Revelations of the Aquarian Age

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Revelations of the Aquarian Age Page 10

by Barbara Hand Clow


  “But, I thought the big date was 2012?” Jennifer broke in.

  “Yes, that’s right. December 21, 2012, is the date most often mentioned. But, the calendar that date is based on is merely the Sixth Wave in Calleman’s system, the development of patriarchal civilization over five thousand years. People got into fights over the right end date, and during 2012 their squabbling drew attention away from people who think this was a significant moment in time, such as we do. Anyway, reality radically shifted in 2011/2012, and the meaning of this shift is what concerns us.”

  Jennifer was confused, and she felt like Claudia was talking down to her. Still, she engaged with courage. “Okay, maybe something changed then? After all, the world is spinning out of control in the Middle East, and I’m not happy my brother is there. Sorry, Sarah, I don’t mean to say it so harshly.”

  The conversation gravitated to Sarah while Claudia’s sexy foot brushing Armando’s calf had Jennifer’s attention. Why does she act like that? Makes me feel crazy!

  Armando pushed back in his seat to listen to Sarah. “It’s okay, Jen, I have to live with it. Remember when I mentioned the Fatima Prophecies to you in Tuscany? Well, Simon is in the Middle East exactly when the Third Prophecy may be coming true! Islam is becoming very powerful. So, connecting the Maya date, perhaps we are in a time of revelation. We must strengthen our minds to avoid being sucked into the whirlwind that always comes at the end of an age, in this case the end of Pisces. During these last two thousand years, the religions of Abraham have spread all over the world. Factoring in the 2012 ending as the completion of five thousand years of patriarchy, we need to reach back into Earth’s religious roots, the mother goddess.”

  “Certainly,” Claudia chimed in. “We must recover the goddess in these troubled times, don’t you agree Armando?”

  Jennifer, who was feeling crazy, made a huge effort to control her facial expression. Why does she always have to ask him? Bitch! Armando felt her rising heat when her arm rubbed his while he thought about what to say. “Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t know, since I am totally obsessed with the religious themes from Abraham.”

  “Armando,” Sarah broke in. “I think you need to be careful about obsessions when madness flourishes in the world. Abraham arrived in the previous age change—four thousand years ago when the Age of Taurus ended and the Age of Aries began, the age of organized warfare. I don’t admire Abraham, and neither did many people back then. The Bible characterizes him as a user of women who was willing to sacrifice his own son. He is the great patriarch whose God has ignited religious wars all over the known world. I love your paintings, but these juicy archetypes might make you go crazy.”

  Armando listened attentively, as did Jennifer, who also had covert attention on Claudia’s every move. Here I sit with the two women Armando loved, my brother’s wife and Armando’s old lover. Why am I so jealous of Claudia when Sarah is the one he wanted to marry? What’s wrong with me? I’m the one who is crazy.

  “But, Sarah,” Armando replied. “I have to take what my muse sends me; if I get rational, I can’t paint. If you keep going at me, little miss smart theologian, I’ll get more obsessed with Abraham. I’ll have all three major religions after my royal ass, just like they’ll be after yours! Abraham did everything bad he could think of back then, but in our time the Catholics have come up with something even worse—pederasty!”

  This statement coming from Armando created a break in the conversation giving Jennifer a chance to go to the powder room to collect herself. Sitting on the toilet staring at black-and-white tiles on the floor, she fumed. Pull yourself together! Armando is going to know you’re jealous.

  After the discussion meeting broke up, Armando took her back to the library for a cognac. “Jen, you can be honest with me. I think you’re jealous of Claudia! I noticed it up in Tuscany, and I could feel it again tonight. What’s the matter? There’s no reason to be jealous of anybody,” he said kindly.

  “I’ve never felt this way before. I can’t stop it; it’s horrible. When she brushed your ankle with that sexy shoe, I almost died. I wanted to claw her to pieces.”

  “When she brushed my pants with her shoe, I was very annoyed,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “You should know that. What’s the matter with you?” Suddenly he was irritated.

  Hearing that tone just made it worse, since Claudia was the problem, not her. Bitch! Cunt! “Maybe if you tell me more about your love affair with her, it will help. When was it? Did you love her deeply? How long did it last?”

  “But, Jennifer,” he said, “I wanted to tell you about my past before I married you and you wouldn’t let me. Now you’re bringing it back to haunt me, and that is not fair! You said you didn’t want me to tell you because then you’d have to tell me about yours, and you won’t. Maybe you’re jealous because of some weakness in you not me?” he said in a mocking tone. The chime in the grandfather clock rang midnight.

  Rage boiled in her mind, acid burned her gut. Who the fuck does he think he is? Fuck you, Armando! “Okay, Armando,” she snarled. “I’ll stick to our deal; I can stuff it.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  Not liking what he saw, he studied her tortured and confused face. “Think of when we make love. Do you think a man who makes love like that to you wants other women? Grow up. I can’t stand jealousy. It’s spiteful and toxic, bitter, chaotic, and nasty. Envy doesn’t serve you well, so stop it! You have everything to be happy about; you worry me,” he said in a concerned voice stripped of reserve.

  She knew he loved her and wouldn’t very much longer if she couldn’t control her irrational and insulting jealousy. But, what did they do together? How did they make love? What did he feel when he gazed into those seductive brown eyes? Bitch! She said in a squeaky voice, “How many years were you her lover?”

  “Ten, but damn you, you’re breaking your own rules. How many lovers did you have before we met? Were they all men or did you have a few women? Did you enjoy a ménage a trois? Did you seduce married men? You can’t have it both ways!” He was angry and tense.

  The rage burning in her mind turned her gut into acid. She struck out feebly and almost ripped his fine linen shirt with a high-pronged cocktail ring. White light blasted her mind in a furious explosion—rage. Her face contorted as he grabbed her wrists, holding them tightly, making her body twist. She felt like a little fool. “Stop it, you bastard! Just stop it!”

  Armando glared at her enraged red face, and then he felt it, the lizard! His shoulder blades got hot and started extending out, his cock got instantly hard. His groin filled with fire as he exploded with power while twisting her arms backward. It hurt. “I’ll show you what I can do with my cock when you act like a brat. Spread ’em baby, give it to me.”

  He seemed to expand and get taller when he wrenched her arms. She twisted herself loose, now afraid, which gave her strength. She rubbed her arms, which hurt terribly, and screamed, “No, Armando, no, not like that. We’ll lose everything we’ve found. Stop, stop, help me!”

  He heard it when she said she needed help. The only thing he could think of was Lorenzo as he released her arms and the lizard deflated. “Perhaps Lorenzo can help you with this jealousy if you’ll go to him. You need to figure out what’s wrong because you’re acting crazy. And I’m not stable enough myself yet to be the one to help you. You’re unhappy and triggering me. I’m sorry for my reaction. I’ve had to work way too hard to gain control of myself, and you’re better than jealousy. You’re not a fool, and we all need help sometimes. And who knows, you might already be pregnant. You need help.”

  She sat down in her chair and reached for the cognac. “Right; I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hate jealousy but I can’t control this right now. Claudia is your friend, Sarah’s friend, and I want to get along with her. I know you don’t want her, yet I wanted to kill her the minute I saw her. I wanted to dismember her like a harpy. I will get help. I still think I was right about the two of us keeping our past
to ourselves. If you did tell me things, I’d probably be more jealous. I need professional help. But your behavior is unacceptable too. If you can’t control your temper and emotions, I certainly wouldn’t want you around a child, or myself for that matter.”

  He surveyed her distraught eyes as she rubbed her bright red wrists. The lizard’s hot passion terrified him, and he felt badly about hurting her. Thank God I never told her what I did to Claudia. If she knew, she’d lose her mind, poor thing. Thank God she blocked me from sharing the truth last year. I don’t know what’s torturing her from her past, but Lorenzo can help. Thank God for Lorenzo, the man who keeps the secrets in Rome.

  10

  Dinner in Rome

  On a cool October morning, Lorenzo was in his office in the Trastevere thinking about Claudia while sitting at his large desk covered with an assortment of ancient sacred objects he used in his practice. In five months I’ve gone deeper with Claudia than I did during my thirty-five years with Eleanora. Oh, how little I understood my clients’ marriages and love affairs.

  He was passing his left hand slowly over the ancient objects on his desk to detect any magnetic attraction from the divine mind. Who is Claudia? He slipped out of linear space and time like quicksilver repelling glass. Passing his hand slowly over carved crystals and small ancient statuettes, he detected heat in his palm over a large turquoise scarab that had been found in the tomb of the famous Eighteenth Dynasty vizier, Rekhmire. He picked it up and cradled it in his left hand where it filled his palm as he ran his right index finger over hieroglyphs on the bottom—exotic symbols flashed in his brain. Scarabs symbolize resurrection, attaining a whole new life after one has lived and then died. Yes, I was dead in my marriage. Now with Claudia, I am alive and connected. When I walk Rome’s streets, I pass the living dead, yet a few are luminous and diaphanous, even transparent.

  Many years ago, Lorenzo analyzed Domenico Chigi, a brilliant Egyptologist at the Vatican Museum. The analysis had been profound and affected both of them. As a parting gift, Chigi gave him the valuable scarab saying, “This scarab is encoded with the star ascension codes that were still understood during the Eighteenth Dynasty. The pharaoh used it to traverse out to the Orion star system. Someday, you’re going to ascend and this scarab will guide you.” Lorenzo put the scarab back on its velvet pad, wondering what it revealed about Claudia. Maybe I’m ascending with her? The phone rang.

  “Hello, Lorenzo, dear. I hope I’m not interrupting?” Claudia said sweetly. She rarely called; however today she knew he didn’t have clients.

  “Of course not. I was just thinking about you, and your phone call verifies the answer to my question. You and I knew each other during the Eighteenth Dynasty in Egypt, a time when many people could travel through all nine dimensions guided by the Heliopolitan mysteries. Right after that, the corridors to many worlds were severed.”

  “What a lovely thing to say on a chilly Sunday morning, but I’m calling about something mundane. Simon is back from Iraq and I wonder whether we might have them for dinner as our first guests? It’s time for us to begin sharing our love. If we invite them for dinner, can we have them at your house, since you are more equipped for dining than I am? I want them to see your home.”

  “A wonderful idea! I’d love to have them if you will cook with me. Yes, let’s invite them this weekend.”

  Sarah picked up the phone while having breakfast with Simon and Teresa and listened to Claudia’s excited voice. She answered while Simon listened. “We’d love to have dinner with you. I thought so, something is going on.”

  “Yes, of course it is. We can’t wait to see you both!”

  Sarah put the phone down looking knowingly at Simon, who had heard everything. They laughed as they decided to leave their daughter in the care of the playgroup parents that owed them some child-care favors. This way they could be sure their toddler didn’t tear their friend’s home to pieces, a perfect adults’ night out.

  Simon and Sarah parked their small Fiat on the Via Nicola Fabrizi and walked down a stone pathway marked by the number nine. The fall evening was balmy and aromatic with eucalyptus spice from a nearby grove refreshing the dank odors of the Tiber. Simon gasped at Lorenzo’s imposing entrance. “What a grand villa, just what I’d expect of the famous analyst. The gargoyles are fabulous. Ooooh!”

  “Yes,” Sarah replied. “The house must be at least a few hundred years old. Just think, we were there the day they met; Claudia was stunning that day.”

  Claudia opened the heavy door to lead them in. “It’s three stories, and Lorenzo occupies the first floor and rents out the upper apartments. As far as we know, it was a commercial building in the late Middle Ages and was converted to a mansion in the eighteenth century. It suits Lorenzo because he loves Italian high style. He got it for an affordable price almost forty years ago when this side of the Trastevere was a slum. I love the way he designed his living space. The taxes are exorbitant, but the rent covers them. The bottom floor is very private because the grounds and gardens are reserved for us. Our favorite room is the library, which was once the main salon, so let’s go there first.” She led them to a sitting area with a fireplace and large window on one side, a bay-window alcove on the other, and the area beyond packed with stacks of bookcases. They craned their necks to view elaborately carved moldings that divided the high ceiling into geometrical frescoes of brightly colored mythological scenes.

  Simon said, “I think I can make out the four seasons up there? This must have been a cardinal’s house or the house of a wealthy merchant. What a great library for an analyst!”

  Sarah surveyed the enchanting high ceiling, turning when Lorenzo walked in, anxious to have a look at him. She’d only met him briefly at the wedding, and he had looked like an old man, very distinguished, but still, old.

  “Hello, Sarah,” he said enjoying her excited face. “Isn’t this room great?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m so impressed,” she responded while looking him over, the man who was now her dear friend’s lover. He was ruggedly handsome with a face animated by clear amber eyes with gray flecks and a friendly smile. He was fit, healthy, and very alert.

  Lorenzo’s library

  To Simon, Lorenzo looked twenty years younger than at the wedding. He was aware he’d lost his wife the year before, so maybe he’d gotten over it. Or maybe he was looking great because he was in love. Simon took his warm hand. “Hello, Lorenzo. It’s so thoughtful of you to invite us. Your home is more marvelous than I could have imagined. You were so smart to buy it when you did. You can’t touch a building like this in Rome these days.”

  “Right,” Lorenzo replied smiling. “We raised our family here, which was ideal. It felt sinful to have it all to myself until Claudia came along. She’s my frequent visitor and the house has welcomed her.” He took Claudia’s hand showering her with a glowing appreciative smile; obviously he adored her. Claudia returned his gaze with total openness, an expression Sarah had never seen before. The clarity suffusing her face amazed Simon, who had never seen her glow with joy, certainly not when he dated her. In those days, when nobody was watching, her face, though beautiful, was apprehensive. “Yes,” Lorenzo went on. “My life changed when I met Claudia. I live in a new world now, a world of joy and love. Just when I thought everything was all over, this beautiful lady came to me.”

  Sarah soaked in her friend’s happiness. After everything she’s gone through, finally she has what she deserves, a brilliant partner.

  They sat down at a large planked table in a cavernous room with ancient dark beams and satiny white plaster walls, a regal and earthy space. Sarah asked, “Was this always a dining room?”

  “Well, no,” Lorenzo replied. “The original family, the di Benincasas, wove tapestries in this room. We made it into the dining room because I like the beams and the worn brick floor. This house was like a labyrinth, so it was fun to make it into apartments many years ago. I used the back storage area for the bedrooms, my kitchen is where they dyed thr
ead, and my library was the sales room for their tapestries. The two upper floors each have four small, charming apartments, easy to manage because nobody ever moves out once they get one. The building goes back at least to the 1400s. We think the fancy library ceiling was plastered and painted in the 1800s when somebody had a lot of money.”

  The hosts brought out one steaming dish after another. Simon poured wine while Sarah sat peacefully as the table filled up with bowls of pasta, salads, bread, and a clay covered casserole with four steaming lobsters. They ate while chatting about the summer, and eventually they were ready for serious conversation as Sarah said, “Lorenzo, since you study archetypes and symbols, are you familiar with Plato’s Great Ages?” Lorenzo nodded to indicate he knew about the 26,000-year cycle of precession with each Great Age around 2,160 years long, changing fields that inspire human cultures to develop its themes. Sarah continued, “Well, during the Age of Pisces these last two thousand years, humans contacted the divine through religion. Yet, as the Aquarian Age flows in now, somehow we will access divine consciousness on our own. What I wonder is, have you detected these ages in your client’s minds? That is, do people have an inborn knowledge of the Great Ages, a cultural timeline?”

  “Well,” he responded thoughtfully, “what an intriguing question. Let me put it this way. When my clients go within, they discover rich and symbolic interconnected data. They actually do describe the symbols and archetypes of the Great Ages, come to think of it. For the last ten years or so, more and more clients have been describing the Waterbearer, the Aquarian symbol of a man tipping a jug of water and pouring it on the ecliptic, the apparent path of the sun through the stars. Your question fascinates me because when the Waterbearer shows up in a session, it tends to pour the water on the aspect of the client’s life that is undeveloped. To offer a mundane example, recently a client saw himself pouring water over a startled golden retriever. It was so simple—he needed a dog! My clients know what they need because their psyche tells them. Yes, the great turning wheel of the ages—Hamlet’s Mill—does seem to be an aspect of their minds. As for me, I’m sick of the Age of Pisces! Religious wars these days disgust me; ISIS is barbaric, and the Western Crusades are inane!”

 

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