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Author:
Mariana Stjerna
Email:
info@soullink.se
Book:
On Angles´ Wings
Price eBook:
9,24 USD (incl. VAT)
Price Paper:
17,10 USD (incl. VAT)
Price Kindle:
13,62 USD (incl. VAT)
ISBN:
978-1484174647
Country:
Sweden
Publisher:
SoulLink Publisher, Sweden
 
 
About the author:
Mariana Stjerna is a highly respected Swedish channel and author. She has been psychic since childhood and has written several spiritual books both for adults and children. On Angels´ Wings is the English publication of her Swedish breakthrough novel På Änglavingar. Other examples of her international releases include Agartha – The Earth´s Inner World and the upcoming Mission Space.
 
Description:
Are you afraid of dying? Do you believe that life ends with your last breath? This book is the story about what happened to the famous Swedish author Jan Fridegård after his passing. Through his spokesperson, Mariana Stjerna, he tells vividly with both humor and seriousness his experiences on “the other side”.
The reader is invited to join Jan on an amazing journey On Angels´ Wings to different worlds and realms throughout our widespread cosmos. Some highlights: Crossing Over, The Akashic Records, Creation, The Nine Elders of Sirius, No Man´s World, Astral Realms, Midnight Mass, The Angelic Realm, Shamballa, Ashtar Command, Helia and Sananda. The book also contains a Cosmic Map of the different kingdoms, with the Great Spirit in the middle.
 
Reviews:

Every person needs to know what happens to you after your passing,what kind of reality you will experience, what kind of lovely conditions that are waiting for you. This book gave me the answers and it did so in an entertaining and humorous, jet serious way.
Congratulations to all readers!
Carl

Thank you very much.
You're books are outstanding and thought provoking.
Thanks again.
Raymond

 
Excerpt from the book:


Contents

The Cosmic Map 3
Introduction 7
1. The Crossing 9
2. My Happy Valley 15
The Akashic Records 17
3. Creation 23
At First Came the Invisible Worlds 26
The Fall of Lucifer 27
Yin and Yang – Duality and Polarity 28
The First Humans – The People of the Sun and the Stars 29
Zio and the Migration to Earth 31
4. The Lost Millennium Kingdom 35
The Tale of Toja 39
5. The Nine Elders of Sirius 45
The Reptile People 47
6. In the Angels’ School 55
The Dual Flame 57
7. The No Man’s World 63
8. The Realms of the Astral World 71
The Realms of Dreams 71
The Realm of Music 78
The Nature World 80
The Realm of Animals 86
The Children’s Realm 89
9. The Midnight Mass 95
10. The Realm of Beautiful Arts 101
11. The Angelic Realm 105
The Banquet 109
About Soul Groups and Twin Souls 114
12. Meeting with the Master Djwal Khul 117
The Journey to Earth 118
How to Materialize and Dematerialize 123
13. Back to Shamballa 127
My Home Is in the Angelic Realm 130
14. Disobedience Is Punished 135
15. The Ashtar Command 141
Mission North America 144
About Earthly Feelings and All-Love 148
My First Pupil 152
16. Helia and Sananda 157
The Goddess Helia: The Virgin Mary 157
An Opportunity to Ask Master Sananda Questions 161
17. Alien Contact 167
A Political World Conference Gets a Cosmic Visit 170
18. About the Aura and the Chakras 175
19. About Prayer and Meditation 181
The Prayer of Mother Marta 182
The Creative Power of Thoughts 187
20. Who Am I? An Existential Question 189
Appendix 195
The Cosmic Map – Explanation and Guidance 195
The Original Meaning of Colors 198
List of Diseases and Colors 199

Introduction

When I was asked to write this book I never hesitated. My Angelic companion Jan wanted to recount his personal experiences after death, from the moment of dying up to the present. He is a Spirit who, when he lived on Earth in the twentieth century, was a well-known writer in Sweden. He is a happy and humorous person, but also has profound experiences from the Cosmic Evolution. When he suggested that the name of the book would be On Angels’ Wings, I at once associated this name with a memory from my childhood.
I love looking at the sky. Sometimes storm clouds gather in dark flocks, indigo-colored, with violet nuances. Sometimes there is a bright, blue sky strewn with fluffy, cotton wool puffs. When I was a young girl they were called “Angels’ wings.” I used to try to catch sight of a “real” Angel among them. Sometimes the dark clouds had gaps filled with light and I believed that within these was a sea of light where Angels flew, looking down at the silly humans through their cloud-windows. When they observed all the misery on Earth, they closed up the gaps with feathers from their wings.
When I asked Jan to tell me about Paradise he laughed heartily and answered, “What people think of as Paradise is not at all as they believe. Everyone creates his own Paradise – or whatever it is – with his own thoughts. I intend to start from the beginning, and the beginning for me is the end of my Earth life and the beginning of life before life.”
“Are you in Paradise now?” I asked, somewhat naively.
“Oh no, I’m not!” he answered with a grin. “Your image of Paradise is not suitable for a rogue like me.” He took a beautiful red autumn leaf and held it before my surprised eyes.
“This is but a small part of a living code,” he went on. “It is a living code that can change its character, and yet it is a part of Eternity. The leaf will fade, yet lives in full splendor and beauty, like mankind. Man has lost his closeness to Nature, and that is the key to his whole existence. If he loses that key he will also lose the meaning of his life. He will be trapped in his ego, which will take over his thoughts and actions. He will be the victim of misguided and impure energies. Please let me tell you a story that will be the greatest of all the stories you have heard.”
Most people are not only scared of death, but also look on death as a punishment or something horrifying. I hope this book will remove such fears. No one can prove that my channeling from Jan is the Truth – but can you really talk about proof in this context? I am content to be the spokeswoman for a soul who has given me the information and inspiration to write On Angels’ Wings. Now we will listen to a story told by Jan – a story that he, himself, will tell you from beginning to end.
– Mariana Stjerna

1. The Crossing

It has been a very long and hard step from the gray and poor farm laborer’s cottage of my childhood to the well-established and wealthy author of today. When I grew older I was rather pleased with my life, especially when I jawed with colleagues and other such people. I was never afraid to tell the truth, but sometimes the truth was afraid of me. The ugly things in life have danced a waltz with the beautiful things, and that suited me. I constructed my books in the same way that you build a stone wall: big stones at the bottom and smaller ones on the top, with a little air in between. I have been a noisy person, arguing and nagging whenever I thought it necessary. I have always rubbed people the wrong way, and I continue to do so on the other side of the Light Portal.
If you think I exaggerate on occasions, please try to understand me. Up here I don’t live on raw herring and potatoes. Our diet is different and I mostly try to be classy. This book will not deal with “small potatoes” (as we say in Sweden), but about something tremendous and somewhat inconceivable. It is unbelievable and magnificent! We are going to travel together in Worlds that have only one Law: the Cosmic Law, where Harmony meets Disharmony ending in both minor and major keys, making a chord of fantastic beauty.
I have described my life on Earth in books that are both autobiographical and educational. Now I am going to tell you about my real life, the life I was born into the moment I took my last breath on Earth. I now understand that the poor life in a farm laborer’s cottage wasn’t as trying and laborious as I thought it was at that time. I was at one with Nature, as I, day by day, in sunshine and rain, tended my cattle and repaired fences or worked hard with the soil. I learned to understand all the signs of Nature which were given to me in abundance. My open mind received new impressions and secrets from season to season, but at that time I didn’t understand how valuable the school of Nature was.
Mine was the sky – cloudy, clear, or gray and rainy. Mine was the ground with its riches, even when the snow covered the sleeping plants, their struggle for birth and rebirth in the new Spring, in the new, clear light. Mine was the marshy ground that watered my dirty, tired feet – friendly in summertime and deceitful in other seasons. The trees were telling me of their fear of being slaughtered by men craving money – and of their happiness, being able to stretch their crowns towards heaven. Bushes and weeds told another story of a stinging world, full of hideaways for all sorts of creepy-crawlies. I did not understand then what a wonderful place life was!
Much later I became friends with the poor farm boy in me and defended his right to be human in a society where people were treated far from equal. I learned to accept but also to question and not to swallow whole everything I was told. There are always flowers in summertime. They wink and flirt from the verges, because they know their place. The road must be free of flowers. On the road, traffic rushes by without seeing them. They exist, but they must not disturb the cold, gray stretch of asphalt. It is the same in life: There are flowers at the side of the road. Do you really have time to stop and pick some of them, without disturbing the entirety of the landscape? I think that you should. You have to pick them, or life will be transformed into an eternal freeway with no dreams and no beauty.
Now we will talk about my Birth into a completely different life. I closed my eyes in my Earth-life and stepped straight into the next life. I will tell you about the new life that started at the same time as my last breath!
How strange! I was breathing and felt bright and breezy! I looked at myself lying lifeless in my bed, but I didn’t like what I saw. ‘The old man has really aged,’ I thought, ‘and is as ugly as sin! Once I was a handsome man … No, I was not, I am!’
Where did this knowledge come from, that I am what I am – Now? I turned my eyes from the old man in the bed and discovered a shiny, silvery, and very thin thread or ray between him and me. ‘Exactly like a dog’s leash,’ I thought, and I laughed out loud. But the man at the other end of the leash didn’t laugh. He looked dead. Suddenly I understood that that was precisely what he was: dead. I thought, ‘Then who am I? I was him, and now I am him too!’
Sometimes you read about things like that. I was Jan’s spirit now! I didn’t feel any different – but I was very curious. Jan was dead – long live Jan!
The dog’s leash was there the whole time. It is normally called the silver cord. I knew very well that I had to endure it for about three days. After that it would loosen by itself, like the umbilical cord of a newborn baby. In fact, I had read a lot about what happens after death. But now, when I was really there, in the middle of the Unknown, I felt uncertain. What does a human being really know about what happens after death, about life between lives? There are many theories – I always had a lot of them. But now … Where was I going? Where was the borderline between theory and knowledge?
People came into the room where the dead Jan lay – the dead Jan who was really alive! I recoiled and discovered that the silver cord could be stretched. I went out through the wall and I thought – sarcastic as I was – about my book called The Tower Rooster. Would I do the same thing as the old man in the book – hang on the outside of the tower – or would I get a lot further? In that case, how?
A pair of hands clutched mine. I was lifted through walls and the roof and I caught a glimpse of a huge entity dressed in white. The entity pulled me with him/her, gently but resolutely. The “dog-leash” was still there, but I didn’t care, it must stretch a long way. We flew through the air like in some science-fiction novel. ‘Maybe,’ I thought, ‘maybe they are telling the truth!’ I laughed, because I used to write very down-to-earth prose. I saw no church towers, I didn’t see the landscape the way you see it from an airplane. Maybe we flew through clouds, maybe it was some other fog, but I saw nothing. It grew dark now and it felt as if we were going through a tunnel. I closed my eyes. The unknown hands still grasped mine very firmly. It was strange how nice and safe it felt.
I couldn’t resist pondering over what was going to happen to the other Jan, the one down on Earth. Was he to be buried in the cold soil or be eaten by fire? Maybe it was good not to know. I decided to leave it to this other person, who I presumed was an Angel. Well, if I hadn’t gone astray or down the wrong track, of course! (But we seemed to go upwards, not downwards!)
I couldn’t help smiling at that black thought, and at that moment we landed. I opened my eyes. I must admit I feared being surrounded by a burning Gehenna. Instead there was a large plain. I saw shapes rushing by – thin, transparent, foggy shapes.
‘Oh,’ I thought, and sighed gloomily, ‘First you get to a kind of preliminary stage of purgatory. I know my Bible. After that it’s all downhill. Well, I deserve it!’
“Am I like those?” I asked, and pointed at some ghost-like shapes gliding by.
“Not at all!” answered my winged companion with a smile. “You’re like me!”
I looked more closely at her. She was dressed in a long, pale garment. She had blonde hair which reached her waist, and her large dark-blue eyes had the color of a summer-night’s sky. She was not as tall as I had first imagined. Or perhaps she had shrunk after our swift journey? She was not transparent, but she seemed very light and lithe. Then I looked at my hands. They were still my hands, but they were softer and smoother.
“I am called Jolith and I am your Guardian Angel,” she continued. “Jan, your physical body is dead, but you are alive! As long as the silver cord still remains between you and your body on Earth, your eyes will be veiled. When it is broken we will see where your free will leads you. I will remain with you for a time, but the day will come when you won’t need me anymore.”
“Why? Where are you going?” I asked. I was curious to know everything about my new friend. We had only just met; why was she talking of leaving?
“I will have a new mission,” she answered in an evasive way. She still held my hand. She had a strong grip, as my father used to say. He judged people by their handshake and he didn’t like what he called a woman’s handshake. “They feel like dead herrings,” was his rather harsh judgment. I suddenly longed very much for him. Why was he not here to meet me, in order to show me around heaven, laughing in his noisy way? If this was heaven, of course. I doubted it; everything was too simple and too foggy. I was not yet sure. Perhaps I had ended up in purgatory. A priest would have known; priests have a knack for that. Perhaps the vicar at home was now preaching about purgatory at my funeral. I wouldn’t be surprised. I have said many bad things about priests.
“This is only the beginning, Jan, and not what you think.” The Angel-girl smiled. “You will feel different when the cord has gone. Part of you is still on Earth. This is not what you would call Heaven.”
“Is there really a Heaven?” I mockingly asked.
“There are many!” Jolith answered, and her sea-blue eyes glittered. “Wait and see!”
I yielded. I had always been curious about what happens after death, and here I was, holding hands with a beautiful girl, while faceless shadows were passing like a shoal of eels, clearly without a goal in this colorless existence. “Am I forced to live here with these shadows? Who are they?” I allowed myself to ask. I looked at her. She was as pretty as a picture – her blond hair and rosy cheeks could have been painted by Botticelli. Was I dreaming? Was I really dead? Was this really purgatory?
“No, my dear,” she answered, although I never voiced the question. “You can see the shadows who have not liberated themselves from their Earthly bonds, although their silver cords were loosened long ago. They are Earth-bound souls who are mourning their life on Earth. Some of them are disappointed, some are discontented, and some are confused. Some of them are even chained to their own sins and misfortunes. They refuse to go further.”
“I want to go further, my beautiful Beatrice!” I jested, and my lovely companion smiled warmly. We exchanged a look of mutual understanding. Suddenly Jolith pricked up her ears. She grabbed my arm and pulled me away from where we were standing. The fog grew dense and rolled itself around us like a thick, gray spiral.
“You are free from the silver cord! We can go on now!” exclaimed the Angel. “Well, that was quick!” I pointed out, “Those were three fast days and nights!” I had learned that the cord is broken after three days and nights. How could this be?
“Time doesn’t exist here,” Jolith objected. “On the other hand, three days and three nights passed on Earth. Do you understand? I have been given the signal to proceed. The poor shadows here do not want to listen to their Guardian Angels. They prefer to wander about, homeless, as vague shapes until they understand that they have free choice to evolve in a new world. Sometimes their longing takes them back to Earth. They cannot stay there, but they willingly wander about the outskirts of their old life perpetually.”
“Is that what we call ghosts?” I asked.
“Yes, they are the visible invisible people,” was the answer. “It is possible for them to influence people in the places they choose to appear, in dreams and suchlike. Sometimes love for their old environment gives them a positive force, but mostly this force is negative and limited because of the fear they meet there. Most living people are afraid of ghosts, you see. But now, Jan, let us proceed, if you don’t want to stay here among the shadows.”
Of course, I didn’t want to stay. Nevertheless it might have been fun to haunt some friends, my publisher for instance, and some other old friends. I could imagine them at my graveside, hats in hand. They were probably drinking a couple of schnapps at the funeral feast in my honor. But of course I was very curious to find out what was waiting “upstairs” or “further on” – whichever it was.
Jolith started to grow in the cloudy spiral. She took me in her arms and I rested there as on an eiderdown comforter. At the same time I felt as if I were in a mother’s womb – with labor pains. I was infinitely small and also very curious about the world outside. Then all became dark for a moment – or for an eternity. Is there any difference here, in this beingness?

2. My Happy Valley

Life was smiling at me when I awoke. What else other than life could guide me to such a lovely and idyllic spot? I wished I could laugh and dance around with my beautiful Angel, who again was small and dainty. She smiled and said, “Do it, Jan! Dance with me!”
We danced on a sunny flowerbed, where scent and music was one, where the air vibrated with sounds, enclosing us in a breathless embrace. We were as light as air itself, yet I felt my feet touching the dewy grass that was glittering below me. I felt my right arm around the Angel’s thin waist and my left hand held hers in a close grip that seemed almost physical. It was such a long time since I had been able to dance, and I enjoyed the lovely music from the invisible musicians and the pleasure of the boisterous dance.
“Now we must proceed,” Jolith commanded. “We just danced in the valley where your last life started. Look around you!”
I had totally forgotten to look where I was. I was entirely intoxicated by the dance, the music, and the fragrances, but now I could see high mountains close around us. They were moss-covered, and trees blossomed in splendid colors everywhere. The mountaintops were bare, but they were shining in a magical way. It was as if the mountains had halos. ‘The mountains of the saints,’ I thought with a smile. I saw a river that murmured and babbled in capricious curves, until it tumbled happily over a steep cliff-edge and became a magnificent waterfall. The plant life around it was highly colored and fresh. It was a sublime Earthly landscape.
“From here you decided to return to Earth and live your last life there,” said the Angel. “Between lives you were here, because you are a part of this valley. You are the grass, the flowers, and the trees. You are the silent, vigilant mountains and the water that runs in sweet streams until it throws itself into the creation of your next life. You always loved this place. Don’t you remember it?”
“Yes,” I answered, and I was amazed. “The memory of it is coming back to me! This is my happy valley where I can find my origin. How could I ever leave this paradise to go to hell on Earth?”
“You had to,” sighed my Guardian Angel. “You chose it in order to get exactly the experiences you gained on Earth. It was in fact on that condition that you will walk your future path.”
“Walk? Can I no longer decide for myself? I want to stay here. Who has the right to determine my path?”
“A long time ago you yourself chose to return to your origin and gather your experiences from many lives and many worlds. Your Inner Self makes your decisions, but the Great Spirit is guiding you. When we danced together it was the happy ratification of your new walk of life. Just feel how life is flowing inside you!”
“The dance of circulation.” I laughed, and rotated another turn with the pretty girl. “Are we going to stay here or do we go on?”
“We stayed here for a moment of eternity,” she answered. “Now you will meet one of the Counselors who will keep you company for a very long time.”
She floated towards one of the high mountains. I followed her – perhaps a little reluctantly. The more I saw and heard, the more I wanted to know about this place. Why such a hurry? I wanted to know about my last stay here. How did I look? How did I think? Did I really choose to go back to Earth to be a poor farm boy in a tied cottage? Okay, perhaps it was good for me not to be born to a snob. I wonder how I would have coped with that? I laughed at the idea of me as a snob, and turned around to look at the adorable landscape.
Then I heard a man’s voice talking to me, “Well, Jan, you became a cultural snob anyway!” Again I turned around in surprise. There was a tall man in a yellow cloak in front of me. His hair was snow-white but his face was young. He had a sharp profile. His features seemed to be chiseled by a Greek artist and his deep-blue eyes were full of life. He looked inquiringly at me with a nice, friendly smile. I instinctively felt that he was a humorous man.
“It’s time for you to be confronted with yourself,” he continued. “What you have been and what you are will together form what you become.”
“Oh yes!” I exclaimed, “the Akashic Records! This is where all one’s mistakes and silly ventures are revealed, isn’t it? May I ask who you are?”
“My name is Zar,” he answered, and his eyes glittered. “Silly things are not the only things you did, my friend. I will be your leader and teacher as long as you need me. The Akashic Records” (see the Cosmic Map on page 3) “is a kind of intermediate stage between two worlds. Everybody must experience it. Afterwards it is decided which world you belong to – so please, let’s get it done!”
The walls of the mountain we had reached rose almost perpendicularly up to the sky – whatever sky it might be, I thought. I still remember the lovely sunset over the mountains and the forest of my childhood. This was yet more beautiful. The sky above the mountain turned red and then became the most marvelous rose color, with golden hues. The man at my side touched the mountain with a staff. The mountain wall started to shake, and raised itself like a theatre curtain. There was a room behind it, furnished with comfortable chairs. In front of them was an enormous movie screen, which went from wall to wall. The room was dimly lit. We sat down, all three of us, with me in the middle. Between the screen and us was a little podium with a lighted floor. Sweet music came from somewhere.

The Akashic Records

“Are you ready?” asked Zar. “Be prepared for meetings of both good and bad. The principal figure here is Truth – the Truth that has followed you through thousands of years.”
“The Truth about the country bumpkin Jan,” I laughed. “Come along, I know for sure what a rogue and rascal I have been.”
Zar looked at me in a strange way. “Well, we know that you liked that rogue and rascal,” he said. “To love oneself is very important for a creative person. You became a beloved author, and do you know why? Soon we will learn if Jan the human is a reflection of the author Jan – or the opposite. We will know what you repent of and what you will forgive in yourself.”
I was just about to give him a sharp retort of what I most repented of, when suddenly the movie screen darkened. There was lightning and thunder, and it rained in the room inside the mountain, but we remained dry. We were sitting dry-shod in a terrible storm. Flashes lit the moist mountain walls, and their granular surface looked as if it was sprinkled with diamonds.
“Raise your consciousness!” Zar ordered, and put his hand over mine.
Suddenly I felt how my Earthly thoughts disappeared and my whole inner Self experienced a euphoric feeling of light and radiant colors. Tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks. The storm and rain ceased and I saw the woods and meadows of my childhood on the screen. I saw my own birth and my father standing at my mother’s side. He was chewing his mustache because he was both proud and terrified. He was proud to have another son, but afraid that my mother would be weakened. It all went well. I saw myself grow up, my life as a man with my own family – wife, son, and daughter. I cried, feeling ashamed and happy and also proud of all the good things life had given me. I was appalled at the dark sides and happy to have passed them in a tolerable way.
“What a life!” I exclaimed between laughter and weeping. “Is it possible to forgive such folly? Can you forget such injuries? Can you proceed, borne down by such a burden?”
“You have a strong back, Jan!” answered Zar. “Now take your chance to say hello to your parents, because the meeting will be very short.”
There they were: my father and mother and my beloved little sister. They were as transparent as I was, but when we hugged each other their bodies seemed warm and substantial.
I thought we were talking the way we used to. Suddenly I understood something. Nobody was moving their mouths – neither Zar, the Angel, father, mother, nor my darling sister. Was I? I was talking eagerly and put my finger against my lips. My lips weren’t moving. This was a shock! When I looked at their faces I suddenly realized they had discovered the same strange thing. At first I felt like a ventriloquist, but when my father laughed his boisterous laugh noiselessly, I understood that this new body didn’t work like the old, worn-out one.
I was still thinking about this when my relatives disappeared. Other faces, from my last life on Earth, showed themselves to me from the podium. Some of them were more well-known than others, as they appeared before me. Some of them screamed angrily at me and I was happy that they couldn’t move their mouths. Wrongs and injustices, battles and insolence passed by. Dear old friends came forward to shake hands. It all ended with the darkening of the movie screen.
“Now we will return to your former incarnations!” It was Zar talking. “What fun to see if you have developed over those thousands of years.” Now began a terrible and thrilling story.
I was a monk in the fourteenth century and a nobleman with a powdered wig in a Swedish castle in the eighteenth century. I had been a fisherman in Greece, where I met Death in an angry sea. I had been a Roman nobleman in the time of Jesus and also a poor soldier in Finland. Each life that was shown to me brought back my memory. I felt characterized by every one of these lives, but underneath the expressions of all of these lives I knew that I was me. The changes were superficial, but the inner Johan Fridolf Johansson From, alias Jan Fridegård, remained the whole time under the surface, seeking and groping, longing for something and full of a passion for justice. If I was a hunter, I was hunting injustice and duplicity. If I was a nobleman, I hunted ladies. All the time Jan was there, but I had a thousand faces.
I sailed on the sea of life and I had never suspected how thrilling it would be. My subconscious mind brought images of sweat and tears, but also of strength and courage in my last life on Earth. I decided to stay where I was. I had done my share on Earth. I had seen everything, experienced everything. If I chose to return to Earth, my life would only be a repetition – a bloated duck on a melancholy lake. Oh no, up here it was much more exciting.
“You want to stay here, Jan? And not go back to your dark green woods and your life as an author in the big, bright city?” Zar looked at me in an amusing way and added, “Look here! This is a picture of Stockholm today. Imagine how it would be to live there!”
I looked in tense expectation and hoped that my favorite restaurants would appear. Perhaps I might happily stroll through the Old Town. I would have welcomed any images of my lovely, old city. But what did I see? I was frightened and disappointed, and I literally felt my hair stand on end.
Chaos! Violence, stress, the rushing about, rough-mannered fellows, and even young girls who snatched handbags from old ladies and kicked them. I saw children hit children, children who were not children any longer. I saw pictures of drugs, alcohol, assaults, cruelty. Covetous, greedy-for-power people. Strange strangers, alienation – a city that was far removed from my memory of the old, friendly, and warm atmosphere. Trouble everywhere. I hid my face in my hands. I didn’t want to see any more. I never again wanted to return to that.
“Don’t criticize!” Zar warned. “The cities are what time has made them. Nobody will force you to enter that future. You still have your free will.”
I don’t know how long I remained in the mountain room with the big screen and holograms. Whatever I saw happened in a three-dimensional reality mixed with unreality. Time doesn’t exist here, and when we were finished we left as easily as if this performance had only lasted an hour. Zar asked me if I repented of anything from my lives.
“How could I?” I answered. “It was all a question of development. I learned something all the time. Yet I didn’t learn everything and I want to know more!”
“That’s a good answer,” my teacher said with a warm smile. “Now you can proceed if you like.”
“Does every person who dies come here and look at his or her Akashic Record?” I asked.
“Of course,” Zar answered. “We have this kind of review-room in many places. Some people are really shocked, because their memories return with every life they look at. It can be difficult for them to relive old unprocessed experiences. You did well because you understand yourself, just as you have analyzed Jan in every book you have written. There are many roads to walk after the Record. If you want to go further, please follow me.”

3. Creation

With a sigh of relief I left the mountain room with Zar. We walked along a long, illuminated passage. I don’t know how long we walked side by side, talking about interesting things, but suddenly the passage ended. We entered into a light that blinded us, and at first I couldn’t see anything. I shaded my eyes with my arm and discovered a person right in front of us. It was impossible to see if it was a man or a woman, but the being was radiant. I fell on my knees, I felt such veneration. Maybe it was an Archangel?
The being lifted me up in a friendly way and I guessed it was a woman. She had long light-red hair, very dark eyes, and expressed warmth and friendliness.
“Welcome to us, Jan!” she smiled. “I am not an Archangel but I am an Angel, and your teacher. My name is Shala, and Zar and I will teach you the ancient wisdom and show you who you are and where you have come from. On Earth your thirst for knowledge was already great, and it brought you to us and to the Angels’ School.”
This lovely creature was thus a woman, and also my teacher. I longed for these lessons. But where was the school?
“Here!” answered Zar, who obviously read my thoughts. He made a circular gesture. “You have just passed a tunnel that leads to the Angelic Realm. From here you are going to experience your origin.”
The blinding light had faded and I looked around. Again I was in a kind of theatre with three walls. The fourth wall was open and I caught a glimpse of a beautiful garden outside. Pictures started to appear on the empty walls. Human images floated in and out of the walls. These images showed people dressed in very old-fashioned clothes and they reminded me of Native Americans. At first I thought the whole scene was a confused fluttering of beings with and without faces. Yet I observed a certain rhythm. Suddenly it all became dark.
“You saw the first humans on their way to Earth,” Shala explained. “The original inhabitants came from another planet. The knowledge they taught is still kept in secret custody inside Earth, but so far it has been too early to unveil it to humanity. At the beginning of the twenty-first century Truth will be necessary for people, and someone or something has to tell them about it before the whole Earth explodes because of human imprudence.”
“I can imagine that.” I felt very gloomy at the thought. “When I died at the end of the 1960s the pollution had already begun. Both the inner and the outer pollution. Can you do something about it? Do you want the destruction of Earth?”
“Of course not,” the confident voice of Zar answered. “We work under high pressure to inform humanity of this, and many people have really started to listen. You belong to the ones who will be taught to have contact with an Earth-dweller who can send this message forward. You will have a lot to learn for this mission, and must go through tests and initiations.”
“I don’t know if I’m good enough for that,” I muttered. “Me having contact with someone on Earth? I would like to be spared that!”
“You are going to inspire a woman on Earth, and with her medial mind and yours, she will be able to write books about the eternal Truth,” explained Shala.
“Oh dear, do I have a good publisher waiting for me, too?” I joked.
“We will try to arrange that.” Zar smiled. “So, my dear Jan, you will remain an author even here. Would you like that?”
“It’s okay,” I said mockingly. “If the lady in question is quick on the uptake, if she can behave and appreciate my advice, she will do. But tell me, will I see more of the first people on Earth?”
“In time,” Zar answered. “But first you will experience something else. You, yourself, will take part at the birth of Earth! You are as old as we are – billions of years. Let our consciousness be born together on a journey on Angels’ wings. Let our souls wake up in the sea of Eternity, at the feet of the Great Spirit you call God. You will experience what few human souls have ever seen. Jolith will take us to the goal on her great wings. She has the gift to appear in many forms, and we call upon her – Now!”
Sometimes I have silly thoughts, but I couldn’t resist thinking that this was much better than the spiritual seances I attended on Earth. I had scarcely finished thinking this when my Guardian Angel appeared, in a giant woman’s body. She lifted me and rolled me in one of her wings. Both my teachers were already on the other wing. I had another macabre thought: the dead man having an adventure, when we swept right through the wall and into a kind of pulsating corridor. Where were we going?
The answer came more swiftly than expected. A door in the corridor opened and Jolith flew out … out into the cosmos. Everything was air, a midnight-blue, clear, and lovely air. There was no light, not the slightest ray of light, yet I could see and feel. I was sitting on a soft white feather of Jolith’s wing and suddenly the wing unfolded and Shala crept up to me, holding a mirror before my eyes. I saw absolutely nothing in that mirror. At first I was terrified. Don’t I have a face any longer? I was just going to ask that when I recalled the handsome young soldier Jan who flirted with the girls on the open-air dance floor. Again it was a silly thought and it vanished.
Then I heard a voice whisper in my ear, “Jan, you are a grain of dust in our Universe! A grain of dust has no thoughts, but you will have the privilege to understand and remember what your teachers tell you. Now look around in your new consciousness!”
Someone pushed me, and I slid down the wing as if on some chute. I blew around in a whirling reality that was the cosmos, like the evening sky seen from our porch at home on a night without moon and stars. Of course I didn’t think that, because I was only a newborn consciousness in a grain of dust on a dark blue night, without planets or stars. But the Power of Love was in the making, and there were other Universes, already finished. The grain of dust that I was knew nothing of this, but the dancing wind brought voices that sang the song of Creation, which I couldn’t hear or understand.
Then the Light came, and in it the Power of Love. The Eternal Spirit that rules our Universe had divided its power, so that it flowed through the indigo-colored darkness. I was pulled into the Light and grew inside this living, creative, inspiring glare to an Energy, a ray with a glimpse of a greater consciousness. And yet I was still a very young Energy.
The radiating Power of Love had come to stay in our Universe. A small breath from its glowing center was transformed to a tone – and Sound was born. The Power of Love divided itself and became dual, male and female, yin and yang. Small Particles were thrown out of the Light into space, with magnificent swiftness and strength. Throughout eons of different kinds of development, they eventually formed stars and planets in our galaxy.

At First Came the Invisible Worlds

The loving breath from this magnificent Spirit started the Creation. At first the Invisible Worlds were created. The visible, physical celestial bodies are all very young. I was even younger than them when I took a rest in my own energy stream while the Highest Consciousness was involved in the process of creation. I was still in this light when a strange spectacle unfolded itself in my dreaming consciousness.
The Invisible Worlds were populated first. I was an energy-form that observed this unique act of creation. The dual characters of the Divine Spirit were shown as vague contours in the light. I was also an energy-form and because of that, I could approach them. Then I perceived a thought that permeated their radiance. It was a beautiful thought that expressed a longing to populate the innermost light-world with the same wonderful beauty that the Greatest Spirit himself had brought to his Universe. This divine beauty was to be reflected in all that was created!
At first the Seraphim were created in the innermost vicinity of the Divine. (See the Cosmic Map!) The tone that sounded in the cosmos formed the most lovely creatures with its resonance. These creatures became the servants of music, those who rule the world of tones. It was a form of mutual beingness, an origin of sound that eventually created the music of the spheres. The Seraphim were slender and transparent. Their fair hair floated around as a glittering light in an air that had not yet any sun, wind, or rain. They were the souls of a sacred music, and their whole existence was all about expressing the countless faces of Love in tones.
After that I saw the Angelic Realm grow before my startled “eyes” that were not yet eyes, just feelings. Now I wanted to be born, and I tried to tell that to the Wholeness by shaking and fidgeting. I was weary fluttering about on energy-waves without a body, without being able to communicate. I longed to be created – but it wasn’t yet time for the energy-waves.
The Angels were divided in different Realms. There were seven Elohim and seven Archangels. To begin with, the Elohim were chosen to rule over all the planets and stars in the galaxy. The Archangels represented law and order in the Angelic Realm. There are thousands of different kinds of Angels, and they must be strictly organized. The Cherubim were the lightweights of Joy. They were – and are – messengers between the stars. I saw them emerge and develop into small rosy and joyful beings, always willing to share their positive gifts with others. I remained for a long time in the light of the Angelic paradise and I didn’t know what I wanted, because I had no unique soul. I was just a part of the Oneness of Light.

The Fall of Lucifer

There was a disturbance in all this light energy. I felt it as a cold draught in the middle of my love-energy. My teachers talked to me with voices that were thoughts that were perceived, apprehended in the sea of light. We existed in an eternal beingness until the winds of change came riding, when the centuries became centuries and the moment for the birth of physical creation was near. Something happened among the Angels.