Revelations of the Aquarian Age
Page 1
For Sir George Trevelyan and Toby and Teri Weiss
This book exists because of a 1993 encounter I enjoyed with Sir George Trevelyan in Old Sarum Circle near Salisbury, England, when I was there as a teacher for Toby and Teri Weiss’s Power Places Tours. Sir George, then in his eighties, strode across the circle to speak to me. The fabled Grandfather of the New Age took my hands, looked deeply into my eyes, and said kindly, “You, Barbara, with many others, will carry the mantle after me. I see you standing tall in your power, witnessing the arrival of the Aquarian Age.” I was stunned and never forgot the moment; this book is my response. Sir George, you are right. We are spiritual beings, Earth is the training ground for souls, and now we are ready.
REVELATIONS
OF THE
AQUARIAN
AGE
“. . . a cosmic journey and the story of the hidden history of humanity whose wisdom secrets have been repressed by the patriarchy to keep humanity from realizing its spiritual potential. Barbara Hand Clow opens the door to understanding the importance of the Divine Feminine to heal our world and why the wisdom once taught by Jesus and Mary Magdalene, which was repressed by the Church for over 2000 years, is so crucial to the time we are living in now.”
TRICIA MCCANNON AUTHOR OF RETURN OF THE DIVINE SOPHIA AND JESUS: THE EXPLOSIVE STORY OF THE 30 LOST YEARS AND THE ANCIENT MYSTERY RELIGIONS
“A novel bound to enthrall those who were captivated by The Da Vinci Code. Well written and full of mystery.”
GRAHAM PHILLIPS, AUTHOR OF THE CHALICE OF MAGDALENE
“An extraordinary new offering from one of the world’s top visionary writers. Revelations of the Aquarian Age is a beautiful blend of wisdom and drama played out by a compelling cast of characters. A must-have for anyone seeking answers to the most profound sacred mysteries regarding humanity’s divine cosmic origins.”
ANDREW COLLINS, AUTHOR OF GÖBEKLI TEPE: GENESIS OF THE GODS AND THE CYGNUS KEY
“Revelations of the Aquarian Age is a roller coaster of mystical downloads cleverly wrapped up as a well-researched work of fiction. I absolutely love the author’s methodology of getting these ripe jewels into as many hands as is worldly possible. Blessings upon you, Barbara Hand Clow.”
ANAIYA SOPHIA, AUTHOR OF SACRED SEXUAL UNION
“Barbara Hand Clow is a modern-day shamanic storyteller. The energy layered within her fictional work is all-seeing. She is indeed one of those very rare individuals with the ability to enlighten those who seek an alternative answer to the evil that currently envelops our world. Revelations of the Aquarian Age gives the reader the eyes to see what is hidden in plain sight. Her research, historical insight, multidimensional layering of detail and character development takes my breath away. Above all else, her novel’s underlying message—that universal love and compassion will triumph over evil—is a celebration of the human spirit.”
WILLIAM F. MANN, AUTHOR OF TEMPLAR SANCTUARIES OF NORTH AMERICA: SACRED BLOODLINES AND SECRET TREASURES
“Revelations of the Aquarian Age is a novel brimming with spiritual insights and ‘heretical’ lore, whose plot weaves around a modern alchemical painting of Jesus and the Magdalene. The author deftly uses the surfacing of secrets guarded by two ancient Italian families—the Medicis and Pierleonis—to stage what is in effect a plausible scenario for the real start of the Age of Aquarius: Christ’s Second Coming.”
TUVIA FOGEL, AUTHOR OF THE JERUSALEM PARCHMENT
“This book takes the reader into an unseen world of intrigue, mystery, and other dimensions. Recent historical discoveries exposing the motives behind the manipulation of facts by organized religion are brought to light as the world moves into the Aquarian Age. I’m looking forward to reading the next one! Another must-read by this enormously gifted author.”
SYLVIA CLAIRE, CHT, LBLT, CERTIFIED PRACTITIONER OF LIFE BETWEEN LIVES THERAPY®
Acknowledgments
I have been a nonfiction writer since 1976 but always secretly wanted to write fiction. When I attained the grand old age of seventy, I knew it was time to do what I always wanted to do. All the characters for the Revelations Trilogy came to me in May 2011, so it was time. Revelations of the Ruby Crystal has been in print since 2015, and now I have completed this book, Revelations of the Aquarian Age.
Writing this trilogy has been a huge learning curve for me, and I never could have done it without my editorial team at Bear & Company, Meghan MacLean, my main editor; Trish Lewis, my developmental editor; and Elizabeth Wilson, my copyeditor. You deserve a Bronx cheer! They have been supportive, patient, and brilliant all the way through.
Thank you, Jon Graham, for encouraging me in taking this risky path, and thank you, Ehud Sperling, for your support for so many years and your bravery publishing fiction. I am deeply grateful for all the work of the sales and marketing team, especially my wonderful publicist, Manzanita Carpenter Sanz.
BARBARA HAND CLOW
I am archaic woman encoded with planetary intelligence traveling out into the stars to gather my knowledge of the universe. I return from cosmic realms in the morning and weave the stories of all time in my mind. All these levels are in my body, and I feel these levels in everyone I touch. I am the goddess holding the hearts of the suffering people. I am joy.
CLAUDIA TAGLIATTI
Contents
Cover Image
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Acknowledgments
PART ONE: WeddingsChapter 1: A Wedding in a Castle
Chapter 2: Jennifer and Armando
Chapter 3: Lorenzo’s Apartment
Chapter 4: Majorca Honeymoon
Chapter 5: Jesus and Mary Magdalene
Chapter 6: Holiday in the States
Chapter 7: The Green Zone
Chapter 8: A Private Conversation
Chapter 9: A May–December Love Affair
Chapter 10: Dinner in Rome
Chapter 11: Jasmine
Chapter 12: Deep Secrets
PART TWO: The Lost Gospel Chapter 13: Forgiveness
Chapter 14: Man on the Hill
Chapter 15: Demon and the Bitch
Chapter 16: Jesus and the Bee
Chapter 17: The Lost Gospel
Chapter 18: Everything Going Faster
Chapter 19: The Story of Time
Chapter 20: Goddess Rituals
PART THREE: Platonic Solids Chapter 21: Majorca Dreaming
Chapter 22: Meeting the Medici
Chapter 23: Barcelona Dreaming
Chapter 24: Parallel Secrets
Chapter 25: Chapel of Princes
Chapter 26: Tuscan Gathering
Chapter 27: Two Messiahs
Chapter 28: Celestial Swan
Chapter 29: Christmas 2015
Chapter 30: Avatar of the Piscean Age
Chapter 31: The Ruby Crystal
Chapter 32: Chaos Point
About the Author
About Inner Traditions • Bear & Company
Books of Related Interest
Copyright & Permissions
PART ONE
Weddings
1
A Wedding in a Castle
“I can’t believe the day has finally come, Pietro. It is almost time to go down, but my heart burns with uncertainty.”
“Matilda, you’ve waited so long for this day. Are you unsure about Jennifer?”
Matilda and Pietro Pierleoni were in their bedroom alcove looking out the window. They’d paused for a moment after dressing for the wedding of their only son, Armando, at their ancestral castle in Tuscany. Gentle breezes flowing through the open windows meant it would be a perfect spring day. Early morning showers had
freshened the olive trees; the air was moist and aromatic and water droplets on the medium green leaves sparkled in the sun. The distant sounds of guests arriving below for the wedding drifted up through the windows.
“It’s not that; she is the perfect wife for Armando. But, I wonder whether he will be the husband she desires. I do hate to say this now, but you asked.” She studied his concerned gray eyes, looking for reassurance.
“Well, my darling, every marriage is a journey into the unknown. We usually do it because we are blinded by desire or want children. Armando is a very successful painter at age forty-two; he’s ready to marry. He loves creating, and he will devote himself to her because he is ardent. Come, we must go down now to greet our guests.”
They walked thoughtfully down the long hallway, slowing momentarily by the entrance into the empty family chapel. They stepped side by side down wide stone stairs into a large vaulted great room.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, a high-pitched bell clanged three times—time for the ushers to pull open the heavy dark oak doors to the entrance corridor. The guests began walking up the steps to the entrance to greet Pietro and Matilda. Lorenzo Giannini, their son’s Jungian analyst, was among the guests. He was very excited about seeing the count and countess in a castle that went back before the Renaissance. As the crowd came forward one by one, the regal couple received them at the bottom of the wide stone stairs, which rose grandly behind them like a swan taking flight. Matilda had come down these stairs forty-seven years ago as a bride; soon her son’s bride would do the same. Matilda was elegant in a beige brocade suit laced with golden threads, bordered in azure that brought out her clear blue eyes. Anticipation flushed her glowing skin brightened by sunlight streaming down from high windows onto the stone floor in front of the staircase.
The first guest to approach was Sarah Appel, a radiant young woman in a robin’s-egg blue silk tunic that pulled across her breasts because she was carrying her eight-month-old daughter, Teresa. The baby, mystified by all the excitement, was looking around for somebody to smile at when she spotted Matilda’s teary, shining eyes. She flapped tiny hands, looked Matilda straight in the eye, and smiled with glee. Matilda reached for a chubby hand exclaiming joyfully at the sight of the rosy little girl, “Oh, you brought Teresa! She is more adorable than ever.” Meanwhile, Sarah’s husband, Simon Appel, was in the cloakroom under the stairs prepping to be Armando’s best man.
After squeezing Pietro’s hand and whispering in his ear, Sarah went to sit down with her baby. Claudia Tagliatti, a tall and extremely thin woman, grandly swept up next wearing a clingy, loose-weave peach dress by Oscar de la Renta that revealed strong upper arms above long ivory gloves. Her finely sculpted neck bones also were visible as she paused in front of Matilda. She arched her chin and tipped her wide-brimmed ivory hat to peer out with intense brown eyes. In a dramatic low voice she said, “Ah, what a day for a wedding. I am sure you are so happy?”
Matilda grasped her hand, pressed it warmly replying, “Yes, and I’m happy that you and Armando are friends again. You look lovely, my dear, just lovely.”
Claudia had been Armando’s lover for a long time many years ago. Now she was forty-two and the owner of a fashion boutique in Rome. “Thank you. I’m sure you cannot wait for his children, finally.”
Pietro, a short man with a purposeful demeanor belying an elfin twinkle in his eyes, stepped out to embrace Claudia. “My dear, you are beautiful today!”
She laughed from deep in her throat. “Ah, Pietro, what a day for you! My heartfelt congratulations!”
Next William and Mary Adamson came, Sarah’s parents from Boston and old and dear friends of the family. William had been here when Matilda made her entrance as the bride.
Moments passed, and then Lorenzo Giannini gingerly approached. Pietro cast an astute glance at the dapper and intelligent-looking small man who bowed grandly saying in a jocular, confident voice, “Hello! I am Lorenzo Giannini! Finally, Count Pierleoni, we meet after I’ve known your son for so long. I’m honored to be here today. And Countess Matilda, a joy to see you again. Your serene and wise blue eyes were often in my mind’s eye when I counseled Armando. It is so lovely to see you.”
“I’m so happy to have a moment with you before the wedding to tell you I believe you saved my son. You were so remarkably patient with him for ten long years, and now he is marrying a lovely woman. We can never thank you enough for what you have done for Armando! Welcome to our family and our home.”
Lorenzo was very touched and somewhat surprised by this intimate and unexpectedly warm welcome. He rarely knew what his clients’ relations actually thought about him. He smiled warmly and released their hands to walk to the other side of the great hall where there were approximately forty chairs in four rows backed into the tower, all bathed in sunlight. The large white satin bow tied to the end chair in the front row indicated it was reserved for family, so he went to the next row to sit next to a long-legged woman in a clingy peach dress. Is this her? The stylish woman arched her back and turned to him as she said in an intimate low voice, “Dr. Giannini, I am Claudia Tagliatti!” She brushed his left knee with a slim hand in a white glove.
The edge of her wide-brimmed hat lightly pressed against his ear lobe, which irritated him. Maybe she bothers me because I know the intimate details of her life with Armando. He drew away slightly to whisper, “Lovely to meet you, Claudia. I must confess I feel I already know you.” Then he pushed back observing the family members in the front row.
Claudia straightened her back to pull her hat away from the edge of his face and whispered, “Since you knew Armando for so many years, I do hope today we can have a few minutes together alone?”
The request made him nervous. As an analyst deeply entrenched in Roman society, he avoided contact with people who intimately knew his clients. But in this case, Armando’s long treatment was complete. He only came back for an occasional tune-up to help him adjust to big events in life. Her request confused him because in fact he did know her rather too well, yet only from Armando’s point of view. Regardless, in spite of all he knew about her torturous, long relationship with Armando, he was extremely drawn to her. She is more of a woman than I thought she would be. Still observing the people in the front row, he whispered back, “Yes, I would love to have a few moments with you today.”
All attention was taken by the sound of music coming from a large hallway to the right of the staircase. A boisterous group of young musicians dressed as medieval court jesters swept into the great hall playing a lively cantata by Handel. Jingling red-and-black bells dangling from floppy hats created an air of merriment as the last of the guests quickly settled. The music stopped and all eyes moved to the top of the wide stone stairs. An old carved door creaked slowly open. David Appel joined his daughter and placed her white-gloved hand on his arm. He gripped Jennifer’s arm firmly because she was shaking. They descended in rhythm to a Tuscan madrigal syncopated by insistent soft beats on a taut drum.
Armando stepped out from the room under the stairs with Simon trailing behind. They went to the side of the stairs to wait for the bride. Armando wore a dark green velvet suit lavishly embroidered with pompous heraldry and gilded rope trim. Foppish starched white ruffles burst out under his chin and edged the sleeves. Lorenzo was astonished! This is a throwback to the eighteenth century! What is he doing? He looks extremely uncomfortable.
Armando was outrageously handsome regardless of his silly attire. His thick black hair showcased a nervous yet reserved aristocratic face that gleamed in the sunlight shining down from the tower windows. He moved stiffly, his waist cinched by a wide leather belt that held a long sword adorned with the Pierleoni crest. He turned slowly and awkwardly to gaze up at Jennifer coming regally down the stairs. He stopped breathing. Matilda captured his nervous eyes and showered him with a joyful, approving smile. Armando smiled wanly back at his parents, bowed stiffly to them, and then they went to go sit in the front row. Lorenzo wondered�
�Did Count Pietro wear that ridiculous sword on his wedding day? However, it was fun to observe old customs that used to mean something. After all, they are one of our most ancient Roman families. Lorenzo was so entertained by the scene that he forgot about the lady sitting next to him who was glued to the scene with amazed eyes partially veiled by the rim of her huge hat.
Judge Giacomo Piccolomini, wearing a flamboyant medieval courtier’s robe, strode like a fanning peacock across the stone floor to greet Armando as if this wedding were an affair of state. The father of the bride hid amusement as he gave Jennifer’s hand to Armando. Armando bowed stiffly, looking David straight in the eye. Then David went to sit with his wife, Rose, who was also trying not to smirk at the unfolding scene. Lorenzo returned his attention to Armando standing with his bride as he shoved the top of the sword with his elbow to keep it from pressing his ribs. He looks rigid. What a bizarre background he has! What century are we in?
The judge slowly turned to face the guests. The acoustics in the hall were excellent, so they all could hear the judge speak solemnly about the joys of marriage and family. Lorenzo was touched by the meaningful and sincere vows between Armando and Jennifer. They must have worked hard on this. She’s an exotic, sensual bride and what a gown. Not many women could carry that off. Has Armando come this far because of me? They are real in the midst of this ridiculous Italian pomposity. He heard a squeal that sounded like a parrot.
Baby Teresa had spotted her daddy up there and was waving her arms to be picked up. Simon turned his head slightly when he heard Teresa snuffle, then eek out a loud “Ahhhh!” Both parents knew a scream was coming next, so just before it was time to exchange the rings, Simon put his hand back behind his right leg and beckoned with his fingers. Sarah got up and smoothly passed Teresa to her daddy, who held her in his right arm while clutching Armando’s ring in his left hand. Her eyes widened seeing bright golden ropes looped on Armando’s shoulders. He smiled and chuckled as she reached for them, breaking his tight control.