck me that she was not one of the usual suspects; that I might never see her again if I did not fix a date on the spot.

Desperate to undo my mistake I ran as fast as I could out of my room, down the stairs, and out into the street to try and catch this miracle on two legs before she disappeared, but to my surprise she was nowhere to be seen. To get away that quickly she must have been running too, and I think that what happened was that she understood my words as if I wanted nothing more of her, so hard hit by Love and the disappointment of her Lover only wanting her body for the night, when she had found that special thing, she had started running as soon as she got out of my room to find somewhere private to cry out her pain.

Realizing this, I was about to cry my lungs out to make her spring from the ground, but her name got stuck in my throat as I faced the embarrassment of having people peaking out their windows to see who was yelling like that on the street an early Sunday morning. The next weeks I trawled the nightlife every Friday and Saturday to find this wonderful girl again, but I never did.

Some people wonder how their life might have unfolded had they made different choices this or that time. Changing one thing changes all subsequent events, so I try not to spend continuous effort on such speculation, for who can say if the whole package would get better if you changed this or that?

However, there is one incident in my life I would like to undo if I got the chance to go back and do so, and that is what happened that Sunday morning in the autumn of 1978 - letting this very special girl leave without a date was certainly the most stupid of all the very stupid things I have done in this lifetime (and there is a few to pick from).

A couple of years ago I asked my clairvoyant what had been the point about this incident, and she said that it had been for me to learn that all we say or do has consequences.

As a teenager my dream was to share all of life with one woman only, but my first great Love turned out to be a tough partner. She was the one with the experience, and I was the one madly in Love. She would flirt openly with any man - dance tightly, kiss them deeply and everything - but she insisted that she would always draw the line just in front of the bed. I did not feel very comfortable about her behaviour - if you go that far towards the edge, who knows when you stumble and fall; all that would take is one well timed little nudge, and the flesh is notoriously fragile, as we all know.

Some people may make such claims about how unshakeable they are, but subsequent events usually prove them wrong if they choose to flirt with disaster - besides, if you are that much in balance why would you bother to flirt with disaster in the first place? Where would the drive come from? The demons we deny are the ones with the most power over us, I was only too well aware, but there was nothing I could do to make her change her ways.

That magic night in 1978 I bumped into a girl that was absolutely everything I could possibly have wished for from that first great Love of mine, and had I acted rationally I would have held on to my perfect partner at that time with all my might - rather than just releasing her into the streets.

I had three reasons for screwing things up so terribly, two of which had to do with autopilots. One reason was that when I experienced this magic night I still held on to the dream of my first partner and desperately tried to bring her back, writing her a letter every day - some days two letters - so the place as my partner was still taken in a sense of things. The second reason was that I was into that autopilot function of zapping through surrogates, so that night I did not realise the bloody miracle on hand until it was too late. The third reason was the embarrassing fear of public embarrassment if I shouted my Love out in the streets after releasing her into the outer world.

Thirty years later history almost repeated itself as I stood in that train with another tough lady in my luggage and afraid to make a move on the Angel before me - and I would have to make the move, if anything was to happen, since this lady had no chance of knowing that my travel mate was not my partner. Besides, she was not a woman to chase a man, but a prize one very lucky man could win - that was very apparent.

However, the old High Priest had dreamt his dream, so once again I was locked in another reality and not sufficiently present in the moment when the perfect partner appeared out of the blue. But at least I was aware of the situation this time, so I asked what it was about, and They said that it was so that They knew what I wanted from Arven. Indeed, there were quite some physical similarities between Arven and this Lady in Red, and my response might have answered the question pretty precisely…

All confused by the situation I replied that if something else should come out of this meeting, we would have to meet again at the hotel - and then I lost contact with the Lady in Red as we both changed trains.

That night A-M and I went out for dinner with her son who lives in London, and as we exited the hotel I saw with my peripheral vision the lady from the train sitting on a couch in the lobby - very visible in her red coat. So of all the hotels in London she indeed stayed at the same hotel as us, and I could have risked public humiliation by turning around in the door - I could have gone to her and declared my feelings - or at least I could have said: Hey, I saw you in the train…

 - But I did absolutely nothing. Thirty years had not changed a lot in that respect: It is certainly hard to teach old dogs new tricks…

I did in fact almost stop in my tracks when I noticed the red coat and realised who sat there at the couch, but once again the risk of the public embarrassment got the upper hand, and I just said to the Angels that if this was about more than just defining what I wished from Arven, we would have to meet again with better time before we left London. But we did not meet again.

- And there was more of that confusing stuff, for what A-M and I found in our hotel room was not the standard bed arrangement in a double room, but a queen-size bed we would be sharing - and there was only one blanket! The situation made me a bit sceptical for a second, but apparently that was how it was to be, and it did work out nicely.

One thing that came out of sharing a bed with A-M was the information that for long periods of time I stop breathing in my sleep - and A-M wondered how far I travel out when that happens. None of my previous bed mates have told me such a thing, so it must be new. When I asked about it I was shown the Yogi sitting on a mountain top - nothing can disturb him, the ants can eat his body and he won’t notice, and his breath and heartbeat slow down to almost disappear.

The sleeping arrangement also helped us remember that A-M was one of my ex-wives from before I met my Anam - from a time we lived in a Crystal Universe - and it was easy to find the boundless Love of that universe and the liquid Love we shared back then. It made A-M’s head full of Light, she said, and that phrasing later reminded me of how Arven had said that I had gotten deeper into her than any other man had done, and of how Raphael had likened her bolting to Ikaros’ fall from the sky when he got too close to the sun.

So for a weekend A-M and I were man and wife again, and that experience, combined with the incident in the train, made me realise exactly what I wish to have from Arven - mentally and physically. Crystal and I had talked about the impossibility of describing our perfect partner in words - sometimes words are just not enough - but here I held the image in the energy and everything felt complete - and I remembered my outburst after the return from Egypt last autumn, where I said that I really wanted no other partner than Anam, but if They could please send me a more useful incarnation of her (?)

So now They had asked for the specifications of more useful…

This story reminds me of what Neale Donald Walsch says about reality - that all possible outcomes of our lives are always out there, and that we can choose to live the same life over and over again to try out any interesting outcome. I bookmarked the incident with the Lady in Red, and said that if it is like that, then this is an alternative I would like to try out one day.

But perhaps I have already tried it? Perhaps that is why I know that the experience would be so unbelievably perfect and beautiful? Perhaps it also was that kind of unconscious knowledge of what I just lost that hit me so hard thirty years ago?

In school I was not a favourite among the girls, to say the least. I was a bit of a nerd, my cloths were hardly fashionably - probably not even nice - and we did not wash that regularly in my home. In fact, throughout all my school years only one girl fancied me - I think we were about ten or twelve when it happened - and on her initiative we actually dated.

It was only for a week, though, for on the outside she was even less attractive than me, and soon an embarrassing embarrassment drove me to end the romance. Later she has grown into a very beautiful lady, and on the morning after I saw her again at a school reunion the Angels reminded me of what had happened all those years ago, and I was shown what a perfect life we could have had together if I had been able to embrace her Love. But where did that video come from? Perhaps it was the memory of a life we had already lived, and a memory that could help me deal with certain things in this version of my life - who knows?

Perhaps this present version of my current life is the one where I have tried all the other options and now only miss the last one - the joining with the one I am to leave earth reality with according to the Divine blueprint?

But Love takes many shapes and forms, and the crystal skull played into that as well…

When we got to the museum, A-M went straight for the skull and spent a lot of time with it, but as she sat down in front of it I was told by the Angels to first go through the other exhibitions and bring the world to the skull. So I went off to the exhibitions about the Americas and Africa before I returned to the skull, and later we would both go through Egypt, the Middle East, Persia and pre-Christian Europe.

Once I was with the skull, quite a lot of energy was transmitted, both between the skull and me, and between the skull and my Merire crystal, but the only part that was put into words came when A-M went to the ladies room. While I waited for her return the skull talked about Love and about how technology should always be developed and employed from Love - that was what had gone wrong in Atlantis: We had started to develop technology just because it could be done - and I saw the chimaeras and other mistakes we had made.

A-M went to the ladies room because I was to drag her out into the streets of London to get something done about my shortage of pants. I had tried to do it at home, but it had not worked, and They had said that I would find something in London. So we took a break from the museum.

A-M’s son had told us to go to Oxford Street - it was nearby and where he would shop clothes for himself. Out on the street we were not sure about the direction to Oxford Street, so we asked a young girl we met on our way. She was not sure either, but she thought we should turn right at the next traffic light. So we did that - though only after some hesitation - as I felt a strong pull to my left when we approached the traffic light - but in the end I decided to rely on the local advice rather than my paranormal sensing, so we turned right on Tottenham Court Road and walked and walked up that street until we got to where it was very obvious that this had to be wrong. Then we turned around and walked back.

On our way back we asked another Londoner, and he told us to just continue down the road until we got to a big glass house, and then we would be there. You can’t miss it, he said.

He was quite right, and the big glass house was just to the left of where we had made our right turn down Tottenham Court Road, so it would have been wise to follow the pull to the left…

I got my pants bought and we returned to the museum. On our way back it was explained to me that this incident had been like the one where I had refused to leave work early - to remind me to follow my inner guidance. I knew the reference, for earlier in the day I just followed A-M towards the skull though I had felt a pull to my left on our walk through the museum. As we got back to the museum I looked to see where I would have been going, had I followed the pull, and I saw that it would have led me to do the journey through the world I should do before going for the skull.

With that fresh reminder I followed the next pull I sensed, which took us through an Egyptian exhibition we had missed earlier in the day. We were to walk through it on the left side going in, and then turn around and go through it on the left side going out. So we did that - walked in this U-shape.

When I visited the small Aten temple I found a piece of granite on the ground in what used to be the Sanctum Sanctorum, and I knew it was a piece of the altar that once stood there. When I packed for this trip to London that piece of granite almost jumped into my luggage, and as we walked through the Egyptian collection the first time it became very heavy.

At the end of the Egyptian collection we entered a large Assyrian collection. The entrance was guarded by two winged lions that formed a strange energy structure - some sort of a portal. As we walked through the collection we noticed images of a number of winged beings - some with an eagle’s head. There was something strange and important about these items - a definite outer space connection that reminded me of what Michael had said about the images of the ancient Egyptian gods: They were holograms created by the Sirians.

The energy in the room was certainly very strange, and it got only stranger when we exited the exhibition through another passage between a set of winged lions, for as we stood there it felt as if this spot was the same spot as the spot between the first set of lions. The two sets of lions were energetically connected, and it was as if there really was just one set of lions projected into two locations. However, this second set of lions formed the right way in, so we walked