These two planes are separated by a filter called the Veil of Illusion, or the Veil of Maya. This Veil is where the Mind of Creation is perceived as fragmented, although this is pure illusion, a trick played by the individualised minds of each living being. In actual fact, all minds are but One. However, the sense of human identity is determined by the ego. Unity of mind is only experienced by a few enlightened souls on the three-dimensional Earth. The opposite is true in Shambhala, which is inhabited by pure minds whose symbiosis and synchronicity are perfected. We are such minds, and we use our Light-Bodies in our work to ensure that the Purpose of Creation can be revealed to the dwellers of the Earth.
Shambhala is as real to us as it is a myth to human beings. As human legend goes, the Gobi desert was once a great ocean where there was an island called the White Island. Its dwellers had bodies made of Light. The humans called them saints and worshiped them as deities. To the uninitiated, the desert is all that can be seen. But Shambhala is no myth: it’s a parallel dimension. To us, there is no desert but an ocean of Light surrounding the Diamond Island. We are those Light Beings, and the island is our home. We are a colony of Higher Beings. Some of us are of Earthly descent. Most of us are Star People. We often interact with humans, though invisibly so. We hear and answer their prayers.
The intrepid spirit we had told Cassandra about when she was a child is connected to the purpose of the Shambhalians. Her role in the Movement for Planetary Ascension is fundamental, as it will become apparent. The Movement includes humans as well as Light Beings, mortal and immortal alike. It revolves around an Ancient Prophecy that tells how humanity will change into a higher, more evolved, more loving race when humankind wakes up to its Potential and the Light of the human soul. However, over the millennia the ego has cast the thick fog of illusion over it. Thus humans perceive and create the world in a distorted manner.
The physical location of this Light is in the pineal gland, or third eye, of the species’ brain. Initiates into the Mysteries of Ascension undergo training to open the third eye. This in turn will kick-start the complete reworking of the human organism into a more sophisticated instrument, and will activate humanity’s 12-strand spiritual DNA. The first two strands of DNA, scientifically discovered, are physical: the double helix building blocks of life. But there are five other double helix pairs in the DNA system of life. These pairs are non-physical and are imprinted on the human energy field. Together, the six pairs of strands constitute the “12-strand DNA” system”. Through the process of activation of the other five pairs, human beings will become ‘enlightened’ at the physical level, transforming their bodies into special vehicles capable of self-healing, teletransportation, telepathy and other so-called ‘super powers’. They will become the masters of matter and elude death for longer than they are currently able.
According to a Mayan prophecy, on 21 December 2012 the number of ascended humans will reach a critical mass. This will trigger a series of transformations and bring about major changes in the world. For the better. It will be the end of the world as humankind knows it. It will happen against many odds, although many are sabotaging the prophecy. But we know the outcome because we travel across time, just like Cassandra.
The Earth is the Garden of Eden though not many can see it. Children can catch a glimpse of the beauty of this planet, albeit growing up tends to adulterate the soul. But the day is approaching when, in the Light of the True Self, human dwellers will learn to distinguish the illusions of their egos from the truth of their souls. Evil will fade away like a snowman in the sunshine. All internal conflict, which once produced external struggle, hatred, competition and war, shall cease to exist at last. The King of Shambhala will emerge to govern the New Earth, revealed in all her glory to the renewed human race. The story has a happy ending and it’s been written in the stars, although a period of decadent, dissolute materialism will precede the Age of Shambhala. This dark prelude coincides with the final decades of the twentieth century, and the first few decades of the new millennium.
This message is reaching you from a springtime afternoon in 1993. That reference to time is just a figure of speech, given that our place is in an out-of-time zone. The air around our beautiful Diamond Island is electric. The two rainbows stretching from the four corners of the city gates are brighter than usual. In this City of Light made of pure consciousness, everything – animate or inanimate – is endowed with the highest degree of awareness. Everything is willing itself into perfection, higher and higher.
At the centre of the city is a square paved with gold that hosts a marble fountain of many jets. In the Northern part of the square is a building of breathtaking, transparent beauty: the Palace of the Great White Lodge. The Lodge itself is in session this afternoon. The city and its atmosphere are fizzing with anticipation. We, the Ascended Masters, are discussing a topic of great importance. We have divergent opinions on the possible outcome of Cassandra and Oscar’s love-story, given the anxious preambles. The conversation is becoming animated and twinkles are jetting off our halos like sparkling wheels. Evolved as we are, we, the members of the Lodge, don’t need to use our mouths and vocal cords to speak. Our thoughts are transmitted by our auras. St. Germain, a gentleman with light brown hair, a beard and piercing blue eyes, is addressing the Lodge. A purple flame is sparkling in mid-air over his head, expanding or decreasing according to the intensity of his words.
“This is turning out to be more interesting than expected, and more influential on a wider scale,” he says. “Nature is now taking heed of their actions. When they are together in physical proximity, and their hearts are wide open to each other, they can tune into nature, and they can even influence it. They can also pitch their frequencies to Shambhala, though they can only reach as far as its Gates. Although these are the early stages, that’s still a great achievement. What is more, their joint frequency causes dimensions to approach and make contact. There are spillages and overlaps between the third, fourth and fifth dimensions. They appear to be quite random as things go. Nevertheless, their connection is powerful. Time is often irrelevant when they hold hands. They slip in and out of it. Especially Cassandra. Space also means close to nothing: their joint frequency didn’t change in any of the locations they’ve visited so far. The Botanical Gardens only served to amplify their sound. Great new developments. I for one declare myself completely hopeful.”
Something flashes behind him. We turn, in synch, to the south-facing balcony. The brightest blue and red butterfly flies through the main twin-lancet window and across the Great Hall, landing on the only empty chair around the hexagonal table. Her flapping wings sound like the drone of millions of tiny violins.
“Sorry I’m late...,” the butterfly says as she transforms into an attractive, long-haired lady. She dusts pollen traces off her silky dress and continues.
“I heard what you said, St. Germain, and I agree with you. But what those two are doing is also premature and dangerous. There is still a lot or darkness lurking around them, following in Oscar’s trail in particular. Cassandra is unaware of that, but he knows it full well. She can see the Light as easily as he can see the Darkness. They are the perfect Alchemical Couple and many forces have noted that. The animal and plant kingdoms love them, mind you, and their energy protects the chosen pair. However, I personally have some concerns, I have doubts as to the outcome...”
“Lady Myriam,” St. Germain says, “whatever it is you may have seen that makes you doubt their abilities, it wasn’t obvious from here.” His Twin Flame, Portia, sparkles brighter as he speaks. From the stance of their perfect Union, of their holy man-woman relationship, they could never doubt Cassandra and Oscar’s love.
“My concern,” the butterfly-lady says, “has to do with Oscar’s frequent escapades into the Otherworld. They’ve been happening since his first initiation in Australia three years ago. Now he’s connected with the spirits of his ancestors and his frequency is often brought down to the third dimension through his root ch
akra. This creates Time, as you know. And delays. Cassandra is a creature headed for the fifth dimension. As a chrysalis, she is still in the fourth dimension while her heart is in the third only for the purpose of allowing her to connect with human beings. She is immune from Time. Yet the stronger her connection with Oscar becomes, the more three dimensional does her heart become. And more heavy. Which means that it is becoming magnetised to follow him everywhere he goes. Even if he’s wandering into the Darkness. I hope these two don’t end up like their predecessors...”
Portia speaks this time. “Myriam, are you saying that you think this is a trap? Should we test him further? Is Cassandra’s memory of her Identity strong enough? Has she really learned to listen to her inner voice? Can we help her? Now we know that she can see us. She’s trying to figure out this surge of feelings in such a human way... I can’t help but find her even more endearing. She reminds me of me when I first met St. Germain. Will she find the right vessel? Is Oscar a suitable mirror?”
Sanat Kumara, the Lord of the World, stands up. The Hall becomes silent. All heads turn towards him. He opens his arms: rainbows appear all around him. He joins his hands, puts his palms close together and then turns them upside down. A hologram materialises above them and moves to the centre of the table, becoming a big screen. Images are coming from planet Venus two million years earlier in human time.
The hologram is showing the Seven Holy Kumar, the governing council of Venus, in session. The decision is being made to send one of them, Sanat Kumara himself, to Earth to guide human beings back to the Light. His divine complement, Lady Venus, and their only daughter, Lady Meta, are going with him. A colony of Venusian higher souls will be following them to the Lunar Observation Settlement. After a period spent monitoring and learning about earthly activities, they will move to the third dimension.
The scene fast-forwards to Sanat Kumara’s arrival here in the etheric region above the Gobi desert. We can see him and Lady Venus during the phases of planning and constructing the city of Shambhala. Many other colonisers are busy working alongside them. Meta, however, is nowhere to be seen. The hologram disappears. The atmosphere in the Hall becomes solemn.
It’s Sanat Kumara’s turn to speak. “How can anyone doubt Cassandra, or Meta, to use her original name, given her prestigious descent? How can we not want to do everything to make her accomplish her mission and fulfil her dream? Maybe she is a novice, that’s true. She is the youngest soul who ever left Venus. She was admitted to the Earthly Game simply on the base of her pedigree. After all she is the offspring of one of the Kumar Lords, and her mother is Lady Venus.”
Despite her ancestry, however, all the Masters know that the girl lacks experience and has a thirst for the wild.
* * * *
“Ah, my daughter... she has always been such a free spirit...”
As the other Masters talked, Lady Venus was thinking back to the day of Meta’s brief disappearance.
“That’s how her troubles began. She became lost, or more precisely, a part of her became misplaced on the day we were scheduled to leave for the Earth. It was her destiny. She was always far too impetuous and her enthusiasm was always stronger than her ability for patience... Something must have caught her attention while she was queuing for her turn in the Launcher. She must have heard a sound, a call, a longing. I could sense it as I stood in the queue.
The beautiful Earth below looked suspended in her atmosphere. All blue, so sad and lonely... Meta must have turned her attention to that sense of lack, of missing, of homesickness coming from the planet she was headed to. And then it happened: she ended up dipping her soul into time earlier than planned. She disappeared from our radar and landed in the place that would eventually become Shambhala. We would find traces of her Core signature there upon reaching the destination. Way back then, however, to me she was nowhere to be seen, as if she didn’t exist. Could her act of rebelliousness have caused a dent in the Masters’ Plan and a twist in the Game? In that circumstance, doubt crept into my mind for the first time, brought there by Meta’s earlier actions. What a strange experience it was for a spirit headed for the Earth, ready to found our Earthly city and start a race of angels...”
* * * *
Out of my sight, something moved swiftly from behind my back. At first I thought it was you: perhaps you’d changed your mind and came back. I was wrong. Nobody was there.
I dismissed the idea as overzealous wishful thinking: “I must have imagined it.”
But then, with the corner of my eye I saw a tiny, indistinct pin-point of light approach from behind a tree trunk in the direction of the bench by the pond, leaving sparkles in its trail.
“Whatever that is, it moves too quickly to be an animal.”
The presence had my full attention. The air stirred and froze. A familiar feeling of liquid serenity pervaded my senses. That’s when I saw her. My eyes popped wide open, like two saucers. I pinched myself to check I was not dreaming. In front of me was the tiniest lady, the size of my hand. Her words sounded like crystal bells twinkling, even though she wasn’t speaking. I was in no doubt as to her identity. Skin of light, hair of fire, eyes like diamonds. I heard her thoughts though her lips weren’t moving. She laughed when she saw that I was startled. I recognised her as Lady Myriam. She knew my name as well. She pronounced it slowly, every syllable sounding like music. She made it sound as if I was hearing it from the first time in its full meaning.
“Cassandra,” she said, “... she who entangles men...”
She was my kin: from where I came and where I was going. The timing of her appearance was interesting: as soon as you had left to go on your quest and my heart had started longing for you, she appeared. Myriam, the butterfly-lady, came to fill the void, having heard the longing of my soul.
She signalled for me to approach her. I inhaled and exhaled deep breaths to increase the Life Force in me as I moved over to the bench where she was sitting. Nobody else was there, nobody could see this magical creature. I stood in front of her in my most responsive stance, open to her message. I saluted her by placing my joined palms near my heart in the prayer position: “Namaste, Lady Myriam.”
The flame in my heart started to stir in its sleep, ready to come alive.
“Namaste,” she said.
I took a step forward to try and detect her features. The Light sparkling from her was strong and pleasant. But my eyes couldn’t focus well and I couldn’t really tell what she looked like. Did I detect wings? I had to move closer to see if I could gain better vision. I stared into her aura, which was as big as a human aura. I must have tried too hard. She disappeared into thin air, leaving me wondering if it had only been a dream, a vivid hallucination of some sort.
I sat on the bench where she’d been sitting only seconds earlier. Her peaceful presence was still in my heart. We had established a connection. She had gone back to Shambhala, to the Lodge, a place I had often visited in my dreams and meditations. This time I was on the right path. There would be no turning back. I’d been watched and helped in the past. Now I knew by whom. Lady Myriam was a spirit guide. My mission had started and my memory was coming back. My human side, my cocoon, was starting to subside, at last. My powers would soon become more manifest. I had to be careful. This might scare people off. It might also bring me the wrong kind of attention.
I needed support. I thought it best to go and speak to the members of the Godhead Society to see what they would make of these latest developments. I was catching glimpses of the seed of my true Star-Being. I knew who I could become under the right circumstances. I was carrying the torch for the New Humanity. The Flame in my heart was alight. It needed to be protected in its growth. Pure consciousness had taken physical root inside my chest from the day of my incarnation and it had guided me to that point in life.
I was a child of the Stars who had taken up her mortal embodiment on Earth. That in itself was a rare achievement. I was to shed my human body for my Light one and the time was approaching. So
far, I had managed to keep my sanity. It hadn’t been easy. There had been many instances when I couldn’t stop my local identity from experiencing the non-local. Even as a child there had been moments when the mere act of focusing my attention on some living organism – an insect, a kitten, a puppy – would make me feel a sense of unity with them. As if we were not two distinct beings, but one. Their innocence coupled with mine would allow for this entrainment. Since innocence was the key, would I be able to maintain this pristine, non-judgmental frame of mind throughout my adult years, despite all the experiences life was to throw my way?
But Light and Darkness always go hand in hand in the plane of duality. My Light was bright. The Darkness it would cut through was pitch-black. Was I strong enough for the tests ahead of me? Were you? Did you grasp who I truly was? Were you prepared to walk on the Path with me? The future of my mission depended on your choice.
* * * *
During the following weeks I missed you immensely. My longing for you drove me crazy. It turned physical. I lost my appetite and survived on a diet of sugary lemon tea and cigarettes. Your absence was disrupting my routine as much as your presence had before. I spent hours daydreaming, sitting by my window sill, looking at the world passing by. I went for walks in the Meadows, the city park by the University. I would lie on the grass and stare at the sky for hours. Then I would sit up and write poems about you. My friends started to avoid me. I was a broken record: Oscar, Oscar, Oscar. I couldn’t let go of the thought of you. You had become a part of me, a diamond in the crown of my mind. Once the twain meet, they shall never be truly apart. Or so, at least, I believed. Every night during your leave I was startled out of sleep by a vision of you. In my dreams I would see you talking to me, holding me, caressing me, staring at me. So vivid were your nocturnal visitations I could have sworn you were there with me in the peace of my ocean-blue room.
Star Woman in Love Page 8