Revelations of the Ruby Crystal

by Barbara Hand Clow

  Indicating layers with her hands, she went on, “Demons inhabit the second dimension in semi-physical forms that express Earth’s power. Demonic thoughts and feelings inhabit the fourth dimension, the source of sexual/power complexes that manipulate humans using symbols and rituals. We are designed to freely inhabit the third dimension, yet power mongers have learned how to entrap us in the fourth dimension. They also tap Earth’s power at sacred sites like the Vatican to trap us in the second dimension. People who seem to be asleep throughout their whole lives are trapped in the second dimension. This energy manipulation is the basis of patriarchal power. You, Armando, lived in a wonderful family and were located solidly in the third dimension in a beautiful life. Then the priest wrenched you out of it by using sexual energy to throw you into the dark. When you expressed yourself sexually upon maturation, you trapped more people.

  Disgust transformed Claudia’s features. “Hot desire feeds the Church with power and sticky luxury. The Church uses hypnotic, lurid pomp and splendor to keep people’s minds in the dark zone instead of freely living in the solid world, in a balance of light and dark. Your knowledge of this archetypal zone is what makes you a great painter, Armando, but you couldn’t control these forces in yourself until now. Also, you are very reptilian because you are a blueblood, the perfect codes for possession. You’ve expressed yourself sexually like a reptile, and now you are dormant. Does creativity satisfy you?”

  “Like all men, I have a penis that can be used as a weapon,” Armando said gravely. “I am serious about this,” he said because he knew Claudia thought women had some of the same problems. “The Church uses the male biology to perpetuate their agenda! There are penises under the cassocks and robes of the ‘celibates.’ Men who find their penis to be a problem are attracted to priestly roles because ordination announces publicly they don’t use it. However instead many end up misusing it. Thank God I didn’t become a priest!” He lowered his head for a moment. The others imagined he must be thinking about how this misuse had affected his own life. “Because of the yin and the yang, when sexuality is repressed, dark energy expands, but it also expands when perverted into violence and force. The hierarchy sends abuser priests from parish to parish because the agreement is based on protection. Ordination is used as a penis-control program! But back to your question, Claudia, creativity can help with these problems, but it is not the complete solution. Creative expression is the opposite of sexual repression and violence, so it can balance extreme urges and help people live in moderate ranges. Simon, how do you control urges?”

  “Hmmm,” Simon said, “I was just wondering the same thing myself. Off the top of my head, I think I use curiosity—lust for answers drives me. When I get a real answer, it is almost as good as great sex, pardon me, Sarah.” With a smile, Sarah pretended to kick him under the table. “For me, the world is a gigantic creative soup filled with ideas I hold in constant consideration. I’m sure you all do this in your own way; however, for me this mental process is sensual. I weave an oriental rug out of the ideas being considered by humanity. Claudia, have you ever thought about what could break the chain of abuse, end the constant rituals and sacraments, to collapse the hierarchical power structures that threaten nature, or at the least humanity’s survival? I know you learned from your abuse, but there must be another way to learn these things. Will things ever be different?”

  Claudia tapped her long fingernails on the table. “That is a huge question, and as I’ve said already, things may change as the patriarchy collapses. Addictive rituals like the Mass, war, and sporting obsessions will go away when people are bored with them, a sign the feminine is coming back into balance. But that’s a question for another day.”

  She looked across the table at Sarah, who was as deeply engrossed in the conversation as the rest of them. “Sarah, you haven’t said a lot tonight,” Claudia continued, “but in some ways you know more than all of us. You travel around in these higher realms; I’ve been with you when you do it. I sense you are more certain than any of us that something has changed very fundamentally in another dimension. Do you think processes in the higher realms have shifted in some way? Has something happened elsewhere that is changing or will change things on Earth?”

  Simon saw Sarah put her fingers over the ruby crystal. She took a deep breath and said in a soft, mellifluous voice: “The great cry from Earth is being heard on high. Beings in higher dimension—call them light angels if you like—can hear you now when you ask for them. You must ask for happy children, loving, strong, and brave women and men, good friends, and the cessation of war, poverty, and abuse. It is time to use your desires for good things; ask from your heart. Your reality is now a quantum field of creative change. If you ask for good things, leaders will use their power to make them happen, but you must ask. In the higher realms, countless beings wait to hear from you.”

  39

  The Conclave

  Simon stood in the Piazza San Pietro with the rest of the huge crowd magnetically drawn to be near Pope Francis. Women gushed and cried with happiness, men grinned with otherworldly beatific expressions on their faces, and babies and dogs couldn’t imagine what the fuss was about.

  Despite the objective demeanor he liked to project as a journalist, Simon was just as excited as the rest of the crowd about the new pope. The more he discovered about the new pope, the more he thought of him as a symbol of the shift, a sign of real hope for the future.

  Before the cardinals locked themselves up in the Sistine Chapel for the conclave, they had had a forum in the Synod Hall, the transcripts of which were publicly available. After a few days of speeches, Bergoglio from Argentina had spoken for only four minutes, yet in that time span he had turned the cardinals around! The others were sick of hearing about how to reform the Vatican’s dysfunctional bureaucracy and the sex-abuse scandal. Instead, Bergoglio called for the Church to create a new story of evangelization to awaken Christ-centered consciousness. He said the Church must be the mother who cares for her children, the poor and marginalized people in pain. His vision was of a Church of justice and human dignity instead of one that drew attention to its own inner processes all the time. He said it was time to break down the Vatican walls, and miraculously the other cardinals selected him!

  As soon as the choice had been made public, Simon had called a reporter friend at the Buenos Aires Herald to ask him whether Francis was all he seemed to be. His friend, Marcelo, said Francis was consistently good-hearted, honest, disciplined, and brilliant. The story was that he learned how to be a good leader by making a lot of mistakes after being appointed a provincial superior in the Society of Jesus when he was only thirty-six. He created a lot of problems by being too authoritarian. He had learned from that experience, and now he favored consultation. Unlike most popes who relished the chance to be the sole authority, Francis had already appointed a group of eight cardinals to make decisions with him.

  Simon could feel his heart swell with the shared hope and excitement of the crowd. On this unusually warm April morning, the aroma of flowers, food, and the nearby Tiber was intoxicating. Next to Simon a hunky young Italian guy was passionately kissing a luscious girl in a beige miniskirt and mid-calf leather boots. Simon’s cell rang, and he was surprised to see it was Sarah. She rarely called him while he was working, so it must be important. He put the phone to his ear, eyeing the couple with amusement. The guy was gripping the girl’s firm buttocks with hungry hands while his tongue was down her throat.

  “Simon, I have great news and a question. Your sister Jennifer just called, and she wants to come to Rome in a few weeks to do our photos here. Is it okay if she comes soon? If so, where will we put her?”

  “That’s fabulous, Sarah, and it’s so nice to hear your sweet voice right now.” He turned and walked away with his phone because the young guy had caught him looking and was now shooting him annoyed glances. “I’d love to have her visit! Ask her to let us know exactly when. Don’t worry about putting her up because she n
ever bunks with people. She needs lots of time alone. Suggest the Hotel Gregoriana up past the Hassler. It’s really charming, reasonable, and a short walk to our apartment. She’ll love staying there. Tell her to ask for a balcony on the inner courtyard.”

  “Okay. Don’t forget to come home on time because we’re meeting at Armando’s house tonight. Have a wonderful rest of the day!”

  Armando tore up the spiral staircase to Lorenzo’s office because he was late. He knocked, waited, and the door opened. “Sorry, Lorenzo. The traffic was hell. I hope I have not inconvenienced you?”

  “No, not at all, Armando, I was reading. This office is the most contemplative place I have. My wife talks too much. Today I am taking the whole afternoon here, and you are my only appointment. Come, lie down on the couch, and let’s see what’s going on in your inner mind.”

  “No, please, Lorenzo. If you don’t mind, I want to talk with you as a counselor. I’m happy to recline after that, but I would like to just talk for a while.”

  Lorenzo led Armando to an old studded leather chair and opened the leaded casement windows to bring in some air. “Lovely spring, isn’t it? I don’t remember one as warm as this for many years.” Yiddish mixed with Italian and English wafted up and echoed in the room in the old tower, reminding them both of the many other worlds just below. Lorenzo sat down across from Armando. “Well, how are you? You’ve been doing so well, but after such an intense breakthrough, sometimes there is a backlash?” Armando looked troubled, though his manner was calm. Lorenzo had met Matilda once and had been impressed by her deep serenity. Since Armando’s regression, a similar quality was emerging in Armando’s eyes.

  “Yes, of course, a backlash,” Armando replied. “I have felt the lizard on occasion, and when he appears, I stuff him. Now that we’ve discovered him, I seem to have the upper hand so far. He comes out when I am attracted to women, so I have been painting all the time. Meanwhile, I’m very horny, Lorenzo.”

  “Well, of course you are. What do you want to do about it? I assume women are available if you want them?” Lorenzo had been waiting for this to come up.

  “Of course, women are available. But I am terrified the lizard will get out again if I just go fuck somebody. Actually the lizard seems to be pushing me to do exactly that, so I jack off but that’s not satisfying. When I am with my mother, I am reminded of how much I love the company of women, especially intelligent ones. If I order a Club Doria Pamphili slut, I think I’d be taking a big chance and reverting to my old ways, don’t you?”

  Funny what a little child he is. He was so seriously arrested emotionally at such a young age. Maybe I should try to get him to the couch, but he doesn’t seem to want that. Perhaps he is right—by sitting here his conscious mind dominates. “Ahem, Armando, I am wondering what you liked in little girls and even older girls before that terrible day?”

  Armando, who felt like he was being tested, studied Lorenzo’s face intently. Then what came out of Armando’s mouth was so innocent that Lorenzo wondered whether Armando was going to be able to take the next step—serious commitment to another person.

  “When I was seven, before it happened, I thought a lot about the kind of woman I wanted to marry. I saw images of her when I daydreamed as well as in my dreams at night. Lately I am seeing her again as if she is about to arrive. My sense of her is palpable. She is tall and strong, very intense, and her intelligence is daunting. Now that I’m horny but also wanting something more, I dream about her constantly. I see her walk into our Tuscan library, piercing my soul with dark incisive eyes. Then I embarrass myself as she watches my eyes crawl all over her body; she is offended by my lack of restraint.” He felt sensual just talking about her, yet he shivered and fell back in his chair, feeling like a little boy who was acting improperly.

  Lorenzo knew Armando was describing his own latent inner feminine. He wondered if it would help to tell Armando that. No, he decided. I think he’d feel trivialized. “Have you ever seen or met anyone like the woman you dream about?” He watched Armando closely; he was perspiring because he was forcing himself not to cry.

  “Yes, I have and I ruined her,” he said very slowly, his voice strained. “Claudia was very much this woman, but by abusing her I destroyed her image within myself. I kept on trying to reach her again, but whenever I got close I ruined her more. I can’t do this again; I can’t. I think I could have Claudia again if I asked her to marry me. But I don’t want to marry her and I don’t know why I don’t. Why don’t I, Lorenzo?”

  “Armando, I assume you know about the virgin and whore complex? Some men feel they must have a virgin when they marry, especially wealthy men. Meanwhile, they go around deflowering every woman in sight, still expecting to find a virgin to marry when they feel ready. Perhaps that is why you proposed to Sarah?”

  Armando felt truth in what Lorenzo was saying, but it seemed too trivial right now. He was more interested in this woman he had been sensing.

  “We don’t need to talk about stuff like that, Lorenzo, because it seems obvious to me now. So you think I should use my family background and money to pick off a sheltered Italian twenty-year-old? They bore me.”

  “What do you think, Armando?”

  “I think now that I’m not a monster, I have to stop being an ass. The world has had quite enough of me. My mother thinks I should marry, and I listen to her. You know what? If I can quell the damned lizard, then I could handle a relationship with a real woman. That’s what I think. But I still don’t know what to do.”

  Lorenzo Gianinni listened to Armando descending the stairs. Oh god, how many more years?

  Evening came. The air was warm and aromatic when Armando opened the French doors out to the walled garden while he waited in anticipation of Simon and Sarah’s arrival. Claudia had come early and asked to go to the garden cottage alone. More than an hour had passed, yet he knew he must not bother her. Soon after he opened the doors, she came to the threshold and stared at him while he sat quietly in a leather chair, his eyes closed. He looks so lonely, but he seems to be serene, resigned almost. What does he think about? She activated her psychic eye. Hmmm . . . There is a beautiful exotic garden all around him and a tiger walks up to him. He puts his hand on the tiger’s head, and they look at each other as if they are in love. Armando’s eyes flew open. “Oh, hello, Claudia,” Armando said as he lowered his right hand, which was oddly suspended in mid-air. “I was beginning to worry about you,” he said wanly.

  She walked over to him and put her left hand on his left shoulder; hot shocks coursed through his body. I wonder if she wants me? Anything that happens will have to come from her; I am incapable of making a move. “I’m all right, Armando, all right now. Thank you for letting me finally shut that door.” He felt a tense lock in his chest that he didn’t know how to release. Feeling it, she put her right hand on his right shoulder, which released the energy. She continued, “You and I shall always be friends, always.” He detected the aroma of her perfume.

  Just then Sarah walked into the library with Simon lagging behind, fascinated by the elaborate family crests between the bookshelves. The four of them gathered in comfortable chairs around an ancient cedar shipper’s trunk that served as a coffee table.

  After greetings and small talk Simon initiated the real conversation. “We all agree some kind of field shift has occurred, but I want to know how something like that might work. Anybody want to take a stab?” he asked, looking at Claudia. I wonder if Armando is taking an interest in her again. Nobody did, so Simon went on. “For me, the selection of Pope Francis is the most perfect example of the shift. Bergoglio, now known as Francis, is said to be a brilliant man with a huge heart, who refers to himself as a sinner that God looks upon. A true Jesuit, he embraces community, discipline, and an open mind. He values discernment—making choices from God’s perspective by intending to follow the spirit in all ways and in all times—a focus that comes from the Jesuit founder, Saint Ignatius. Francis appears to be a deeply spiritual man who r
efers to the Jesuits he admired as mystics—Ignatius, for example. On Church governance, he cites Pope John XXIII, who once said, ‘See everything; turn a blind eye to much; correct a little.’ I can only imagine what that advice would do the Church’s ban on contraception or gay marriage! Francis seems to be a smart and dedicated pope. So, Claudia, what forces do you think could have created such a reversal in the Vatican?”

  “Claudia shifted in her chair, crossing her legs. “Well, change comes first from the collective mind—in the fourth dimension—the dark and light range of all human thoughts and feelings. When Pope John Paul I was assassinated after only thirty-three days as pope in 1978, the mind of the Church turned very dark under John Paul II and Benedict XVI, who both attempted to nullify the Vatican II reforms that had defined the Church as the holy people of God. According to Vatican II, infallibility was in the body of the faithful—laity, clerics, the hierarchy, and the pope—and the hierarchy was merely a guide. The faithful felt hopeful for a brief period of time, but dark forces took over the inner structure when John Paul I died, and his body was immediately cremated and his apartments stripped. Next John Paul II used Ratzinger as his hit man while he went all over the globe speaking to adoring crowds in his bulletproof popemobile.

  “The darkness expanded ominously when Ratzinger became Pope Benedict XVI, who covered up the sexual-abuse scandals and eliminated many of the Vatican II reforms. “The hierarchy thought the faithful would just forget the reforms, enslave themselves to pomp and ceremony, and hand over their children to the priests. But they were wrong. A tremendous entropic force was building in the minds of the faithful, a huge resistance to inauthentic authority; eventually the bishops and cardinals began to fear it. I could feel frustration all over Rome at that time, yet still they conspired among themselves to keep the same old Church. Thus an apostasy—the faithful abandoning the Church in droves—began, which meant the money would go away! Judging by the outcome of this conclave, the hierarchy has lost confidence in what they’ve been doing; they have lost their vision of the Church’s future. Bergoglio offered a new Christ-centered vision; the light side seems to be emerging. However, let us remember the Italian Curia knows very well that Francis will appeal to Americans, their main revenue source. Even if Pope Francis is a deceiver, and some people say he is Petrus Romanus—the last pope according to Saint Malachy—people respond to hope en masse, which connects everyone in the dimension just above ours.”