when rocks, trees and animals speak

în această piatră e un sâmbure de IubireWhen spending enough time in your inner space, the perceptions amplify and you can enter into some kind of a resonance with whatever surrounds you.  The roads you take become inner explorations, offering information, the pause moments allow you to digest whatever you received, and the nights turn into fantastic adventures revealing the unknown.  

Shamans all over the world speak about Signs and their importance: they say sometimes one can see minute but important things, showing up in the corner of one’s eye, or at the edge of consciousness, like spontaneous knowing states. d

A few steps away from the bed and breakfast there is an ancient carved rock complex called  Aluniş. In the first day, we wanted to come here, on top of the caves of monks and the stone carved church, on the ancient ceremonial platform, broken by the slow movement of tectonic plates and the eathquakes that also shattered the Agatons. Now this platform is tilted. The place, called God’s Throne, or Zalmoxis ‘  Throne, is like a small stone seat located in teh middle of what once was a great horizontal slate. Diana says there were sacrifices, we can feel offerings, milk and honey pouring on the old warm stone, not blood.  Ceremonies were held here since the beginning of time. Access is dificult, either you try to climb the rocks on the side with the cells, or the steep slope in the forest that follows the line of the former monumental steps that now lie buried under meters of dirt, only the top stones of the separation walls barely visible today.

cu spiritele Pământului, la sfatWe climb, dressed in white, with all needed supplies in our backpacks, for the final contact  with the translucent surreality of these lands laden with knowledge like a transparent glass hard disk that one must first find to be able to then read it. Two dogs from the bed and breakfast are accompanying us like silent watchers sent by Mother Earth, and we are surrounded by huge ants: the sign of self sacrifice for the collective benefit, giving up the ego and effort that does not expect any reward.

Among serene trees grown on what used to be a grand ceremony platform, we are welcomed by a thunder out of the blue sky. The Voice of the Old Ones is already familiar: we heard it at the Carpathian Sphynx, in the Valley of Cozana, yesterday, at the Agatons. Since hearing the name of Agaton given to the two monumental constructions, former pillars of the Golden Fortress, today monk cells visited and enlightened by the lightworker monks around, I had the feeling that this is not just a name, it should have a meaning, because Greek was the cult language for centuries and this would have been the only way to carry further the hidden meaning.
aici totul vorbeşte despre unirea polilor opuşiAnd here we are: Agathon, To (Greek) means overall good, as a principle, highest good, in the moral sense, summum bonum; Platon uses this name for an aspect of Divine also called the unmanifest, or the Original Word  (Logos). The best Sanskrit equivalent is Paramatman. The Pole of Goodness, expressed in a binary formula – the male and the female principle. God’s Finger on the heart of the believers out here. How much sense this makes.

So that we hail the Great White Light from the Throne of God, and then thanks the Four Directions for four days of wonders, before descending with great effort and sacrifice (one unstable rock slipped downhill and hit one of us – there was blood and bruising and ice packing and antiinflamatory ointment). The general sensation we have is one of being afloat, and all human aspects seem so small and insignificant when compared to the overwhelming wisdom of these super-human places, that a part of us wishes we stayed here forever. obstacolul se transformă în păzitorI understand the aspiration of the soul that accompanied us along these days. We nicknamed him Frodo, because that man, dressed in turquoise, and walking barefoot, remininded us of the hobbits walking in the Lord of the Rings. Frodo got from us food, love, understanding and as much guidance as we could offer, and Father Isidor enveloped him in the warmth of his advice about seeking a Master if he wants to try being a hermit as a personal perfection way, explaining that this path might be dangerous if not properly guided by someone who knows the mysteries and traps of solitude.  

The Watcher and the TeacherIt seems, too, that these lands sanctioned any unauthorized attempt or intrusion that lacked the proper knowledge. There are stories about locals disappearing from next to the Drilled Stone, with their ox-driven cart, reappearing without the animals and the vehicle next to Targoviste, a few hundred miles away, and having to beg for money to return home. They had come to these mountains looking for treasures…

A treasure is buried deep, close to the cross we saw yesterday. The hiding place had a sort of air pipe that locals had known for a long time. This place punished the one who tried to go down this air passage to steal the gold of the high officer: it has been said that once lowered into the pit, hanging by the dog’s chain (it seems they had to drag their dog by the chain, the animal did not want to come to that place), the man started screaming in terror: The Dragon! The Dragon!. Once pulled up to the surface, his face pale with fear, he could not speak a word more, and two days later he perished mysteriously. So the locals decided to leave Nature to its course, and the trees and bushes covered the secret passage forever.

simbolul saltului înainteOffering to the paths of Knowledge your effort, may it be a bit of time or some sweat to pass, physically, the mountain ridge, climbing to one rock to the next one to get to the Valley of Wonders, you receive signs.

The days we spent in the heart of Buzău Mountains came with such signs, and the ones I received were

The Hawk: power of vision. that view that comprises everything, the grand Knowing, and understanding beyond the human limitation. The Dibearer of the Sunvine Messenger.

The Stag Beetle: this weird insect’s message comes from the Egyptian tradition, where it represented God Kephra, the MidNight. It is the one carrying the Sun between its horns passing it through the winter, and the meanings are connected on one hand to death and rebirth and on the other hand to transcended Love.

The GrassHopper: trust in the Greater Plan, encouraging you to take the leap of faith, knowing you would be supported, to continue your way, because a new stage in your life is beginning. The grasshopper never leaps back, but always forward.

sacred midsummer fireThe butterfly, so known for its symbolism of inner transformation, substantially turning the potential into manifestation.

There is a lot to meditate on what stones, animale, plants and insects told us. One thing is clear: in order to hear their message, you have to be here, now, searching and touching everything, feeling, invisibly, the signs and signals coming in such places of power. This takes you out of the bad habit of dwelling in thoughts about past and fear for future. This only is enough of a reason to try the difficult and treacherous path to the mysteries safekept by generations of high priests, hermits, monks and lightworkers that kept the message alive, until the day humankind could get out of its decay to re-learn and re-acquire the ways of perfection and beauty.

The Descent of the Holy Ghost

intrare în tunelul subpământean

The third day in the Land of Luana might be called super-human, in all aspects. Tracks, people, places and events – all in a puzzling mix of coincidences and experiences that surpass by far the laws of statistics.

The sunrise comes after an almost sleepless night, in which each episode of sleep is interrupted by waves of energy waking me up in a cycle of 30 minutes. I do not know if I slept one hour in total. The first solid impression of todaya, a vision, shows me a grand stone ring, a passage like a deformed Stargate, it is gold with a pink aura and I get the information that this is the pass to the Golden Fortress – the place where we should stop to get the Gifts. I also get someting about a certain Filimon, and decide to ask the more knowledgeable ones about this. Who is this mysterious guardian of the Golden Fortress.

aliatul nostru ne arată o altă piatră inscripţionatăDiana arrives around 10.00, exasperated that the second group she was supposed to bring today was late, and, on top of that, one of its members is in no hurry and stopped for a coffee in our bed and breakfast restaurant… Eventually, we all gather and start again on the way through the hayfields, only this time, instead of turning right, as we did yesterday, we are following the deep imprints of the tractor tyres, shaped in the clay that gets soft each time the storm brings heavy rain. Up, up, higher, in a terrible, exhausting climb, with no horizontal sections, until we reach the ridge. I do not know which was more difficult: the sprint on the steep edge of the giant bucket, yesterday, or today’s climbing marathon..

The first stop is what is called the Drilled Stone. Drilled, because it is not just a natural hole, but one created bz the intention, hand and skill of the humans.there is a cell carved in the massive rock of the precipitous mountain wall, with an altar that points to the North  (!) and full, in addition to the signatures of all fools that reach even this distant spot, of Malta crosses, angelic signs and all kinds of writing, one older than the other. The place looks quite normal, but most of the photos reveal an unseen green aura, a light that oozes out of the carved stone walls. A few yards higher, a triangular corridor seems to lead to the Core of the Earth. Whitish milky shapes populate the rigorous space, descending to unknown interior realms. Some steps away, the bed and breakfast dog who accompanied us is pointing to a cross, marked with a solar symbol and another pair of symbols to ts right and left. The place is full of triangles, visible either with the physical eye or the inner one, and signs of Union of Polarities.

Piatra ÎngăurităFifty yards lower, a saving well refills our water bottles with clear though weird smelling cold water. Swallowing a sweet biscuit to re-energize, we start again towards the Agatons. On the steep, rocky track, full of dead slippery leaves, we meet yet another guardian of this place – a weird rock bearing the foot tracks of animals, men and non humans (the foot track of a four-toed sole is quite visible), like they were imprinted when the rock was soft like a paste, and then hardened by some kind of a miracle.

The inner voice whispers “Storing Disk” and I touch with my hand this grand memory marked by paws, hands and feet, claws and toes, so that in the next second my hearing gets invaded by thousands of whispers, transforming into a solid buzz, like the one of the high power lines, and the awareness of a large quantity of information hidden in this strange external memory hard disk.

altar nordicWe walk a bit more and stop to rest in a meadow, chanting the  Guru Mantra – the invocation of Supreme Teacher, not knowing what hidden lines this incantation is igniting through the transparent air of the June noon.

The track climbs again, over slopes full of painfully cut trees, to the top: the path rides this beautiful ridge, up and down, we are sinking in a green sea of smooth, wavy tall grass, blown by the specific ridge winbd. The Mountains of Buzău are not tall.. but they are not a child’s game, either. Once on the top, clouds begin to gather, thunders start and Diana is herding us, pushing to get to the forest until the rain starts, but we stubbornly ask, in Love, the couds to part and spare the cold shower. Miracle: after only a few random drops, the clouds part ont eh two sides of the ridge. We were about to find, some six hours later, that it rained only on the middle of the slopes, and the storm went around the ridge without touching it :D.

crucile sunt maltezeA gruesome, very steep descent without support points and on that slippery, leaf-covered soil, brings us, in about half an hour of torment to a place that makes me yell: this is the one, this is the place! It is the stone ring, a little more gray than the one in the vision, a little more irregular, but as soon as we pass through it we find the Space. Out of the huge megalithic stone, a little church and some cells were carved, many centuries ago., I find a kind of a shelf carved in the stone wall, marked with a pyramid ending into a cube and continued with another upside down pyramid on top of it. The place draws me like a secret connection, and Diana tells me laughing: you are sitting in the reserved place of the grand priests.

Two monkss show up like they materialized from the ground. One of them is dressed in black, he reprimands us and disciplines the group. The other is dressed in… blue, an unusual color for an Orthodox Christian monk, wears grandpa glasses and a Christ smile. He accompanies us further, because Diana asks me to see “the other place” as well before deciding to sit and meditate. So we proceed, together with Father Isisdore, to the Old Agaton.

She was right. Because these two Agatons are the pillars of a gigantinc gate once opening to grant access to the Golden Fortress. Three quarters buried today, but one can still see the megalithiv walls and constructions. So we sit down, getting ready to receive th Gifts we came for, on such a long and unforgiving track. nu îl văd “şi pe celălalt”. piatra cu urme de animale

We sit down, gasping for air, feet feeling heavy like boulders.  Lining up in a circle, on the rocky plateau beneath the old walls, we are a bit shy and do not want to offend the monk’s belief by chanting  foreign mantras or decreeing, and I spend a minute thinking about what to do. The monk-priest’s soul reacts and he asks me what I was thinking of. I automatically reply: “Christ Consciousness”, and he explains  that meditation should be supported not by long prayers, but by very short ones… meaning, in our language, mantras.  He offers one that sounds like this:

intrarea din vis: Agatonul micLord Jesus Christ, bring mercy upon us and all Your World. 

Things are becoming more and more interesting, the Brother is studying the Tibetan bells and incense sticks, plays with them and asks where they come from. He gets as a gift what is left from the Green Tara box of incense, then watches us from a distance while we meditate and comes back when we finish, to tell us he liked it a lot. I present a little offering on behalf of the group and he receives it, modestly saying he is not yet ready to become a teacher. He looks deep into my soul with his clear blue eyes: “There are no coincidences. I was supposed to come here yesterday, not today”. So I got to understand that he felt us and was curious to see and evaluate (the first thing he did in the original meeting place was to slowly scan each of us). I tell him I know he saw us and he replies: ” I am a blind man walking the Path…” but I still know he heard us  :) .

aici stăteau grinzi mariHe was supposed to descend to the cell of Dionisie the Spinner to spend the night. He slept there last night as well. This blue monk , strange and profound, carries with him a minuscule backpack, a foam thin mattress and a sleeping bag. He tells us how he was visited by a bat the previous night. His body smells clean and the words keep none of the compicated, cryptic and archaic language of the typical orthodox priests.

He speaks about being clean channels to receive the Holy Ghost and I am astonished at the similarity of these words with the messages I teach in the Reiki classes. It is like he is hearing and connecting to my thoughts.

The dense, golden energy of this place makes us dizzy, and so does the set of gifts received in meditation, the aparition of this teacher sent by the mantra chants in the meadow, and I look at the AGatons, huge gates of a place once inhabited by high Light Servers only, from times before time until today, when these humble Orthodox monks attend them to keep the spirit alive. The mind’s eye sees, on the left and right sides of the enormous entry gates, two golden tall silhouettes, made of rays, resembling to the ones in the Lord of the Rings, Watchers of the frontier between realms.

la agatonul vechiUnder the grand gate, as the Keeper tells us, there is a huge sculpture of head of a tarabostes (a high rank Dacian). I know it is the face of the Great Blue Light Steward, guarding from timelesness the magical domain of the fortress where many have spent futile months looking for gold.

On the slope of the mountain we start a treacherous track, because the path has been softened by rain and each step is a potential slide into the gap. After passing this final barrier, we run into another obstacle: a long portion barred by cut pines, huge trees brought down while still green, like someone wanted to replicate the spiky fence protecting the Sleeping Beauty. Passing tree by tree, scratched, bruised and determined, we get to the top called  Ţurţudui. The highest peak, speaking about direct contact with God.  Diana has yet another story about a platform where space and time melted, people and animals vanishing from that area, to be found hundreds of miles away.

In the eighties, the Communists ordered the destruction of this place…. and the top was blown up with dynamit. Then the grand pines were cut to make almost impossible any ascent to this Romanian Athos, where a vertical column of light is beaming and where space and time buzz and tremble like they are about to lose their structure. la Athosul din Munţii BuzăThe top of the mountain is like a huge communication antenna, made of light, powered by unknown technology, hidden under the layer of white stones and dead pine trees. And we sit in this light column, looking outside or inside. Father Isidore and Diana confirm our feeling of light and the realisation of the incredible magic of the place, telling us here anyone is closer to God, and I can feel the wide band connection with the One That Is, that illusive and distant goal of hundreds of generations, at the other end of the column of light.

profilurile Porţii Cetăţii de AurThe road goes on the side of the mountain to the Cross of the Spatharios (find out more about this category of imperial bodyguards at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spatharios). Another place imbibed with old energies and ancient symbols, from Vedic to angelic ones. Hungry mosquitos devour us while we listen to other stories about treasures, told by Diana, before we start to descedn quickly back to the valley, since  it is late and we must reach home before the nightfall.

On our way, another stop for another ancient stone carved complex, but the legs are tired and do not want another steep descent, they only want to step on the mild path, avoiding the ups and downs, until the ridge track is over and we can plunge down back into the world.

crucea spătaruluiLarge heavy golden crowns seem to sit on the tops of our heads, and the body is one second here, another second there, as the feet automatically process the way down. We float in a dreamlike state, in a trance, back, lower and lower. The new software is working in the body, reprogramming us. Human respurses would be insufficient for the  18 km of mountain tracks made by untrained people in 11 hours of trekking.

In the Upper World, the laws are different, the sky is weird, the stones radiate and whisper, the mountains have a large bandwidth connection with God, and spiritual teachers materialize out of thin air when sought for. It has been a super-human day, from all points of view. Living between the 3D and the superior reality, we get ready for the supermoon night, that will pass us into the Sacred Trinity day of the Orthodox Solstice celebrations.  The soft, mellow magic of the Sanziene, which translate as Sacred Goddesses, female Masters of Midsummer, brings joy, love and fertility and it is to be celebrated with a grand fire, and a wheel of song, accompanied by the invocation for increasing and growing everything that is good in our lives, as we bring to the Romanian lands the ancestors’ songs from North American prairies and the sound of the shamanic instruments from the sister continent in the South. The bed and breakfast owner is watching us, carefully, from a distance, drawn into the same magic.

The Great Blue Steward

Aluniş, chiliile săpate în piatră

A day in the Land of Luana looks a bit like watching Tarkovsky’s Stalker. You never know what is going to happen, and nothing is what it seems to be.

We get together with Diana, the mysterious fairy of these places. She comes like floating, to assemble the rather large group bound to leave for the adventure. We are gathering in the area of the hermit cells carved in stone, here, in Aluniş. The gang is extremely mixed and loud, so our Iris starts one of her aerial songs. The mood chills instantly and we can listen, quietly, Diana’s story about the successive strata of civilization in these places. The symbols are quite ancient. Two lions are sculpted in the throne on the ceremonial platform above the church. Elements tracing back to Cybele, or Ishtar. On the right and left sides of the church, the unity is created from polarity by two stones, pillar-like, really old and now buried in the ground – the Inner Sun and Inner Moon- as the paleoglyphs tell us.

We start on the country mud road, going up, up, up among hayfields, floating through insects and wild flowers until we reach the edge of the forest. Each of these secret places hide in huge stone buckets, and climbing over the ridge of the bucket is difficult. It  requires maximum will but it is reward with glimpses of weird shaped rocks, guarding the main passing points on the path.  Gasping for air, we get to the sharp edge of the bucket, and then the road overturns and, passing the stone ridge, we descend into another world,  in another scoop of Mother Earth. After passing the trees and getting back to grassy area, the vegetation changes suddenly, and huge silver willows spurt from the ground.  We have entered the Zone. The mountain ridge is populated by a disciplined line of huge vertical sandstone pillars with a rectangular shape, planted one next to the other like dinosaur scales, and creates an enclosed space. This is where the Citadel with its own sun might have been. This is where the knowledge flowed to the earthlings. The space is marked by a gigantic pyramid shape structure in the center of the fortress wall. On top of this structure lies a large rock – a weird shape boulder that lookes like a wild hog head, in a fragile balance. Two hours later, we notice that the boulder has changed its position.  In 2008, a team of researchers took a video recording of one day and one night…  and saw that it really rotates following the Sun.

piramida cu piatra rotitoare

At the heart of the enormous enclosure, a huge Belly Button of the Earth, built of monumental rocks, hides, right at its top, after a difficult climb and an apotheotic final on fragile ladders, the cell of Dionisie the Spinner, a monk who spun wool… and not only wool. He was a light spinner too. The vortex created by the blended three cord light going up from this point is felt like an ascending vortex by many of the travelers, and some literally feel like someone is pulling the top of their head up. We provide emergency assistance to one of the victimes of superhuman effort of getting here, we sit in the rotation of the huge spiraled ligh weaving and then we go back down, into the womb. The group is getting more and more disfunctional so we take out from the backpacks the Tibetan bells to clean the space. The clear sky thunders telling us to mind our behavior stop for a while.

On the other rim of the bucket there is another pyramid shaped structure, guarded by the only fir tree in this area: the monumental tree is 400 years old and looks over the small church carved in the side of the pyramid and bearing the sacred blessing of St. John.

On the last hundred yards to the pyramid side, that has been smoothed by rain (or a nuclear blast) the path becomes to steep and difficult that it is impossible for the body to make it to the church: it is the mind that drives us through the torrent of rain and hail. The giant washing machine of this magic valley cleanses the thoughts of the ones that, stirred by the energy of the place, started to pour their personal impurity and negativity.

poveşti scrise în piatră

Waiting for the flood to end, some of us hide in the minuscule church, as I stand outside, with my hand welded to the stone structure of the pyramid, the water pouring down on it like I have petrified too and I have become a part of the crystalline stone structure. The much slower descent on the steep slope, due to the turning of the path into slippery mud, brings us down. We are not hungry, we cannot eat – it seems the energy of the place is so high that hunger disappears. A part of the group goes to the Cave at the end of the valley, in the nest of the Omega-shape pocket. The shape has an incredible resemblance to the femail sex organ and it is guarded by a huge phallic structure. It hosts the Live Water source – the legend says that the one with knowledge may heal when drinking for 33 days, and the untrained one may get poisoned.  n

la lucruWe set a power circle in one of the 10 illumination disks  (each of those is about 45 meters wide and they surround the central structure in the valley).

Around us, unseen, gather all the Guardians of this place. The Old Ones descend here, and so do angels and masters and all others, so that, under the guidance of the Great Blue Light Steward, we point our souls toward the great gate to the other side and we chant, meditate, tone as everything enters harmony, and the Good from beyond pours in a luminous stream to quench the thirst of the power place hosting us.

o Roată a timpului, stâlp de poartă la DionisieThe way back is difficult, too, because we need to climb back to the ridge of the bucket holding the entire collection of wonders, fed by the unpredictable and unexpected energy of the place. This way, everyone miraculously makes it, safe and sound, to the base camp. On the way back messages are waiting. Weird wild tulips and a huge stag beetle.  We spoke to Diana and tomorrow we will leave for another inspired trip. We do not know what and how it will be, but I trust her silent communication with these places and I expect more wonders.

Now, in the morning, in the shiny sun light, entering the breakfast hall to ask for a hot cup of tea, I am greeted by a huge grasshopper, a hidden message about trusting the unknown and making the leap forward. Later, quickly taking down the travel notes, a thin insect wing lands on my white pants that replace the ones totally compromised in yesterday’s rain and mud.  The wing carries inspiration and opens the air travel.

Out of the Light, blessings.

For more images from this land of miracles, click on https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10200144924727807.1073741841.1291603111&type=1&l=358320d821

Trip to the Land of Luana

Aluniş, chiliile săpate în piatră

This magic place is situated in Romania, at the turn of the Carpathian Mountains. After passing the city of Buzău one enters places where hills grow tall and the road goes up and down, winding and twisting in sharp curves, on steep slopes. Entering the Myth. Overcoming the broken asphalt and the country roads, the daring ones can reach a realm that is isolated from the rest of the world by a giant invisible curtain. Beyond this lies hidden like a treasure held by our Planet’s hands: a seed of Light.

In the village of Aluniş, a building that resembles rather a mountain chalet than a museum hosts large amber pieces in all colors. The huge storage of honey-like drops crystallized through 60 million years, a story sleeps in each translucent gold, green, red or black drop. Large pieces radiate like silent lighthouses. Smaller ones seem ready to wrap around a woman’s hand or hang near a child’s heart.  The place vibrates with an energy that wipes like a sponge any trace of hunger or fatigue. The lady attending the collections is looking at us, with her clear, child-like blue eyes, and tells us the stories, connecting the dots, about how Jason’s Argonauts searched for the golden wool. This is actually the lamb’s fur, lit by the golden shine of the amber stones. The place is called Colţi (fangs) due to the weird shapes of the rocks aligned on the tops of mountains like old dinosaur scales. The ridges look like fortresses and hide long forgotten secrets. The name Colţi itself, transliterated into Greek, becomes Colchi, and from here to Colchida and the legend of the quest for the mystical treasure there is only one more step. The custodian tells us to look for Diana, the Guide for these places, who can show us what needs to be seen.

Diana was not there when we reached the museum, but by the time we finished wandering among the crystallized pieces of energy living in the large, transparent amber pieces, she showed up, called by the same unseen voice that beckoned us imperatively to get here.

Small and slender like a high scool girl, with smiling eyes and pigtails, the Keeper of this place looks at us with a sense of recollection and, although she had a group scheduled for the day trip, she accespts to lead us to the Power Places. She tells us the legend: it is said that, long ago, Luana, a non-earthling, broke the ban on coming to Earth – a cursed planet – and came here to teach the inhabitants how to bring back the Light and cure themselves and the lands that needed so much to get out of the sticky darkness of the Lower Realm.  Coming here, she selected a place and built a citadel surrounded by guarding huge blades of rock, in the spot she selected for power and defence, and started to share knowledge with the locals. The carved stones one can see everywhere bear witness, through the unknown paleoglyphs in an unknown alphabet, of the messages about the times before the Third Sun.

Trasee-Tara_Luanei-GoogleEarthAbout Luana’s citadel, it has been said that it had its own Sun… and the light frequency signatures become visible for anyone who comes here with an open heart and a quiet mind.  Huge sacred geometry shapes vibrate in the air, the silver-blue light flows everywhere, and in the evening the forest is swarming with all kinds of beings: Keepers, the Old Ones, the Grand Luminous Ones, and small sparklies of all sort, angels and leprechauns. Blessings flow to all the newcomers asking in humbleness for permission and teaching.

The words change in our thoughts and our speech, and the normal language is replaced by old words, archaic terms that we thought we had forgotten. It is like other voices speak through us. Across from the unfit huge, modern building compared to the ancient, spell-like wave of the place there is a first radiation spot: a small church carved in the mountain rock and surrounded by similarly caved cells. Inside, the Music of the Spheres is audible. For the quiet listener, it starts like a heavy fundamental hurl out of which finer, luminous vibration start to emerge: bell sounds, flute tones, and harp vibrations, like thin light fingers are running across the energy cords of the Earth.

Everywhere, from the signs carved on the rock walls to the images in the inner eye, the Maltese Cross shows up like a guardian of the lamp shelves, the icon stands, blessing the food baking stoves and the serene ceilings, softly curved, reminding us of the white dwelling places in the Cyclades. You can feel the steps and the touch of hundreds of hands of hermits and priests who attended this Garden of Life for as long as it needed that, until the earthlings will have risen to the point of desiring its fruit.

Skies are different here: they catch fire, and the places are guarded by sentries taking the shape of animals. Sounds change like they are amplified and taken over by a huge synthesizer, that changes their properties and attune them so that they can resonate with the Greater Music of this bridge between the Inner Earth and the Above REalm.

We are getting ready to pass through the Gates, and the night seems like a prolonged training session, leaving no signs of fatigue though, so that we may be shown whatever each one of us can see and we may be gifted with whatever each of us can receive. We are getting ready with our own light and the pink-rose light, so we can bring from the other side everything we can bring and, expecting nothing, we sit down on the logs next to the place we wpent the night, to look down on the road, for the arrival of the Guide.

From the Land of Luana, Bleassings  to all.

Relationship Karma

Enough is enough. All people I meet tell me the same thing. They are captive in a pattern. It might be the “wrong partner” pattern, or the loneliness pattern, or the one-way love pattern. .

No matter what the pattern is, there is a reason.

It is based on the theory of reincarnation, so if you do not believe in it, just click  on the right side of this tab and close the blog now.

But if you do think that the soul can transmigrate from a realm to another one, from a body to another body,  over space and time, then you might find a satisfactory explanation for the unsatisfactory aspects of your private life .

The first point we need to take into account is that we all are exploring a relationship facet in each lifetime. Most often, the people you interact with were your parents, children, masters, protectors in previous lives. The woman you fell for might have been your son last time. 😀

This changes  profoundly the way we see this relationship, doesn’t it?

We came with a love capital we had forgotten, entered this life marching with our military boots over the hearts of the ones  we kept meeting, then we end up wondering why we are not loved. Most often, the relationship we enter is a perfect mirror of what we offered in previous encounters.

Did we abandon them last time? We might expect to be abandoned. Did we betray them? Expect betrayal.

Another important point is that these episodes tend to occur in cycles. Men choosing the same type of woman, just another face, in successive relationships. Women, captive in a repetitive male model – usually not the ideal one. Here we need to understand that each of these people coming to our lives is a lesson, an opportunity to improve ourselves. If we do not get the lesson and we do not act upon it, we receive it once again. And again. And again.  Until we pass the exam.

How can one understand a lesson? It is simple. Look, objectively, at what happened. Objectively is not “it’s the other’s fault” or “I did nothing wrong”. To be objective is to look at the nature of the issue,. What part of your behavior facilitates the manifestation of the issue. Then, roll up your sleeves and start working on that behavior. Take the file, nicely smooth all bumps and fill all holes with love – to make it short, you grow. I can offer many examples of people working with me to go through this process. Typically, one year later they come and say “my life has changed”. So there is room for hope 😀

Conventionally speaking, we must be lucid when falling in love or entering a social relationship with someone. Before letting your self dive into it, just ask yourself: is this someone who appreciates me? Who makes me feel special, different, wonderful? Who makes me feel at ease? Is it a person I can learn from? If the answer is yes, take a seat in the desk and get your lessons. If not, stop complaining about repeating patterns.

Remember: these people are our mirrors… that is why the most important lesson is:

Remember to emit, 24/7, those feelings, sensations and thoughts we want to feel from  the ones around us.

The high “frequency” of emotions and mind will sift automatically your professional, social and intimate partners that are not suitable to our own harmony. This is the most important lesson. We are what we think.

the next best thing

Today’s thought is related to standards and aspirations. The idea started from a woman that cannot leave her cheating and swearing husband, for the simple reason that her parents planted deep into her mind the idea of conformity. If one accepts the failure of a marriage, it means he or she has failed socially. People like those spend their time patching and fixing what is unfixable and full of holes. Then they go out and tell eveyone how well the other reacted. Afterwards, things go back to “normal”: verbal violence and sleeping around.

Someone else desperately search for a pair, no matter who that person is, just to get in line with the rest of the social mass. A friend suggested that you don’t have to buy the whole pig for a piece of steak :), you don’t need people’s generic approval.  Just to have a name wrapped around your finger, preparing yourself for a lifetime of compromise.

Mirror image: a man falls in love, madly with a woman that comes from a completely different background. She has the first child, then routine comes into play and sex is not interesting anymore,  no one cares what the other wants… he finds a lover that can offer everything the fed up wife can’t. 

And then… it is Monday morning, it is cold, he runs  trough the busy square of the business part of the city. He is in his twenties, graduated a good college, works in a company that pays him well, but not well enough for the 12 hours spxcess hormones by giving him stupid and repetitive tasks, just to see him more often.  Colleagues perceive him as a danger, he wears the  high potential tag. The good suit gets wet. It is the only one, the other one is at the dry cleaners’… there is only enough money for a beigel. Maybe two.

What are we doing here, folks??? Why do we choose good enough instead of good? Where did this go wrong?

The answer is about havind the power of daydreaming, of having a vision that can draw the line of our life. Get past the immediate targets, which are typically related to the lukewarm compromise of today. Break the barrier instead of walking along it.

Get out of that place of comfort, dare, understand, feel the taste  of the next best thing, infinitely better than you can imagine, prepared and standing by, in the Universe, for the moment you are ready to receive it. Disney said: “if you can dream it, you can do it”.  Stop asking for permission. stă în binişor va rămâne acolo, fără să poată îndrăzni, înţelege şi savura următorul lucru, mult mai bun, pe care Universul ţi-l pregăteşte atunci când eşti gata să îl primeşti: nimic nu e imposibil, spunea Disney, dacă poţi să visezi la ceva, poţi să şi realizezi acel ceva. Nu mai cereţi permisiune….  Stop asking a higher instance to intervene. As long as we swim in the muddy puddle of good enough, we will not get what we really deserve: our perfect reflection, materialized in the perfect partner, true friends, best job or employer, creation, fulfillment.

Take your daily quota of daydreaming, compare it with what you are getting and decide where is the point of saying no to compromise. This is the first step in freeing yourself from good enough. Storms may follow, but you might end up in bright sun on your favorite beach… only if you try.