Initially the caterpillar’s immune system believes that these new cells are enemies, and it attacks them. But the cells continue to appear and multiply. In the end, they are simply too many for the immune system to suppress. So they begin to clump. More and more clumps connect with each other, exchanging information, until the new being cannot recognise itself as a caterpillar any longer. And so the butterfly is born.
This is the perfect metaphor for the transformative power of the frequency of Light. We are literally made of stars. Everything is. But people have forgotten that this is the case, and their hearts become hardened by life, and lose the ability to tune into the magic underlying the whole of creation. And their evolution, humanity’s evolution, is in peril.
As the ancient prophecy goes, the end of the world ‘as we know it’ is scheduled to unfold on 21 December 2012. That date marks the beginning of a new era for humanity, and the return of the Light of the Morning Star. A core group of individuals must have by then developed new, more Light-filled, love-filled cells in their bodies. New Beings will emerge out of the chrysalises of those three-dimensional bodies in which the cells are resonating to the sound of a steady, ponderous frequency. Their bodies will metamorphose into their complementary fourth dimensional selves and their cells will be closer in their pulsation to pure love. These new Beings will be a fusion of human and stellar. Their minds will be capable of controlling matter: mind over matter, indeed. These evolved humans may even choose to become immortal simply by willing it.
Lying next to you that night, I tried to forget that I was no ordinary human being.
“Should I embrace my destiny or should I press the ‘pause’ button?,” I kept thinking.
I was torn. I thought you loved my human side. I was afraid my stellar self would scare you, or repel you. After all, I had inhabited an almost completely human body for the first twenty-five years of this life on Earth. This body was the body that had attracted you, that you had made love to that night.
My heart had never been fully human. I was endowed with a Star-heart, a heart that could pump the Light through all of my bodily systems. I could only experience sadness or unhappiness for short periods of time. I was programmed to be loving, loved and happy.
Having a Star-heart also meant that I could only connect with the best in people, because the Light always shines the darkness away. The heart holds the archives of one’s parallel lives, and the Key to reconnect with one’s True Origin, which in my case was my life as an angel on planet Venus. My heart would ultimately never let go of the memory of my stellar origin. Even in times that could have been considered hard in human terms, I was still able to connect to the experience of wholeness and belonging, and I never felt alone. Rather, I felt at one with it all. I always sensed there was much more to me than my body. I knew it was just a vessel for the Life Force to express itself. The very presence of the Life Force, if left unhampered, would refine my bodily form and turn my material self into a more rarefied version of itself. Change was the only certainty.
Having said this, however, there were many times in my life when my denser, cellular memory told me a different story. Truly, what I remembered of my Star descent faltered frequently during the first two decades of my life. My work with the Godhead Society in my early twenties helped me to make sense of my divine inheritance. There were days when I would very clearly remember my role in the Plan. But on other days I wouldn’t be so sure. At some other times I even ignored the whole predicament. These swinging feelings were characteristic of my stance towards my part in the Plan. At the time we met in Glasgow, I was almost convinced that I would one day turn into a somewhat magical being, equipped with healing, transformative power over matter in all of its expressions and forms. Despite that, on the morning after our first night as lovers, the idea that I was pre-programmed to evolve into a higher kind of creature at some indeterminate point couldn’t have been any more unwelcome in my thoughts.
The day greeted us with a grazed kiss of pale sunshine on our naked bodies. My physical transformation had kicked-started for sure. I radiated love. Our Union was a symbol on the outside of deeper processes taking place inside of me. Mating between the human and the stellar had commenced. Total cellular metamorphosis had begun in my body that night. You were bound to feel the effects of it, if passively. Yet, to the world we simply looked like a man and a woman in love, happy to wake up with love in their eyes at the sight of their beloved’s body.
“Hi,” you said.
“Hi there,” I replied.
We were lying with our heads on our pillows, face to face, gazing into each other’s eyes and into eternity. Bed hair and tired eyes, we were the perfect picture of a night of passion. How I loved you that morning. What joy filled my senses when I was with you, knowing that I was loved by you. We caressed each other’s faces softly, and then our bodies a little more passionately. Before I knew it, you had made me come with your skilful tongue again. Raptures of pleasure pervaded my genitals. I released your energy with my hands and lips, learning to love your smell, intoxicated by the bond of intimacy that had finally tied us into forever. You came, and then went to the bathroom. When you returned, you stopped at the end of the bed and stared at me as if spellbound, like only a man in love can look at his woman. The innocence in your eyes was disarming.
“You’re beautiful, Cassandra.”
“Have me again, Oscar.”
I parted my legs to invite you back into my essence, to explore me and join my Life Force in the brightness of the day. The Light was by then circulating freely in my body, transforming it and refining its cells. I wasn’t thinking about it though. Your passionate presence had my full attention. But my womb had already transformed. My ovaries now contained cells that had turned into their immortal analogues. My ovules were becoming eternal. The sensation in my loins was one of a peaceful, golden liquidity. It was contagious in its bliss. I thought it was due to the mind-blowing attraction we had for each other, and our incredible physical compatibility. Again, your tongue found its way to Shambhala through a part of my body that was becoming fourth-dimensional. You must have felt those vibes in my womb, too. You started kissing my vagina, penetrating it with your tongue, tasting my juices, placing long hard kisses on and inside me. The fourth dimension was reaching you through the portal of our Union, blessing your mouth, your eyes, your face. A bolt of energy beyond orgasm ran through your body. You had never felt more alive. You couldn’t let go of me: you kept licking me, snogging my sex, and then coming up to my face begging for a kiss from my mouth.
“Not yet,” I kept saying, guiding your head down gently, to drink once more from the fountain of Light. My need for the exquisite orgasms you were giving me had become insatiable. We rearranged our limbs so that I could reach for your penis. I stroked it and I licked it slowly as my index finger drew a small circle on the soft skin of your perineum, tantalising your testicles. You wore the face of ecstasy and it became you. This time you came so fast and powerfully you almost roared. I laughed and hugged you as you caught your breath. I was glowing and on top of the world. You were flushed and collapsed on top of me. I caressed your chest lazily, adoring every hair on it.
Then like a crash, a sudden rush of remembrance came to your mind, sticking a knife in your heart. Tears streamed down your cheeks. I wasn’t expecting that. The intensity of the Light in me, which I was sharing with you together with my bodily juices, was already stirring the darkness inside you, trying to chase away the shadows of your past. They needed to be remembered if they were to be let go. Your heart was heavy then, as you put your face on my chest, weeping as you talked.
“My hand is hurting again... the pain comes and goes... it’s a very old hurt, Cassandra. I’ve been carrying this wound from my childhood. It’s marked my path and cast its shadow on every single, brief moment of joy...”
You didn’t look at me as you spoke. I took your hand and placed it on my heart. It should heal it, at least temporarily. You went on
after a long silence.
“I was sent to the hospital when I was a child. Once when I was six. And again when I was eight. There were problems with the way I behaved. I was possessed. Well, they told me that I was...”
Your eyes were on the sheet that covered your body up to your torso.
“I was sent to hospital to be made better. I don’t know if they managed that. The first time I was in hospital for three weeks. It was tough. I missed my mum and I was scared. I cried a lot until I lost my voice. I had convulsions, I had seizures. One night they tied me to a chair in the Infirmary. They tied my hands so tightly behind the back of the chair that they broke my wrist. This wrist here... And now it’s hurting again, and it wants to be healed. Every time I’m given love, my wrist hurts and wants the love I was deprived of for so many years. My lack of love is here in this wrist and I need you to heal it, Cassie. Please help me...”
You turned your face away from me and spoke no more. I kept caressing your right hand, the one that had been hurt and that embodied a hurtful memory, with all the gentleness of a mother with her child. Then I kissed it. Through that kiss, a shadow touched my lips and entered my heart. I felt a pain in my right hand and looked at my ring finger: a black line appeared around it. It looked like a wedding ring. Your pain had travelled to my body and I was now married to you. As it turned out now, that night I got married to your wound.
The morning turned into lunchtime. We got dressed and ventured back into the world of normal existence, with big smiles on our faces and new scars in our souls. You think love is the cure for everything when you have fallen. Yet you forget that you have to act upon it as well. It was cold outside. I almost didn’t notice as I darted through the crowd of commuters at Connolly Station, to board my train to get to college. I sat by the window and watched the prettiest world go by. Cars shone in the sunshine and trees whispered sweet secrets. All I could see was your face: in the traffic lights, in the clouds, on my eyelids when I closed my eyes. I could still smell you and taste you inside me. I felt alive and complete, and ready to be born.
Now that I was prepared for what was to come, I would learn to adjust my life along the way. My mind went back to the many lectures and workshops I had attended at the Godhead Society in Edinburgh. I had seen drawings and I had spoken to those who had glimpsed at transformation through meditation and other practices. I was personally built to transmute so I wasn’t going to need any particular regime to become what I was meant to be. My body was going to refine and evolve its abilities of its own volition if I simply let it thrive in a loving environment. The ordinary human body I was born with had merely functioned as a chrysalis to protect my Star-heart. Through your love, it would grow stronger and increasingly familiar with the environment surrounding it.
My Core frequency would send signals to the cells of my body that would then be reprogrammed and transformed into more crystallised, more permanent particles responding to impulses from my thoughts. I would learn to direct my thoughts accurately according to the purpose they served. My body would become the ultimate life-vessel. In its ability to connect with the Life Force and follow the Way of Creation, it would become capable of influencing the magnetic fields of plants, animals and humans in my proximity. Their cells would briefly align with the Way, and the experience of wholeness would leave an indelible imprint in their consciousness. I remembered the lessons I had learned to perfection. All those drawings and strange names were starting to make sense.
Lost as I was between thoughts of my love for you and the sensation of transmutation in my body, I found myself at the gates of the university. A Light-spark appeared out of thin air. It flew near my nose and spiralled around my body. Then it darted ahead. I followed this pulsating point of light trying to keep up with its pace as it guided my way through the campus. I wanted to get closer to it but it was faster than me, and very unpredictable. It disappeared and reappeared at will. I finally gave up trying to get close to it and let my mind wander back to thoughts of you.
“My love, my sweet love, my springtime...”
Nothing else mattered, nothing else but you.
A voice came from behind me: “Miss Morgante! Miss Morgante!”
I turned to see who was calling me. The tall young man running to catch up with me was one my students from the Norman Ireland course. I’d never talked to him so I didn’t know his name yet.
“Sorry I can’t stop,” I said. “I’m late for a class. Meet me at the lecture hall at four o’clock. We can talk then. Or you can come to my office later.”
He stopped and leaned on the secular oak at the entrance to the quad. The Light-spark was now dancing around him. I focused my stare on it and it disappeared. My thoughts went back to the previous night of passion in your arms. A silly grin remained tattooed on my face during the lectures I delivered that day.
In the afternoon, the young man came to my office. He wanted to present his proposal for his thesis. He thought I would be a suitable supervisor for his work. His name was Tage De Vries and he was Dutch. His proposed research pertained to the Knights Templar in Ireland. As the historical account goes, older knights were sent to estates here as from the beginning of the 12th century, as Ireland functioned as a retirement home for the Order. Some of the oldest and most knowledgeable Templars ended their careers in this country. Traces of their secrets and wisdom must still be around, waiting to be unravelled.
Tage’s ambitious intentions were to do just that. During the previous three years, he had travelled across Ireland extensively, collecting much photographic evidence of various buildings, locations and burial sites. He had examined records of legal documents that related to the dealings of the Order. He was now ready to collate the records into a thesis, and I was the right person to help him work through the bulk of his materials. His investigations would start at Clontarf Castle, which was a prominent location of Templar activity in the past, and then follow a geographic tour of the various places where the Order had operated. I smiled at the realisation that you and I were living in Clontarf, on what was once Templar soil. Thoughts of your sweet kisses returned, and I lost track of what Tage was saying. How he still wanted me as his supervisor after my distracted antics was a surprise.
* * * *
From the first months of our relationship as lovers, I worried about you. I had noticed a pattern in your behaviour: every instance in which you reached out and opened your soul to me would be followed by a phase of withdrawal and silence. You had started going on solitary walkabouts more and more often. Sometimes we would be in bed together and all would have been perfect, when all of a sudden you would become taciturn and sad. You would put your clothes on and say: “I’m going for a roam: I need to clear my head.” I had become used to it and knew that it was part of your process of letting go of your haunting memories. Your past was full of pain and you didn’t want it to enter the precinct of our holy relationship.
But your swinging moods were evident. There were two sides to you. Even on the evening after our first night together, when I came back from my lectures and threw myself into your arms, I was greeted with silence and a clumsy embrace. This took me by surprise; I was expecting to find you waiting for me, but instead you were avoiding me. Was it wise to probe as to the reason behind your withdrawal? I didn’t want to risk further rejection so I let it be. In the months and years to come, I would learn to accept your bipolarity as one of your idiosyncrasies. The more love you were offered, the more darkness you would return. Sure, you had warned me. But I had wanted to get to the root of such an affliction, in order to eradicate it for good. You needed time, patience and gentleness with your ego. By shining Light on anything that hurt you, the Truth would be revealed little by little, and you could learn to accept that joy, happiness and peace were your inheritance.
I wanted you back in my bed as soon as possible so I had to find a way to mellow you. I went to the kitchen and filled the kettle up. Your Irish side would always be partial to a cup of tea. Wh
en I switched the kettle on, all the lights in the house went off. I heard you bump into a piece of furniture in the hall and curse, the first time I heard you use language like this. Something lurked, something at the edges. I hated what it felt like. I knew that presence full well, and the tidings it brought. It was Evil: my nemesis.
Fear descended upon the house and loitered with petrifying intent. It touched your heart and met no battle. You surrendered to the dark force that had occupied the room. I couldn’t move from the kitchen. My body was paralysed. Or was it my mind? I sent commands to my legs to move and go to the sitting room where the man I loved was under attack. You were in great danger and under a very perilous threat. But the order wouldn’t reach my limbs, despite all of my efforts. My chest filled with terror. It was a new experience, and one that shook the very core of my soul. If this was what it meant to be human, if this was what inhabited your heart, I was relieved it wasn’t my predicament to feel thus.
Your fears were being magnified by my connection to your mind and thoughts. My angel heart could shatter every emotion that plagued you, together we could battle and eradicate them for good. But I wasn’t expecting anything of this magnitude, something that could turn me to stone to this extent. I wanted to call out your name and tell you everything was going to be alright, but no sound came through my lips. Was I possessed? Evil was in the house. It lived somewhere in your memory and its grip was overwhelming. I forced myself to think about the way you, my lover, had looked at me only that very morning, with purity and relief in your eyes.
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