I Remember Isha

[lorae]

THE ROMAN REPORT-WRITER

In Rome, there had been some curiosity concerning the teaching of this strange new Jewish rabbi, and young Lucius Amatius,⁹ a pompous, twenty-two-year-old Roman official from a ruling family of an island province, had been dispatched to make a thorough report. He imposed himself upon us as the official representative of the authorities. Foppishly dressed and fastidious in manner, he regarded us much as an anthropologist would an African tribe, kindly, but condescendingly.

When the men came to listen at night, he dominated the gathering and, rather than listen to the precious words of the Master, he actually wasted hours and hours arguing with the Christed One!

No one could tell him to be quiet because he could have us all killed with a word. He did not mean to be so boorish, but he was so very young and so wanted to get his precious report exactly right. I think he even tried the patience of the Master.

Lucius fastidiously requested a special bench, and from that throne he demanded special foods, often sending them back to be redone to his most particular standard. He was obsessed with personal cleanliness and dress, constantly rearranging his short skirt and the stance of his legs.

I was fascinated with his exotic ways, and as the four-year-old spoiled darling of the household, I became his tormentor. Following him about, I chewed and slobbered while constantly staring at him as only an irritating child could do. No one stopped me …

He wanted to question the Christ about sexual and bodily functions (important to a young single man!). But Little Miss Big Ears was always present, listening and staring. He was very frustrated, and wanted to smack me as I continued to slobber and stare.

 Isha was aware of this situation, but did nothing. Lucius, I’m sure, wondered why no one disciplined this disgusting little girl, and why she wasn’t with her mother.

One night, he carried on and on, as usual. Finally, in desperation to shut him up, I lifted his skirt with a stick to see what he was wearing underneath. It was really mean of me to embarrass him so, but there seemed to be no other way of silencing him.

9. I met him again in this life, only he was a woman this time around. She was a gifted psychic and remembered that time very well: That I, at that time, was completely spoiled by everyone and could do no wrong, also confirming my impressions of Mary Magdalene - she put it this way, that Mary M., from her behavior, appeared to be almost retarded. The woman was still finicky and humorless, clinging to her precious allergies for dear life in order to control others as to the food she was offered. Her face was the same, along with the lean body.

[lorae]

to be continued.

[lorae]

Water

Out of season, a steady warm rain was falling. In the misty evening, Isha began:

“Water. Water and light.
The very raindrops are wonders of color, energy and light. A gift.
Like all our Father’s gifts, they fall equally upon all. There is no judgment, no good, no bad. ALL ARE. And by being, all exists in love, because love is the very  source of creation. Through the medium of water and light, the Father reminds us of His presence through the rainbow and the sunset, glorious depictions of His ever-present love.

"Love your Heavenly Father, the Creator of All, and you, His Children. Let your soul feel His Love, flooding your being with liquid energy and all the colors of the rainbow. The rainbow that appears so unexpectedly and magically in the mountain mists is a reminder to you of your relationship to God. It is a bridge to Heaven, the glorious colors lifting your consciousness to Him.

“Water is but a step down from quartz, and is liquid light.⁹
Light is of the Father, and water imbues this world with His Creativity and Love, existing in all life, crystals, ice, oceans, the clouds, the lakes and streams.

“All life on this world exists in a form of water, because water is of the essence of the Father, the essence of His pure love and creativity. Water contains all knowledge, and, when locked in its infinite crystalline form, holds that knowledge.¹⁰

“Drink the pure, sparkling waters of a high mountain spring. At such times, know that Mother Earth is speaking to you, imparting wisdom, which can be consciously accessed, merely by desire, imagination and faith.  From the depths of the Earth this water comes, imbued with this World and its history, its present and its future.¹¹ Drink. Drink in a state of reverent purity—and know God. Listen to the small birds who gather at such a spring. Your Elder Brothers do speak to you and guide you so.

“Look at the still clear water of a pool from such a spring. Such wonders, such wisdom, so transparent, so beautiful, as are our true selves, beings of glorious, pure light. Know yourself. Look into the deep wonders of such a pool and know that you are viewing yourself, a being of light and song.

“The oceans. Oh, the oceans. How can I speak of the oceans, oh, my brothers, how can I speak of all creation? It is upon the vast reaches of these wonders that the winds of time interact with Earth through the mediation of water, expressing the activity of the Father. All who have been upon these waters can attest to the life and emotion sensed there. The seas most directly express the great power and creativity of the interaction between our Heavenly Mother and Father.”

Isha taught methods of reaching the state of true communion with God, or opening the door to the Christ. He said that the first major step was the very desire to accomplish this; then to pray and meditate in a state of child-like simplicity combined with the physical efforts of fasting and drinking the pure blessed water, described below.

Isha usually spoke until dawn, and the men left in the first light of morning. Isha did not need much sleep, but we let Him have undisturbed rest. I also needed little sleep. I was a hyperactive child, but when Isha spoke, I became attentive and listened carefully. He knew that I was recording His words in my little brain. I, of course, unconditionally agreed with everything he said because I had not cluttered my consciousness with adult ideas.¹²

9. The six-sided snowflake is infinite in its manifestation. Quartz is hexagonal, also, and the Master spoke of the relationship of water, quartz and light.

10. The crystalline form [ice] is so varied because knowledge is infinite. This form can compress information and preserve it for tens of thousands of years.

11. The underground wonders of water and crystal that have been recently explored in New Mexico are repositories of sacred knowledge. (Consider the effects of drinking melted icebergs...)

12. I never heard Him speak to the enormous crowds who later came to hear Him. I didn’t go outside the home much, and, certainly wasn’t allowed to traipse about the countryside. However, in later lives, I believe that I was a theologian in the church, and bitterly fought to keep the truths as Isha spoke them in the Bible. For instance: “As I do, ye shall do also.”; “Why callest me good?”; and “Ye are gods.”—because many later tried to subvert the faith to create fear and shame. We all know that the history of the church is not all a story of pure faith and love, but, unfortunately in many cases, the usual brutal lust for power.

[lorae]

Water for Purification and Spiritual Enlightenment

The mornings were Isha’s time for reflection and to be with His family. Upon arising in mid-morning, He always drank some pure fresh water that had been exposed to the first rays of the rising sun and charged with prayer by His Mother.¹³ This purified Him, giving Him protection and power. He then went to bathe and meditate. He and His Mother taught me to listen to the birds and to feel the love of the trees. He began the day with a meditation while listening to the birds sing to Him.

The house was situated near a pure spring. Isha taught that a house should never be too close to the source of drinking water, because the water, being receptive, would not be pristine, but would take on the thoughts and words of the people living in the house.

Much of His private teaching concerned purification, that is, methods of clearing a space in the consciousness for the entry of the Christ and adjusting the molecules of the body for this higher vibration. He taught a simple and effective procedure for all people, and this was to fast with prayer, asking for clarity while drinking very pure blessed (in the rays of the rising sun) water, then to meditate in silence. Wait. Wait and listen in childlike simplicity and faith. The Christ will come.

Isha emphasized that drinking this blessed water was absolutely necessary for spiritual growth.

This procedure was to be done daily, if possible, fasting through the morning, meditating and drinking this sun-treated and sun-charged pure clear water. Weekly, one day for fasting and meditation in a nature spot was a wonderful refreshment for our hungry souls.

He taught that fasting was to be undertaken with an attitude of enjoyment, to be done only if you felt it was good for you and if you liked the feeling of your mind and body after a fast.  It was never to be done with an attitude of penance or punishment, because anything conducted in a negative mind-state would not produce a positive result.


13. I believe that when Isha told the woman that he had water to drink that she knew not of, He was speaking of this charged water. Also, John 4:14 mentions this water. See "Dawn Water" at http://unveiling.18.forumer.com/index.php?showtopic=28
Incidentally, He did not teach the ceremony of Communion, which is drinking the blood of the sacrifice (because He never taught that He would be a sacrifice).This practice, which is ritual cannibalism, preceded Christianity and was thoroughly pagan.

[lorae]

ANDREW, PETER, MATTHEW AND JOHN

I remember Andrew as a big-hearted, loud, rather crude man with unruly light-brown hair. He always burst through the door with much noise and enthusiasm. Larger than most men, he had an athlete’s muscular build and was known for his quick temper. He was equally as quick with his fists. Nonetheless, he was practical and could fix or take care of most things. Andrew was especially helpful to the Master in managing the unruly crowds who followed Him about the countryside.

Thousands of people came to listen to Isha and be healed. He could speak to such numbers. Isha didn’t need a microphone! He could be really loud. That big redhead wasn’t meek and quiet at all. Some, especially the priesthood, would have characterized Him as obnoxious.

Pushing and shoving, the impatient people would shout, “Master, heal me, heal me!” Instantly intimidating, Andrew would slowly and deliberately walk through the rude crowd, subduing them as he went. Striding through the nervous people, his no-nonsense attitude and imposing air caused a wake of calm to settle in the area behind him, and soon the whole audience would be sitting quietly in a state of calm expectancy.

At home, Andrew carried me about on one shoulder out in the garden, teaching me about animals, plants and birds. We made up stories together about friend cockroach, Grandfather Snake and sister spider.

His brother Peter was smaller, finer-boned, modest, dark and quiet. (Many present-day pictures of Christ look like Peter.) He was the younger of the two and not at all aggressive. Andrew was aggressive enough for both of them! They were country folk—entirely honest, simple, direct and refreshing. The two brothers came from a small town near the sea and often returned home to their business and families.

My friend Matthew was a short, large-boned active young man. He had deep friendly brown eyes framed by thick long and curly eyelashes. Immaculately cut short, his thick, curly brown-black hair and beard framed a handsome head.

Carried on a muscular neck, an almost oriental flat face was marred by slightly pock-marked skin. A full, broad mouth matched strong, wide cheekbones. His open and charming features, quiet, gentle ways and aura of quick competence and solid self-confidence gave him many friends. Coming from a family of merchants, he dressed well and expressed beautiful manners. While in conversation, he listened carefully, then communicated that understanding back to the one speaking to him with a well-spoken, precise energy.

I looked forward to his arrival because he sometimes brought small gifts which were presented with an affectionate pat on the head. Once he gave me a tiny cheap homemade piece of jewelry for one of my frogs to wear. Together, we made up silly rhyming ditties about my tiny crawly friends, whom I didn’t always leave out in the garden.

John was a tall, quiet man with a deep blue aura and dark blue eyes. He wrote much and owned many scrolls, living the life of the mind, of concepts and symbols. He did not carry me, but led me by the hand. We often sat at the little reflecting pond where he taught me true concentration. He knew of the stars and planets, mathematics, philosophy, music and poetry. From him, I began to learn the map of the night sky and its messages for us. We sat by the pool, listening to the heavens sing as the water held the music for us.

[lorae]

Nahal David at Engedi

THE VISIT TO THE ESSENES

When I was eight years old, Isha, Lazarus, Judi, the learned lady from Egypt, and I left to visit the Essene community on the Dead Sea. As was the case most of the time, I was the only child in the group. I had new leather sandals, and was proud of my strong legs and brown feet. I knew that we had far to go and that this journey was important, so I tried to act grown-up.

We started in very early morning while it was still dark, slipping away from the town quietly. We walked quickly while leading two donkeys wearing pads on their feet to keep them silent and laden with supplies for the Institute.

The morning stars were brilliantly watching as the friends and guides they were. For several hours we stayed on the regular road, proceeding southeast and leaving the town far behind as we started climbing up into the foothills.

We turned off the road before dawn when it was getting light enough to see a little. Following no path, we climbed single-file to the right up a rocky slope covered with scratchy bushes here and there. In places, the steepness forced the donkeys to lunge and scramble. After picking our way along a ridge, down and up and along another ridge, we stopped at a saddle where Isha and Lazarus took the pads off the donkeys’ feet since the terrain was getting very rough. The animals’ intelligent eyes looked relieved. The pads had been left on until then to hide our tracks where we left the main road because it was prudent not to let anyone know where the Essene settlement was or even that it existed.

Later, from a high pass, we stopped to welcome the dawn in the wonderfully fresh wilderness air. As the sun rose, we faced the east. We drank water and sang a Praise of Joy to the World, our first words of the day. Miriam was very much present, but only in spirit. I hadn’t been aware until then how close She was to Her Son; She went everywhere with Him, sometimes in Her physical body, sometimes not, but always with Him. We walked on. I spied Grandfather Snake sunning himself, and, when I looked up, I saw great tall spirits, translucent against the blue sky. It was refreshing to be away from the world of men and their thoughts.

Midmorning, in a hidden glen of the high country where the water ran clean, we ate bread, grapes and cheese while the animals rested and grazed in the shade. They didn’t have to be tethered, but seemed to enjoy their place in the world and the service they gave that day. This was in the early fall of the year when the air was dry and clear. I saw small red berries on bushes beside the spring and could hear many birds chittering happily out of sight. We continued, and in the heat of the day we stopped for a nap.

We walked through the evening and much of the night. As we moved along, I ate almonds and loquats and drank water and kefir. It wasn’t tiring because we hiked comfortably, yet moving quickly. We slept a few hours in the dead of night. Traveling with Isha was amazing: As a little girl, I should have got tired, or at least had difficulty keeping up, but we seemed to stride right along, not hurrying, but nevertheless moving rapidly and effortlessly. I think I went into a trance because it’s difficult for me to recall the details of our trip. We must have had to go fifty miles over rough country with no trail, yet it was pleasant traveling with these very special people.

Dawn saw us overlooking the Dead Sea to the southeast from a high place. When we paused, I smelled saltwater in the fresh morning wind and heard the birds welcoming the glorious day. We followed the cliff to the north for an hour or more, then stopped for a morning snack in the sunshine. Starting up again, Isha led us to the cliff edge, seemingly to take us over the brink, but we slowly began picking our way down through a steep, brushy and rock-strewn ravine. Descending into the heat to wander about the rugged slopes between the cliffs and the sea, we moved north along the coastline.

For some hours we slowly continued along the dry, rocky and brushy slopes, finally climbing closer to the cliffs to round a headland. Blocked from the sun, the hillside became dangerously steeper  and the footing difficult and uncertain. Standing precariously on the steep rocky slope  tufted with short grasses, I could see the water far below us in the broken cliffs to our right. After we came around the point, the sun hit us with full force, but the slope flattened considerably and widened out to a rock-covered alluvial plain. We began crossing occasional sandy washes decorated with small tracks of night animals and lined with tall bushes and trees.

By late morning, when it was starting to get fairly hot, we turned left to head up toward a broken cliff and a break in the formation facing the southeast. The path or way-- there was no path--was broken, rocky and rough. We followed various game trails winding up through rocks as big as houses and around high desert brush full of birds and buzzing insects welcoming us in the heat.

Hidden amongst the enormous boulders and brush against and within the cliffs, the buildings of the settlement were not visible, but I saw people in white robes seeming to float gracefully toward us. Not running, but moving quickly, they were the brothers and sisters of the Institute coming to welcome Isha and His companions. When they got close, I was fascinated by their extraordinary physical beauty and healthful vitality.

Delightedly, they led the donkeys, who, sensing the end of their discomfort approaching, trotted briskly along with ears up. Although no words were spoken, much was communicated. One large young man with a dark, well-trimmed goatee lifted me and exuberantly whirled me around as if he were my long-lost brother and I his little sister. Living necessarily incognito with the Essenes, he might have been, indeed, my half-brother from an earlier marriage of my father, for my father was quite old. My mother only seemed old and sedate, but was actually much younger, living only for him.

We made our way toward the buildings set back into the bluff. As I discovered later, they were actually the facades for huge, cave-like rooms back inside the rock. Thick rounded walls of adobe glowed white in the sun, contrasting with the cool gray-purple shade. Hidden in a cleft in the escarpment, the entrance was barely visible. The main rooms of the Institute were built into the bluff to the left of the entryway.¹³

As we got closer, I saw a storage room and other rooms to the right of this narrow atrium. We entered, walking on cool tiles, feeling a welcome change from the heat and sun. This partly-shaded entrance was fragrant with flowering shrubs growing above a shallow pool of fresh, moving water. In the pool, we washed our feet, which were, as Isha would say, dusted liberally with Mother Earth. Two older women in white brought us kefir, fruit and honeycakes.

I lay on a striped wool cloak on a built-in stone bench near the pool. I heard water gurgling and a small bird singing softly to itself, and I felt secure and loved in this safe and peaceful place. Also, I sensed that there was a Grandfather Snake nearby, and that these people revered him for the great spiritual phenomenon that he was.

I awoke in mid-afternoon. No one was about, so I began exploring this interesting place. Hidden in the rocks, the gigantic stone buildings blended cleverly to the eye as part of the landscape. Although austere and stark, they were of pleasing proportions. I felt the quiet of the hillside exude an air of immense timeless security, as if the settlement were surrounded by an invisible protective barrier.

Behind the entrance, a small paved courtyard led to a narrow walkway going back into the cliff. At the end of the path, I came upon a cistern of water formed by rocks perfectly fit together, situated symmetrically against the rock wall. I saw a glint up behind it, and went up a gentle trail to discover a large reservoir beneath the dappled shade of some tall gnarly bushes. I became spellbound by the occasional swirl of this clear, deep pool and stared at it for a long while.

Waterfall at Engedi

After some time, I came to my senses and looked up to see part of yet another man-made dam with a difficult path leading to it. Climbing up that path, I continued on from pool to pool. The primitive trail followed the side of the twisting narrow watercourse between high shady rock walls. I made my way higher and higher as the pools became smaller. I sensed great age in this series of water-catchments that followed the old wadi up through the eroded rocks. I thought that in ancient times also, this settlement must have been a retreat and protected citadel for the study of sacred mysteries.

After an hour or more, I finally scrambled out on top of the cliff to stand at the edge of a dark-gray rock plateau. Infinite quiet reflected in the blue sky, and time seemed not to be. Off toward the sea, at the same altitude, a hawk sailed and shrieked to me. I left my body and flew with him. Through his eyes I could see the water in the distance shimmering in the afternoon heat. After spiraling with him for a few astonishing moments, I returned to the cliff edge. Deciding to go back before someone came looking for me, I carefully hiked back the way I had come, surprising some little lizards along the trail as I descended.

Back at the buildings, I wandered into the entrance where I’d napped on the wool cloak. It was still there, folded neatly at the corner of the stone bench. Above it, I noticed a few palms and other plants in giant pots and could hear water gurgling through a tile piping system that dripped water to them. A little gray-green frog clutched one of the big flat leaves. His little tummy shuddered in and out with fright as we stared at each other.

Past the frog and to the left, I went through an open doorway framed by ancient heavy wooden doors deeply carved in strange symbols. I found myself in a huge cave-like room, painted a light creamy-white with brightly colored geometric borders along the high ceiling. This room had no windows, but was lit all about from no discernible source as if the sun were shining in. Sitting at heavy cedar tables, the Brothers and Sisters in white were inscribing in wet clay, engraving on thin metal and writing on leather and papyrus.1 Much of the writing was in languages I had never seen, yet it somehow seemed so familiar that I felt that I had written it. Somehow I knew that there were ancient texts there of secret knowledge of the Egyptian Mystery Schools, Tibetan teachings and others.

Looking up from their work with encouraging smiles, the women were not at all annoyed by my inquisitiveness, but the young men were more serious and not so indulgent. They sat on large benches of the same style as the tables. Enormous cedar shelves lined the walls surrounding a tiled floor partly covered with fine carpets. It all seemed to be of a gigantic scale—too large for the tiny humans working there.

Exploring back behind this room, I found two corridors and many rooms of scrolls; some kept on the wall in niches, some sealed in pots to be kept underground in hidden places. Unexpectedly, I came into a room that looked exactly like the one at home for the night classes, even having the same two lamps and windows looking out onto a small pool and courtyard. I thought, “They [the Essenes] must have to learn, also, for this is a school for the higher truths, even as Isha teaches.”

When I came back to the main working area, the same substantial two older women who had served us when we arrived took me by each hand to bathe. In the bathing area, they lovingly splashed water over my body, then gently washed and dried me. From a very young age, I had always insisted upon being self-sufficient about caring for myself, and I was taken aback with such kind attention. Then they dressed me in a child-sized white linen gown like theirs.

I skipped and padded barefoot with them down a long dark hall with a shiny cool floor. Taking advantage of all that wonderful attention, I told them that I was hungry. Laughing, they took me to a small room and gave me some soft white cheese, fruit and bread. I drank sweet water from a huge goblet about eight inches high and four inches in diameter at the top. This goblet was made of translucent multi-colored glass decorated with iridescent half-knobs on the outside. I had never seen a drinking vessel like that before and wanted to drink from it again and again.

We went out to an open courtyard to the other brothers and sisters. Most of them were young people in their twenties, and they gave the Institute a fresh, eager energy. A few middle-aged people exuded authority and provided stability. All spoke in melodious voices and walked with serene, purposeful grace, smiling and blessing each other when they met. Some came up to me, bowing slightly with hands together at their hearts, bringing their foreheads to the tips of their fingers. Feeling important and somewhat saintly, I returned their salutations.

Isha was nowhere about. The brothers and sisters seemed to be making some preparations for an evening ceremony. The young men had some brightly colored objects which I had never seen, mirrors and round shiny metal balls about the size of a fist held in their hands. No one spoke. I felt an air of expectancy.

13. This Essene Institute near the sea is still there buried by a rock fall. When unearthed, it will be a fabulous library of information that may thoroughly upset many of our most cherished beliefs. In October of 1995, I went to Engedi on the Dead Sea and while there, felt very strongly that the location of the opening to these caves is in Nahal David, behind the Engedi Kibbutz, about 100 feet from the waterfall on the south side, about 12 feet above the present canyon floor.  The upper right-hand corner of the ancient wooden door is visible, about 24 feet up.

[lorae]

Isha returned at dusk. Silently He led me by the hand as we climbed with the others up outside adobe stairs between the buildings. As we came out to the sky upon a flat rooftop, I noticed that the brothers and sisters wore maroon/grape-colored robes, but Isha was in white. Several of the young men spoke into the shiny balls and fiddled with a contraption on spindly legs with mirrors and colored lights going on and off. A metallic light blue sky gradually turned dark as a few stars became visible. Apparently we were going to spend the night up on a rooftop, silently doing nothing at all. I had been allowed to participate in this kind of thing before, and knew that I was to wait quietly.

The moon was new and not to be seen, but the stars looked brilliant and close. Inconspicuously, I slowly turned my head about, finding and identifying the constellations and my friends, the various individual stars and planets.

Unexpectedly, an earsplitting shriek, much, much louder than that of the hawk, broke the quiet night. I jumped in shock. Then a screaming flash from out of nowhere turned to brilliant lights. Coming into sight above us, a large round craft slowly descended alongside our building to just above roof-level. As it hovered perfectly still and quiet in the desert air, I saw that it wasn’t round, but somewhat flattened, and had no obvious openings. Enormous energy pulsed in the air. I wasn’t frightened, but almost shaking, I tightly clutched Isha’s hand. He smiled at me and I relaxed.

Next to the craft, beings appeared to materialize from nowhere. They glowed with love and intelligence. I spontaneously ran to them. I knew them! They weren’t very solid, thick or big, not quite reaching my chin, and were of an almost translucent bluish tinge. Their large light blue almond-shaped eyes glowed like a cat’s. They caressed me with their gentle small hands as their delicate features lit up with the sweetest smiles.

Instantly, Isha and I were transported inside the ship. I lost the sensation of being in a body and felt as if I were floating in a big, empty grayish-whitish blue sphere. Coral pink glowed here and there around the edges. I could see outside the ship as if it were all transparent, below, around and above. I heard no sound and felt no sensation of movement. As the ship zoomed high above our beautiful world, I made out the great sea below, glowing in the night. The stars seemed so very bright, so individually distinct, large and close, and I gave them all my attention. We flew around the moon where I thought I saw empty settlements under clear domes. We did not see the crew of the ship again.

Then I went up to the stars, my loving friends. I was somehow projected—very fast. Up to a world where all is beautiful, where every building is as wonderful as the Taj Mahal. These buildings sing music in glowing pastel colors all through the day and night. In this city the buildings are all built for beauty. Some have reflecting sides with many facets, like giant crystals.

In this world, a planet of Sirius, all beings are highly evolved. I am an old bearded man, a professor emeritus of philosophy in this great university in the sky.

My long white hair and long beard are a mark of this distinction. I am old, in earth years maybe seven or eight hundred years. I teach philosophy in the city, which is a large university. My friend Hephastios Bon works in his laboratory which is in sight of my office, if you want to call it that. From that office I watch the spacecraft landing, reflected in the shiny sloped surface of building. The building looks like a large crystal, faceted in quartz-hexagonal fashion, lying flat on the ground, shaped like a fairly large spaceship with a sloped facet in my view that reflects the sky and the spacecraft. The craft come in, “sweerh, sweerh,” very quickly, little spots of energy in front of the clouds. We are situated near a busy spaceport.¹⁴

I have a purple-stoned ring on the first finger of my right hand and a yellow diamond on the middle finger of my left hand. My nails are long and glow with small jewels. I wear a long full purple robe with vertical rows of glowing stones. Around my neck hangs an elaborate long necklace of larger purple and white stones. All of these gems are used in my work.

Even though I am old, my skin is good and my bony body is energetic, like my mind, which is lively, decisive and humorous. I am tall, with a high forehead and rather large nose. My hands are strong and bony, with long fingers. I wear simple sturdy leather sandals on my ancient calloused feet, and my eyes are quite near-sighted. It all seems perfectly normal and everyday. (We looked like Earth humans now. I can’t explain how my consciousness changed to that of this ancient person living on a star. At the time, it seemed perfectly normal, and I was truly he, and had no awareness of the little girl Nasha.)

I have a large clear crystal sphere resting on a small stand near me in a corner of my office, near the door across from the window. It’s about eighteen inches in diameter. I look into it to see all things, that is, anything in the universe at any time, because there is no time. I can control the visions and experiences that I perceive by thinking precisely. (Like changing channels on a TV today.)

I am Ishram’er or Ishramel, depending upon my function at the moment. The latter is my title. When discussing the use of the crystals and electronics with my learned friend Master Bon of the laboratory near my building, he wants to inform me in tedious detail how it is that these gadgets function. I say, “Please, I simply want to know how to use them. I don’t care why or how they are as they are!” And he, exasperated, tells me that I could do so much more with them if I would only listen! We have many such animated conversations. He is not interested in what I consider the core of knowledge, my specialty. One really needs to have a coherent philosophy of being, else why be? I find his toys (technical electronic apparatus) useful, but not fascinating.

I have hundreds of students, and spend much of my time with a select group of graduate students, both male and female, whom I abuse with glee. They are with me almost constantly. Some live with me for short periods in my villa on the hills or in my apartment at the university, but no one stays for long because I exhaust them with the constant barrage of ideas.

My students and I give numerous extravagant parties at my villa on a hill outside the city. I love water, and have many pools surrounded by flowering shrubs and flowers: hot mineral soaking pools, cool exercise pools, pools for fish and plants, bird pools and water falls, reflecting pools and pools just for the fun of it. The weather on this planet is always fine and warm. In the hundreds of years I have lived in this place, I have designed paths winding about the hillside near the buildings. They lead to serene resting places with a wonderful view of the nearby sea and some surprising illuminations. Exotic birds inhabit this jungle, some of whom love to play mischievous tricks on unsuspecting guests. One lively blue fellow with black and white wings enjoys swooping down out of nowhere to snatch things. He has a special taste for nice jewelry. The rest of the day is spent coaxing him to give it back.

Along the paths, foreign pet animals of all sorts suddenly appear and disappear from sight. My favorite is a large black jaguar-like fellow who is top honcho amongst the pets. He is even allowed (because he insists) to come to my office-apartment in the city. He loves to frighten visitors with a hiss and growl and is sometimes guilty of suddenly scratching the impertinent ones who try to pet that glaring head. He never actually hurts anyone, but he certainly upsets them. He sleeps with me at all times, but has the annoying habit of bringing hapless small animals in through the large always open window of my sleeping room in the villa. We have an agreement about my birds, which is that he can look and think all he likes, but is to leave them alone. He doesn’t really agree, but just to please me, is never overtly seen destroying them. His favorite resting place in my office is beneath my crystal globe. He feels that he needs to guard it and also loves to look into it with me to see. My friend Bon isn’t too fond of this cat, and they glare at each other when he comes over at the end of the day to chat and drink supa with me.

At our parties, everyone we know is welcome, and some we don’t know. We engage an army of cooks to prepare an abundance of food and drink, and various student groups of musicians vie with each other to play at these extravaganzas. We always plan a main entertainment. Once, a herd of elephant-like animals with no handlers or obvious control were made to come wandering in about the people, like curious neighbors trying to crash the party. They were intelligent and gentle, and one calmly took a bath in one of the large shallow pools.

Wonderful!

My big black cat doesn’t like all of these people cluttering up his territory, and goes into hiding, much to the relief of many of my friends.

We have long discussions at these get-togethers, which last for days. My students and I have a full observatory at this place, and using this facility, we project various spectacular objects into the viewing consciousness of our guests, looking at planets in other galaxies as if we were very close. Earth, the Jewel of the Universe, has a special fascination for all of us, and we watch events, people and animals within a landscape from up close Earth perspective, as if we are on or just above the surface of the planet. We can also experience back or ahead in time.

Although I am at my villa during these parties, I project myself near my large crystal sphere in my office and use it to tune in a certain matrix for my guests to experience. (Our version of watching a video, only this was real and live.)

I have no family at this time, but my students are my family. Any scholar who shows outstanding development is encouraged with all the pride and satisfaction of a proud father. My greatest happiness comes when a student passes me to race ahead of all of us.

I am in a university group with my dear Isha. I want to go with him to the Jewel of the Universe, the Earth, a project of special interest. I am chosen to do so! It gives my ancient heart great delight. With much flowing of robes and great excitement, I take off my sandals, jewels and stones to rush into a chamber to be sent.

 I know that I will emerge in a state of not knowing or remembering, for such are   the necessary conditions.

Then I experienced a period of blank. Not black, not frightening, simply nothing.

I felt my child’s limp body being carried by Isha. We were back on the rooftop. There seemed to be concern about my condition. I dropped back into unconsciousness, then woke up nauseated, groggy and dizzy. The Essenes gave me a drink, and Isha carried me down the outside adobe stairs. They put me in a quiet shady room where I slept for two days. When I awoke, I felt shaky, disoriented, wobbly and weak. It was two more days before we journeyed back. Judi did not return with us. Normally talkative, I now spoke to no one. My world had been forever changed, and I was a child no longer.

For months, my human self was confused by this knowledge of life on a star. It seemed like a dream. Maybe it was a dream—but life is a dream, a wonderful dream of enchanted learning. In future years, I put this experience in the back of my mind because it had no apparent relevance to my life. However, my father and grandpa gave me some rings similar to the ones I had as the Ancient.

Isha never later spoke about Sirius, and this journey was known of only by the members of the Essene Institute. My trip simply happened, and I tried to perform the service I was to give which was to go to this planet of Sirius, get information, and bring it back. Ishramer knew of the energies on the Earth and how those energies could be used to move through time and space. That information was somehow put into my mind to be extracted later by the Essenes.

14. This city is existent at this time, and its inhabitants are intensely interested in us, love us greatly, and are here to help us if we ask. We must ask, because they cannot interfere without our request.

[lorae]

THE WORDS WE SPEAK

Isha had traveled to the northern lands and, when He returned, didn’t teach for several weeks. Harvest was over and the stars shone brilliantly in the bitingly cool night air. The students wrapped warm wool cloaks about them as they listened.

First, know that the gift of language is Holy, a sacred ability given to us by our Father. Because such an ability comes from Him, our words carry mighty power, the power of creation. Your voice is a great instrument of power, a direct link from your mind and soul to the universe.

"Because you are Children of God, you also create worlds with your voice.
Be aware of who you are!

“The use of voice can create your world about you. Know your power!

"Call upon the Father to co-create with you, using His great wisdom and love. Many of the old masters used the voice to powerful effect. So may you also, as a co-creator with God. Greater miracles than of Moshe and Elihu will be yours.

“Think of the happiness we bring our Father when we call His Name and speak to Him. Compare this to the happiness a parent feels when the baby child first calls “Dada” or “Mama.” A recognition, a bond, happens at that time, and there is great exultation. Call to your Father, and know Him as your own, as He knows you as His child.

" Call to your Heavenly Mother, and recognize that She is here about you as the world that nurtures you. Call Them! Recognize Them, and create Joy!

"So also are there others, whom you know of as Elohim and Angels, the mighty heavenly host. Call Them! Recognize Them and bring great pleasure to Their hearts.

“With application and practice, even from the mindless repetition of a prayer or mantra, the bond will be strengthened between yourself and the heavenly beings. The time is coming when men and angels will sing as one. Many times, the angels sing with you now. Sing!

"Sing with the angelic choir, as they sing every day and moment of your lives, uplifting you to your very existence.

“Peace be with you, and Love Everlasting.”

A rabbi asked, “Are you saying that our speech creates in much the same way that the proclamations of Moses could affect the course of a battle or bring forth water from stone? I had always thought that such powers were reserved for Holy Men chosen by God.”

“You, every one of you, is chosen by God, your Father, 
and you are very precious to Him.”

[lorae]

THE ESSENE HEALERS

Situated outside the town, our house was accessible to travelers who would have been locked outside the city gates until morning. Many stopped to stay overnight, and Auntie Miriam made everyone welcome and comfortable no matter what hour of the night they gave the special two knocks, wait, one knock, then repeated, on the door.

Long-haired Essene Healers often stayed over. Handsome, charismatic and often of larger stature than most people, they radiated good health and positive vitality. I wasn't one to serve anyone, but I asked that these special guests let me wash and massage their feet. For their part, displaying the elegant manners of those who have practiced great discipline, they helped with household tasks, sweeping, cooking and working in the garden without giving the impression of rejecting hospitality. Always courteous and cheerful, they were impeccably clean, washing their white clothes and bathing every morning before meditation. Often staying for several days, these remarkable young men were intent pupils of Isha’s nightly talks and appeared to be memorizing His Words  that to write them down  after their return to the Essene Centers in the wilderness.

These Essenes traveled throughout the provinces of the area. They were famous healers, and, like Isha, attracted huge crowds. The ordinary people flocked after them to get help with abscessed teeth, arthritis, bad feet, infected eyes, strained muscles, skin sores, crippled hands and twisted backs—all the infirmities of the poor. These people were badly nourished, dirty, overworked, stressed and abused, and received the kindest attention from the Essene Masters.

Occasionally an urgent summons would come from a servant sent surreptitiously through the busy streets. Coming out into the countryside where the white-robed Essene Healer was working, the servant would quietly draw him aside: A wealthy man desperately needed help for his wife in childbirth or a blind child.

Before the closing of the city gates at nightfall, the Healer would follow the servant back to the sumptuous walled home, entering from the rough streets into a quiet world of ordered elegance and timeless good taste. After the treatment, the Master would be asked to stay the night, and, while partaking of food and drink with the grateful family, would be drawn into conversation. This led to questions which would bring out the role of Teacher. Often these homes became safe houses for the Essenes, and sometimes even the master or mistress became secret members of the order.

To avoid problems with the authorities, a Healer never stayed too long in any one place. The Essenes were harder to control than the desert wind; moving about the many countries or provinces of the area, these Masters would suddenly disappear into the desert wastes before their adversaries, the priests and the Roman authorities, had even become aware of their presence. Healing and teaching, self-sufficient and strong, by their abilities and service they gave much hope and encouragement to the suffering multitudes.

[lorae]

STUDIES WITH THE ESSENES

In early springtime it was time for me to go live and work with the Essenes. I was given a special short white frock to wear with my leather sandals and had a new wooden comb for my hair. In late morning Mary, Lazarus, Martha and John (Isha was gone) kissed and hugged me, I climbed on a donkey, and we left. A kinsman led the animal and another loaded with provisions. On the way, he did not speak much, other than to say things like “We stop here.” “Eat.” “Rest.” “We go now.” We arrived at the Institute in late afternoon of the third day.

The brothers and sisters benevolently welcomed me. The same two older women showed me where I would sleep and where to bathe. After my bath, it was time for the evening meal. Between listless bites of lentil soup, I looked at the long wavering shadows from oil lamps placed along the wall. I wasn’t enjoying this visit at all and felt empty and missed my home. Surrounded by darkness all around the enormous dining room, I felt overwhelmed, lonesome and homesick.

That night, and all the other nights, I slept with two other people in an austere moonlit chamber with a floor tiled in a white and dark contrasting geometric design. The high ceiling curved above thick walls of large rough, un-mortared rocks perfectly fitted together. Tall open windows formed a pointed arch almost at the roof. I slept on a low built-in sleeping platform of wood and porous brick along an adjacent wall to the right of the two huge windows. As I lay with wide-open eyes in this enormous room, I sensed an unearthly peacefulness and clarity, even grandeur in that place. My home with Isha and Miriam was cozy and small, and this magnificent room intimidated me. Even though I was ten years old, I would not have had the courage to sleep there alone.

We rose with the sun, a few minutes before the first rays came over the top of the bluff outside the east-facing windows. Still feeling disoriented, I hiked up the wadi as I had on my first visit, following the system of cisterns in the shadows. I saw birds and friendly small animals just like at home.

When I returned, Cook, a nice motherly woman, hugged me and gave me breakfast. While eating yogurt cheese, grains and fruit, I spied a large black cat peering around a corner at me. I jumped up to go to him, but he ran away. Cook helped me entice him close enough to pet. And, once petted, he immediately purred and rubbed his head against me. I knew I had found a friend. I held him and knew that he was as delighted as I to be together. I asked the sister for some goat’s milk.. Then I spent the day exploring with him. He showed me all his good places—where to take naps, where to hide, where to catch little tidbits to eat. He still loved to murder birds. I decided to spend my time thwarting his bird-hunting, but he knew what I was planning, and intended to disappear for that entertainment. During supper, he sat in a dark corner, watching me eat. In later days, he followed me everywhere and was always watching me from a hidden spot. At night he slept on my bed, crowding my feet.

Committed to the serious and important work of creating writings and translations, the Family, as the Essenes called themselves, were an elect group of disciplined scholars and mystics who had gone through years of training before coming out to this sanctuary on the Dead Sea. They had an ordered, comfortable rhythm to living; going to bed with the sun and getting up with it all year long, sleeping more in the winter and less in the summer. They ate unleavened bread, fresh sprouts, lentils and other grains, kefir, cheeses and fruits. The brother or sister who prepared the food for the day was considered special because that person was performing one of the holiest of functions. Blessing food was not a tedious act so I didn’t have to suffer through long prayers before eating. As in every other facet of their lives, the Brothers and Sisters acted with elegant simplicity, briefly and silently charging the food with the Light of the Father from the palms of their hands. They believed that the body was light; therefore, it must be fed with light.

They placed a particular emphasis on pure clear drinking water, treating it with sunlight, words and hands. I learned from them that this pure water would be more effective if exposed to the very first rays of the rising sun and blessed at that moment by putting one or both hands palm open to the water as it was poured in the sunlight, saying, “I charge this water with the Light of the Father.” After the water was charged, one could feel heat from it out to about six inches. At that point, the water was programmed with prayer to give healing, abundance, love, and/or spiritual evolvement.

They believed that fasting, meditating and drinking this special water would bit by bit raise the vibration, cell by cell, of the body and mind, clearing the consciousness and lifting the whole personality to a state of listening to God.

This water, charged with the enormous energy of the white light of the Father, when drunk daily, fasting with reverence and faith, reversed aging, disease, and all worldly afflictions. It changed the very atoms of the body, increasing the energy of all the bodies, approximating the pure light of our being, somewhat like tuning a radio to the proper frequency.
 
And anyone, even the worst of us, could do this.

As at home, we bathed every day and wore immaculately clean simple white clothing. And, like Isha and His Mother, the Essenes communicated silently with each other. Everyday chores were performed as a sacrament, and no one personally owned anything, which gave all great freedom. Early morning, noon and sunset were times of prayer and meditation. The phases of the moon were observed with ceremonies and prayers, the full and new moon being the most important. Throughout all the days I heard gongs, bells and the beautiful singing of my brothers and sisters. Living with these people was magical.

They grew their food in various hidden gardens, orchards and vineyards secreted about the huge rocks on the alluvial plain below the buildings. In these places springs bubbling out of the ground watered olives, figs, nuts, grapes and other fruits. I enjoyed watching the herd of milk goats. Studious young men loudly reciting and singing sacred verses watched over those conceited pampered ladies as they wandered about the grassy slopes.

Inside the entrance, my old friend Grandfather Snake had taken up residence, but he ignored me. He thought he was important here, and he was. Cook set out a bowl of clabbered milk for him every few days. Sometimes he would empty it, sometimes not. He liked to sun himself in a spot just out of the morning shade but where we might walk. He was proprietary about his sunning spot. Of course, we never disturbed him. This snake was a dangerous viper, but we stepped around him out of respect rather than from the fear of being bitten.

Oh the studies! The knowledge and scholarship here was immense! I tried to put it all inside me all at once! I was taught how to make my remembering go back to the time of the designing of the Great Pyramid. Thousands of years ago, as a member of a mathematical team, I had worked one full lifetime on it. The project was so enormous that some of us after our deaths came back to work almost another full lifetime. We did this to properly set the astrological specifications in relationship to the function, as it was called, to the Earth, the universe and the future. (That future is now!) The actual construction occurred in later generations. There was a problem or defect, a three-degree offset to either the polar star or the Center, not the sun of our solar system. Three degrees was not a negligible number. The Family was trying to ascertain the problem and also to get information for Isha.

I thought the Essenes knew everything about everyone and everything. Still, that didn’t seem to be entirely true; they wanted to know what we had put into the pyramid. My expertise while in trance was in mathematics, numbers and their relationships to geometric forms and electromagnetic forces of the earth and humankind. So much to remember! I wrote and spoke as fast as I could. Others wrote what I spoke, also. Because there was a sense of outside destructive events moving in on us, there was much to be recorded and not much time to do so. We didn’t really rush, but worked steadily every day. I would go into trance in the morning and speak for a couple of hours or more, then go play with my cat and watch Grandfather Snake. In late afternoon or evening we would have another session of picking my brain.

Many nights when the moon was bright, my mind would obsessively return to the semi-trance state, and I would rise from my bed to sit on the cool floor in the moonlight, arranging clay and wood blocks. My roommates told me that for hours I would mutter at top speed while rapidly moving the objects about. I was a small girl away from home, but the Family didn’t give me any special consideration, treating me as an adult, which, obviously, much of my brain was. I felt a sense of emptiness and loss, of having to grow up too soon. But these were important times, and who was I to ask for a childhood?

A few days before the winter solstice, the same taciturn kinsman arrived to take me back to my original (extended) family. However, instead of going back to Miriam’s house, we went to Uncle Zebedee’s. The family had got together for feasting and dancing for the solstice and also to welcome me back. I was embarrassed, but tried to behave properly and accept the honor with grace. I felt much older, but enjoyed being back with my parents and relatives in this large happy family.

My Grandpa Joseph was glad to see me and I him. We sat together, not speaking, while others danced in front of the fire. The moon was full, and the clear air amplified shadows on the big boulders from the craggy trees and shrubs. We listened to the usual musicians playing cymbals, flute, drum and zither. They sang with magical song, beautiful and mysterious, as if they had come from the stars for us to listen to them.

I tried to stay awake, but my habits of going to bed with the sun while staying with the Essenes made my eyes droop and close. Grandpa carried me to a mat on the ground. I pretended to be asleep so as to enjoy being tucked in. It was wonderful to be home and to be a child again!

The next morning, my mother tried to have a conversation with me, beginning with “Did you have a nice time at the Institute? We’re glad to have you back.” She looked at me with a combination of love, exasperation and puzzlement in her blue eyes, because I was so, so, whatever. Poor woman, she did want to be a mother to her only child, but that child was me. Such an awkward situation. She never had quite known how to relate to me. Both my parents had always been at a loss as to what to do with their strange child.

 I understood, and hoped that she didn’t feel so obligated.

Soon after, I went to visit the shepherd cousins up on the hillsides to get a month’s rest and vacation after so much hard mental work at the Essenes. I learned how to milk a goat! I ate the cheeses and played with the baby goats.

[lorae]

GROWING UP

Women of my class, and all classes actually, were needed by their husbands to manage the family businesses, especially when the men had to be away. Since my parents had chosen a future husband for me, a trader with many caravans, I had to become literate and be able to keep the accounts. I needed to know business so as not to be cheated when dealing with foremen or agents, and was also expected to be reasonably well versed in literature and history so as to play my part as the "grand dame" of the house.

My pampered childhood was over, and I was growing up. At age eleven, although I still lived with Miriam and Isha, it was time for me to do lessons. My parents engaged a tense, disagreeable little Greek-Jewish man to tutor me in many subjects. He thought that he belonged in the big city (Rome), but here he was in this god-forsaken place and teaching a girl! I’m sure I made his life difficult.

I had a knack for mathematics which astounded the little man. He was actually impressed! For my part, I didn’t want to do anything at all. Isha was gone most of the time, so I cared for nothing. I was miserable and wasn’t particularly interested in growing up, and even less in getting married. I was difficult for my tutor. Auntie Miriam once put a few moments in to calm me and get me started, but I rebelled by having appalling penmanship.

For the next few months I studied under the little Greek man. However, due to various underhanded strategies I used to irritate him, I managed to nearly drive him mad, and he left in great agitation. I was quite satisfied to see him go. I wanted only to read and educate myself and was left to do exactly that. I loved to read!

 I imagined disguising myself as a boy so I could go read the holy books in the temple. I thought that it was outrageous that the priests would not permit a female to read them.

Isha was away from the home more and more, and Aunt Miriam was often not there either. When They were gone, life seemed dead and uninteresting. One empty hot afternoon, I was moping about in the garden. I didn’t know that Isha had returned. He came out of the house and said to me,
“Blessings be upon you, my small sister. You understand my words and take them to your heart. You are as simple and open to my teaching as the butterfly is to the sky. I have not forgotten you, and will not, not to the end of time.”

 I understood that He was speaking to me not only as Isha but also as the Christ.

Often, Isha left for months, teaching and healing in different lands. At the house, we faithfully kept up the meditations for Him. Then, oh joy, He returned! He was often very tired and preoccupied, but He was back! Though it was difficult to keep people away, we tried to let Him have complete rest.

I felt quite grown up when I brought food to Him, and I loved to wash and massage His feet. He would sometimes take a moment to touch my head, and I would feel a brilliant flash of power and energy, like lightning. He had been changed on a molecular level with the brilliant and powerful Christ vitality. Since time was a precious resource for Him, I knew that I shouldn’t take up His time or energy. Still, I missed the wonderful close friendship we had had when I was little and He was my Isha.

While out teaching, He was around much sickness and human negativity, and it did drain Him. When He came home, He needed time up in the hills to replenish Himself by communing with His Father and the angels. Sometimes he stayed a week or more. He had been away for two days, and early one morning the women of the household (and I!) left the house secretly so as not to be followed.

We carried food and clothing wrapped in white cloth for Him. Only His Mother washed His clothes, and she was the only one to touch the garments when He wasn’t wearing them. After hiking silently for some hours up a rough footpath, we suddenly came upon Him when we climbed up over a rise in the rocky path. Dressed in white, He sat on a table-like rock under a large oak-like tree across a tumbling creek to the east. He was deep in meditation, which He had been in for days. A magnificent energy surrounded Isha in meditation. We didn’t disturb Him, quietly setting the bundles down and leaving immediately.

We all gave Him our love and energy, following the example of His Mother. I knew that His human self was often fatigued and worried, frustrated that so very few understood him. Sometimes I felt that He was near tears of despair, feeling that He was not accomplishing His mission. The Christ was, however, of complete omniscience and confidence.

[lorae]

FROM THE LAST YEARS

At home, the nightly classes continued. A faithful core of students who had attended from the beginning were there. Isha spoke with precision and certainty:
“Seek, and ye shall find. Ask, and all will be given. The Christ of your being stands at the door and knocks. Open that door, and He will enter your being, flooding your soul with love, a glorious energy, blinding in its intensity, lifting you up to the heavens. You are more magnificent than angels, a Heavenly Being of light and wisdom.

“As the wind coming before a storm quickens the awareness, so may the understanding that enters your lives in meditation quicken your consciousness for the great awakening to come. All is of the Father. Know this, and be at peace. His love enfolds thee. All is one. Understand that Love IS. There is no other. Love is all, pure being, pure light.

“The first rays of the morning sun fill us with the promise of the Father; of life everlasting, forever pure and loving. Listen to the birds when they welcome this glorious event, for they are Gods singing to thee, a praise to the most high, sung in such great exultation as to lift our hearts.

“Listen; be still and listen, for God is in His Heaven, and All is Holy.”

Relationships

“Women are beloved of men, a gift of loveliness and gentleness for their life. Fathers, husbands, brothers and sons, cherish the women of your family, because they came to be such as a gift of love from their hearts, a thought and desire they felt before coming to this earth to be with you.

“And women, cherish the men in your family, for they chose to be your protectors and providers, even as you provide for them and give them solace and gentleness in their lives. All are one with the Father, beloved children of his blessing.”

[lorae]

HE POLITICAL SCENE

The Holy Land at that time had a Mediterranean climate with more rainfall than now. A lovely place to live, it was a land of forested hills and rich farmland. Because it was a center for trade and commerce, it was a good place to start the dissemination of new ideas.

The Romans were a pervasive presence, but the ordinary Jewish people were, in most cases, allowed to carry out their lives as usual. The Romans actually brought some stability to the area because the Jewish ruling class and priests were a little unstable, if not downright crazy. The priesthood were carrying on an ongoing effort to hold absolute power, material, spiritual and intellectual. For some peculiar reason, they didn’t want people to even think private thoughts not approved by them. The wealthy and powerful merchant class, being well traveled and exposed to many advanced cultures in other countries, had a secular and liberal viewpoint. They were, therefore, a strong opposing faction to the priesthood.

The fairly even-handed, impersonal presence of the Roman occupation was a counter-balance to the priests and merchants. (If tearing through the streets on a big horse or in a chariot, scaring everyone to death, could be called impersonal—only the Roman military officers, centurions and higher, were allowed to have horses. The foot-soldiers were just that. Certainly no civilians could own horses; it would be similar to owning a military tank today. The officers would come racing through the narrow streets with their charges, leaving carnage behind and producing terror before; one could hear them coming from the screams of the people and the general racket emanating from their passing.)

In fact people could often get fairer treatment in a Roman court, because less bribery had to be paid.
The Romans really didn’t care; their rule was necessarily brutal, an orderly and inexorable grinding down process, but they simply wanted a quiet, productive province. As a child, I shouldn’t have been aware of all this, but my father was a not-too-pious Jew who served as a combination Jewish and Roman official having to do with regulating water. He was strong-minded, honorable and fair, and most people did not cross him.

But now, the Romans had become more unreasonable, demanding that Jews worship and sacrifice to idols of Caesar and their gods. Further vexation came from the priesthood, who responded to this stress by insisting on the observance of even more rules governing every moment of life. Taxation was heavier and seemingly even more unjust. The people felt squeezed in by ever-tightening oppression from all sides.

Anger and resentment was seething in nearly every man, even in the students of the nightly classes. Isha spoke about anger:

Anger and the Color Red

“Red is of the sunset and the sunrise. Red is creative energy. The first fire of your being is red. The love of the Father is creative energy. Red is very different in its character from blue and yellow. Red flowers are a good example of the intensity and energy of Red. Let us now talk of anger; Red Anger.

“Anger is expectation. Expectation with the opposite manifestation. Why do we not accept that opposite manifestation? Because we feel outrage. Outrage is anger. Outrage is the emotion felt when something happens that creates resentment. What is resentment? The emotion created from being forced to give.

“Now, if red is creative energy, which is expansive giving, why is Red Anger brought about from forced giving?

“Freedom is a right, a basic right embodied in cosmic law.  Abridgment of freedom is a crime against that law. Force of any sort is a crime against the cosmic law of freedom. The red of anger is the creative force exploding, manifesting through the abridgment of the primary cosmic law. Freedom is paramount. All other laws derive from that one.

“Anger is energy; energy released in bursts—creative energy forced to express. This explains the disharmony of anger and its intensity. Love is creative energy. Anger is mis-expressed creative energy.

“Therefore, anger cannot, by its very nature, be suppressed. In most cases, it is an expression of forced creativity. Remember, the law of free will is foremost. Force, or coercion of any sort, will produce anger, the energy of creativity expressed in an improper way.

“The force and coercion in this world have brought forth anger, which has built for many ages. Mankind is trapped in this cycle. You are trapped in anger because you have chosen to use it as a way to interact with others, to fill the empty boredom and loneliness of your lives.

“This cycle will cease when you see that coercion leads to anger, which leads to improper action, which creates improper reaction, which creates anger, and on and on. God will not save you, unless you ask for release from this endless, pointless cycle of non-creative energy [anger]. There is no other escape. Winning over your adversary leads to his experience of anger, which will come back to you in further provocation from him, which you will react to with anger and another provocation, in life after life.

“To be free, you must desire to be released from this wheel, this endless, downward, constricting cycle. There are other cycles for you to experience, which are more difficult, but such is your path. Know that you are Children of the Father, and He desires for you to become one with Him.

“The desire not to experience anger leads to its negation. Forgive yourself for creating another’s anger in the beginning. By forgiving yourself, you will automatically forgive them. Ask for the gift of self-forgiveness. The Father will grant you instant freedom, the blissful freedom to soar through the heavens to be with your Heavenly Family in love and rapture.

“You, and you only, hold yourself to limitation. I am here to set you free. Limitation is not your true condition. When you have tired of it, you can leave it. It benefits you nothing. From this feeling of limitation, all troubles follow. Throw it off! Ask to be free. Now!

“The law of freedom is paramount. The law will prevail. Limitation is in direct contradiction of that supreme law. You were meant to be free, to create. Stifling the creative impulse leads to anger, which leads to more limitation, which leads to more anger, and on and on, through the ages of man.

“Now, there are some who have abused the gift of freedom, choosing to enslave others. The law will be upheld. Know this. There will come a time when all will have chosen their path, the path of freedom or the path of limitation. There, indeed, will be a separation of the wheat from the chaff, but each will choose of his own accord which he will be. There is no judgment. All is. You are free to choose.”

Often, a phrase from the Master would set off a discussion which would continue throughout the night. His listeners, being educated philosophers and theologians, did not hesitate to question Him as to the exact meaning of His Words. I heard many learned subtle arguments of metaphysics and theology in that modest little room, with only the smoky light from the two oil lamps making dancing shadows on the white clay walls.

[lorae]

A man asked Him about eating meat or drinking wine. Isha said that we are human, not flawless, and what we put in our mouths, or did, was not so important as our attitudes. However, our spoken words had more power, and we should be careful how we exercise that power.

Perfection

“You are perfect as you are. You need not eat special foods or pray in special ways, as those who would have you as slaves tell you. You are perfect now, and always. The Father is in you and does not judge His children. Seek only to be at one with God, and judge not yourself or others. Lift up your mind to the mountain tops, and know you Father as yourself.

“Your very imperfections are a manifestation of the perfection of the Creator.

“These imperfections are the doorway, the path to the Christ of your being, opening your soul to the true glorious perfection that you are, beloved children of the Father.

“By the effect of this doorway, the Children of God move on their way to eternal light. Thus we are led, step by step, out of one consciousness into the next. This perfection, this perfection of being, that contains all that is, is movement, creative energy, the Father’s love expressing through us.

“Perfection is creative energy, ever moving, ever expanding, as light flows in glowing colors from a revolving crystal. You are that light, expressing the creativity of the essence of being by the very activity of your life, as you create perceived imperfection from the present perceived imperfection, ever revolving, ever evolving up the spiral of time and space.

“Know that you are perfect as you are, and that your everyday life, with all its perceived tribulations, is an expression of the infinite creativity [love] of the Father.”

As usual, the thin rabbi put forth the questions that others were too embarrassed to ask: “Master, how can imperfections be a doorway?”

Isha answered: “By the perfection of your being, including your imperfections, the perfection of the Creator is expressed. Without those imperfections, you could not change, and through change the creativity of God is manifested. Thus imperfections are the means, the doorway, if you will, for change and growth.”

An erudite man said, “Are you saying that we are already perfect, but that that perfection is not the perfection of ordinary understanding, which is of something static, fixed, complete and flawless; but rather that our imperfections complete our perfection, because these imperfections are the means for change and growth?”

Isha answered again: “Our Creator is dynamic, and His Love is expressed through change and movement, the creativity of light and life.”

[lorae]

LUKE, PHILIP, TIMOTHY AND THOMAS

New faces had began appearing at Isha's classes.  An older tall, distant Roman known as Lucius was one.  Clean-shaven, ramrod straight and always dressed correctly in drab colors, his formal and abrupt manner seemed foreign.  He appeared to be almost haughty, but in actuality might have been simply a dignified man of few words.  He gave an impression of stern attention; the severity of almost shoulder-length straight grayish-blonde hair, and long narrow nose was intensified by thin lips and a square jaw.  Sensing that he would have little tolerance for a little girl underfoot and out-of-place, I gave this imposing man a wide berth.

In contrast to Lucius, the baby-faced Philip was small and fine-boned.  He had dark hair and big brown eyes that looked out at the world in an overly sensitive and almost pitiful way.  The over-all impression of youthfulness was further defined by a soft voice, a fine olive skin and soft hands.  Partial to wearing stripes and elegant sandals, Philip had a seemingly infinite wardrobe of expensive clothes.  He could have been unattractive, yet when his sweet smile lit up his whole face, he won everyone with his simple charm.  His white teeth and shining eyes were irresistible in their beautiful sincerity.

Timothy exuded stability.  A large square muscular frame carried on solid legs intensified his sensible personality.  He loved to grow things, and sold produce and herbs in the marketplace from his large farm.  Nonetheless, as the son of a government official, he had a solid classical education as befitted his class and was equally interested in philosophical and spiritual matters.  His beardless face looked as if it had been copied from a bust of a Roman patrician, with straight nose, full, well-shaped mouth and broad, high forehead.  Light blue eyes showed great kindness and concentration.  He spoke carefully and well, and all who knew him were the better for it, for he was a kind and gentle man.

Thomas¹⁴ looked somewhat like Timothy.  A big solid man with a high noble forehead, he had an imposing nose and well-defined jaw with determined, thin lips.  He spoke forcefully and often.  Though he was slow to absorb new ideas, his devotion to Issa was complete and total.  Once he understood a concept, he wanted to impress it on everyone immediately.  He came from a wealthy Jewish family, and had been well-educated in the Greek tradition.


14.  Later to be Riichard the Lion-Hearted.  He's another one whom I knew in this life, and, he, also, hadn't changed a bit.