Books of Interest
Teachings of the Great Brotherhood of Light by the Masters Kuthumi and Morya
Sanctus Germanus Prophecies Vol. 1 by the Amanuensis
Sanctus Germanus Prophecies Vol. 2 by the Amanuensis
Sanctus Germanus Prophecies Vol. 3 by the Amanuensis
A Personal Account of Mediumship Training
Sri Lanka and the New Psychic Openings
While in Sri Lanka more ideas flooded my mind about the website and between the ayurvedic treatments and care, I spent many hours writing and mentally designing the website. It was monsoon season and spectacular thunderstorms would strike in the middle of the night, awakening me with their violence and power, but at the same time stimulating thought in the direction of the website.
During the relaxing ayurvedic treatments, my mind would drift far away. One day, the face of an Asian man flashed as clear as a color photo into my mind's view. I didn't know this man, neither had I even seen him before. There was no one of his description at the hotel. On another day, the face of a blond woman flashed into my mind, then another, and another. I was very perplexed and did not know the significance of these visions.
A few days later, as I was strolling on the beach in front of the center, a couple of fellow hotel guests called me to meet a new guest who had just arrived. I was startled when I saw him. He was the Asian man I saw in my mind a couple days before! A few days later, as I sat in the hotel restaurant for dinner, another newly arrived hotel guest sat at the table next to me. She was the blond woman I saw in my mind a few days before! And so it went on and on so that I got a preview of the guests who were going to check in.
I read Inside the Occult and learned that that book was actually the first volume of Old Diary Leaves by Henry Steel Olcott, a six volume personal account of the building of the Theosophical Society. I discovered that Olcott was very well known and revered for his work in setting up Buddhist education in Ceylon during the latter half of the Nineteenth Century while co-founding the Theosophical Society in Adyar, India not far from Madras. In fact, when I asked a few older Sri Lankans about Olcott, they would go into long dissertations about the good he had done in the line of Buddhist unity and education. They pointed out to me that there is a large statue of him in the square in front of the railroad station.
I called upon an old Lankan friend who had been my roommate in Paris years ago. When I mentioned Olcott, both he and his wife told me they had attended Buddhist schools that he had helped establish a hundred years ago. This friend had invited me to Ceylon thirty years ago to meet his extended family, and I toured the whole island with them.
Reflecting upon my conversations with these people about Helena Blavatsky and Henry S. Olcott in Sri Lanka made me feel strangely close to them, and I became convinced that I had a connection with Sri Lanka and the Blavatsky-Olcott dual in a previous life. I made a mental note to ask Sir Arthur about this connection during my next session with the trance medium.
Then one early morning before sunrise I had the surprise of my life. While still in the hazy world between sleep and consciousness, an ecstatic feeling swept over me and then I saw him, as clear as day in my mind's eye! Justin Moreward Haig had paid me visit. This time I recognized him although I had no preconceived notion of what he looked like. I just knew it was he.
I left this experience in Sri Lanka full of ideas for the website and had already started a book that Sir Arthur suggested I write. This book was to be published a year later as The Sanctus Germanus Prophecies.
The Website and Its Implications
When Sir Arthur reminded me that I had contracted to put up a website for the Brotherhood, he also anticipated a question I was harboring in my mind. "Why? There are already so many sites like this, who would want to read this one?"
He answered, "Because it is sponsored by he who sponsored you." He explained further that the website would call forth the thousands of light workers who had been placed all over the world. It would rally them into a force that would bring in the New Lemurian Era, the Age of Aquarius.
With this in mind, the thought came to me to register the site as www.sanctusgermanus.net. Sanctus Germanus or Holy Brother was the name this great soul took during the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries while he frequented the courts of Europe, known as the Count St. Germain. I took a crash self-learning course in website design and management and finally uploaded the new site in August 2002.
A few weeks later in September 2002, I went to Hawaii to meet with the trance medium and Sir Arthur. Sir Arthur said this was more than a website, for in the few weeks it had been online, forty-five light workers had been touched and thousands more were to follow. I felt relieved. He also pointed out that St. Germain had made an announcement about the website to a Council of Masters held on Venus earlier. I then asked for suggestions on how to improve the site, and the Masters made several comments showing they had indeed read the website.
In the months that followed, the website swelled with new content. Audio discourses given by the Masters and the Council of Six (Sir Arthur, Estelle Roberts, Ho Le Wei, Arthur Ford, Golden Eagle, and C. W. Leadbeater) filled the website with the views and teachings of the Great Brotherhood of Light. The website statistics that track the number of visitors and their origins show that it is doing its job: reaching thousands around the world.
A Further Revelation
During the same session, I approached Sir Arthur through the trance medium with the question that had stayed with me since Sri Lanka. What was my connection to the Blavatsky-Olcott team?
"Don't you know by now?" Sir Arthur asked. I answered that I only had inklings or feelings that I had been close to them.
The medium remained silent for quite a long time. Finally, he explained, "I have asked the question five times to Sir Arthur and the Council of Six and each time I received the same answer. The fifth time, they even flashed a picture of the person you had been in a previous incarnation." The medium took a deep breath and looked at me seriously. "I do not take lightly what I am about to say but I have verified it five times. You were Henry Steel Olcott in a previous incarnation."
I took this information calmly. A sense of "coming home" swept over me. It made sense and confirmed inner feelings. Another mystery had been solved. Another piece to the puzzle had been found. This explained why I was so drawn to the writings of the Theosophical Society. This explained why I was so drawn to go to Sri Lanka.
I spent the next few months digesting this revelation and reading the entire six-volume set of Old Diary Leaves, by Olcott.
My Master Teacher Takes Over
I went to back to Hawaii in January 2003, although I had not really planned to go there at that time. I again contacted the trance medium, for by this time we had become close friends through email.
As the medium drew in deep breaths and settled into trance, his body suddenly jolted and the deep, masculine voice of the Master El Morya came through:
I had always felt a certain affinity to El Morya but as noted above, the only two Masters who had communicated with me up to this point had been Justin Moreward Haig and St. Germain. Yet both El Morya and Kuthumi had worked closely with Blavatsky and Olcott during the days of Theosophy, El Morya taking personal charge of Olcott's training. Again, the memories of this relationship had to seep in.
I threw myself into another reading frenzy, studying closely the famous Mahatma Letters, Old Diary Leaves and the various biographies of Helena P. Blavatsky. Scene after scene in India overtook me as memories flooded my mind-the long dusty train trips throughout India, the negotiations with the Buddhist hierarchy to establish a system of Buddhist schools in Sri Lanka, the countless ad lib speeches to the masses in both India and Ceylon, the oppressing heat of the tropics, the personal visits of the Mahatmas, the mass healings Olcott accomplished throughout his journeys-and settled into my conscious and subconscious memories.
I focused on the "Pact of Love" the Master El Morya had mentioned and came to the conclusion that this pact had been made between El Morya, Blavatsky and Olcott. But where was Blavatsky? Was she also to reincarnate during these latter days? All I knew was that Sir Arthur had mentioned in passing that HPB had visited the website and was pleased. And that was all he was permitted to tell me.
Change of Guard
In May 2003 I received the devastating news that the trance medium was seriously ill and had undergone major brain surgery. We had lost a major portal to the Brotherhood in Shamballa.
In my meditations I asked for guidance from the Brotherhood and was told that the next few months would be a grace period before I started back on the path of destiny. I was to travel and experience life during this time. I spent most of my time fine-tuning a book that Sir Arthur suggested I write and it was finally published as Beyond Armageddon in July 2003 and later as The Sanctus Germanus Prophecies. I also started another project with some friends to write a film script on the life of Helena P. Blavatsky.
I also decided I would sail to India, just as Mme. Blavatsky and H.S. Olcott had done in 1875. Call it a trip of nostalgia. Since there are no such Nineteenth century steamers plying the oceans today, I booked passage on a freighter to sail from St. John's New Brunswick to Mumbai (Bombay) India in November 2003.
Trip of Reconnection
A month later, I set sail on a German freighter from Saint John, Canada all the way to Mumbai, India. The ship was huge and the accommodations very comfortable. It was a slow ship with a maximum speed of fourteen knots per hour, approximately the same speed as a steamer in the latter part of the Nineteenth Century. So in a way, the time it took me to reach India would be the same as when HPB and HSO had sailed in 1875, minus the stop in England. The trip was half nostalgic and half adventure, and I loved every minute of it.
Thirty-two days later, we docked in the modern container port of Nhava Sheva outside Bombay. By then I was fairly certain where I was to go in India, for a few days before we docked, El Morya came to me in my cabin and told me telepathically that the Master Babaji had prepared the way for me to go to Darjeeling, the etheric headquarters of the Master El Morya.
By my third day in India, I found myself at the foothills of the great Himalayas about to take a four-hour, harrowing taxi ride up the mountains to around 8000 feet to Darjeeling. I could have taken the famous toy train that takes ten to twelve hours to arrive Darjeeling. (I believe HPB had had to take that train to get to Darjeeling where El Morya restored her failing health.) As we careened around the last cliff-hung turn on the narrow mountain road, I saw the great Mount Kanchanjunga, the world's third highest peak, before me. It had been worth every second of the nail-biting ride to see such a spectacular and majestic mountain.
As I checked into my hotel, I half expected some sort of welcoming party, i.e. an appearance of the Master to welcome me to Darjeeling. I looked for signs around me of a tall, turbaned Rajput prince but recognized no one of that description. But thinking back, someone dressed like that in modern India would have looked quite out of place today. I asked the hotel clerk and manager if they knew of El Morya and they all looked at me blankly. Never heard of him. Where does he live? Does he work for the government? "No, no he does not live on this dimension but up there," I said maladroitly as I looked at their blank, puzzled faces.
Disappointed that the welcoming committee had not shown up, I went to bed in a beautiful, antique room of a former Maharajah's palace. It was December and very chilly, so the staff had built a roaring fire in the fireplace to keep the room warm. As I lay on the bed trying to talk myself out of my disappointment, the fire in the fireplace cast a dancing reflection on the ceiling. As I stared at ceiling, the reflections began gathering together and slowly formed into the image that I knew to be the Master El Morya. There he was on the ceiling, smiling benevolently down upon me on the bed, wearing his turban and beard. I blinked a couple times to make sure I was not hallucinating. His face disappeared, and I fell asleep happy that I had seen my Master.
After breakfast the next morning, I sat in my room enjoying the beautiful scenery of the tea plantations below me and wondering what I was doing in Darjeeling. Some movement caught my eye on a section of the wall in the room and suddenly I could see people started walking into the room. Again, they were dressed in the full array of races and cultures, passing one after another, just like they appear on the backside of El Morya's medal. As I watched this parade of personalities pass through the wall, I did not feel alone or frightened but part of something. Were they ghosts in the room? Was it my wild imagination tricking me again? Who were these people? They did not appear to want to frighten me. On the contrary, most looked so preoccupied with their own thoughts and too intelligent to play such childish pranks.
I decided from that moment on, I would fast for a couple days to clear both body and mind and wait for instructions from whomever. I felt impatient. Everything seemed ad hoc and unplanned, but I kept reminding myself to remain flexible.
The next morning I woke up to an image of a man looking at me in my mind's eye. He was a European wearing a heavy, black beard with shoulder length black wavy hair. He was fair and looked very intense. He conveyed to me telepathically that he had been sent to teach me. Teach me what? I asked. He said nothing. I agreed but I still wanted to know who he was.
I got up and started to flip through a book I had purchased the day before called the History of Darjeeling and the Sikkim Himalaya, by K.C . Bhanja. Suddenly, my eyes caught a section about a European mystic from Hungary who had come to Tibet and walked the Himalayas in the early 1800's. His name was Alexander Csoma de Koros. I knew at that instant, the man who had come to teach me was he.
Csoma de Koros had walked from Hungary to Tibet and spent many years in monasteries. He knew of the teachings from Shambhala and authored the first dictionary of the Tibetan language into a western language, which like the Rosetta Stone, opened up the enigmatic Tibetan Buddhist practices to the west. In a sense he served as a bridge between the western and eastern cultures. He died in Darjeeling in April 1842.
Csomo de Koros then urged me to go back to the bookstore where I had bought the book. A couple hours later, I walked out of the bookstore with a dozen tomes and headed back to my hotel room. For the next few days I read voraciously trying to absorb some of the Tibetan Buddhist teachings of the famous Tsong Khapa, whose reincarnation is supposedly the present Dalai Lama.
Return to the Brotherhood
After a few days of this blitz study hall, I sat back and wondered where this was all leading. I still felt uncomfortable about the ethereal nature of my trip. I needed something solid to latch on to because I was afraid my imagination was running a bit too wild to make up for the lack of concreteness.
I took my usual early evening walk along the ridges of the Darjeeling to view the majestic mountains and Mt. Kuchanchanga, and then went to a cyber-cafe to check my email. One of the most astounding features of modern India is the omnipresence of the Internet. In Darjeeling alone, I counted at least ten such cafes. So from the mountaintops the Himalayas I was able to communicate with my closest friends around the world via high speed DSL Internet.
I received a message "From your present position, look northwest and you will find a temple. Go there."
I rushed back to my hotel and stood in my room trying to figure out which way was northwest. It was night so I couldn't get my bearings from the sun's path. I would have to wait until morning to see the exact placement of the sunrise. You can imagine how excited I was to get up the next morning!
Morning finally arrived and after I got my bearings relative to the sun, I was able to identify the general direction of northwest. I rushed down to the front desk. I pointed in the northwesterly direction and asked the receptionist, "Is there a Buddhist temple in that direction?" She did not know. I asked the manager and he didn't know. Finally, the gentleman walked by and said, "Yes. There is a temple in that direction. It is called the Bhutia Busty Temple." Then everyone chimed in, "Ah, yes! The Bhutia Busty Temple!"
The reason the others did not know was because the path to the temple winds around the mountain peak we were on and starts at the east. I packed water into my backpack and headed to the mouth of the road that lead to the temple. An hour later, winding down steep slopes (which I would have to climb back up) I finally arrived at the temple.
Bhutia Busty is a small, modest Buddhist temple painted a bright red with gilded columns. From the outside it is pleasant but not an extraordinarily ornate temple like some of the other larger ones in the area. As I entered the courtyard, two or three monks were scurrying about preparing and serving lunch. Seated with his back to me was the Temple Lama who had already been served. I approached him and told him I did not want to disturb his lunch but would it be okay if I meditated in the temple. He said, "Of course." He signaled one of the monks to open the door to the main temple, and as I went in, he shut the door.
It was dark and cold in the temple, but happily I had worn my winter coat. I settled into a little niche and prepared to go into meditation. A few minutes later the door opened and the Lama came in and sat next to me. He spoke very good English, because, he said, he was from Nepal. I told him a little about myself and he told me a little about his work at the temple. He then excused himself and left. I continued my meditation for a few more minutes, then got up to leave.
The Lama was waiting for me outside. He smiled and said, "Upstairs, we have a special, inner room that is reserved for special occasions and for the monks. Would you like to meditate in it?"
Of course, I jumped at the chance. I followed him up a bare concrete stairway. He unlocked a bolted door, and we walked into a pitch-dark anteroom. He unlocked another set of doors, and we entered an amazing room! Lined up on one side in glass enclosure were all the deities, all gilded in bright gold. He explained the significance of all the deities in the glass enclosure. He said that the monks had just meticulously painted every column and the whole ceiling with ornate Buddhist designs. I felt overwhelmingly privileged to be allowed in the room.
He then asked me if I would like to meditate in the room, and of course I jumped at the honor! He indicated a couple cushions and backed out of the room, closing the doors behind him.
Alone in this beautiful room, I went into deep meditation. Suddenly, I found myself sitting in the same place but in a much larger room with a door opposite me. Those same people whom I had seen walking through the wall of my room started streaming into the room and surrounded me. I felt no fear, only love from these beings.
I looked among them and recognized El Morya, St. Germain, Kuthumi, and other of the well-known Masters. Then everyone turned toward the door and a tall, magnificent being walked into the room. I instantly knew him to be Sanat Kumara, the Ancient of Days. I immediately bowed my head in reverence to him but I could still see everything going on in the room.
The Great One approached me and put a necklace around my head. Then everyone in the room lined up and did the same thing. I expected my neck and head to be piled with necklaces but in the end there was only one around my neck. After this ceremony, which I interpret to be my re-induction into the Great Brotherhood of Light, everyone filed out of the great hall after Sanat Kumara. I then gradually found myself back in the special room of the Bhutia Busty Temple.
I tried hard to comprehend what had happened to me. All I knew was that it had happened. It was not my imagination. And to this day, I have not understood the entire significance of this ceremony.
I sat for a few more minutes in semi-meditation then got up to go out.
Outside, the Lama was waiting for me. I told him, "I had a most marvelous experience in that room." He shook his head and said, "I know." His answer struck me at that moment as coming from someone who is clairvoyant.
The Lama and I then sat on the balcony of the temple and chatted for another hour. I told him more about my life and showed him the apports I had received, including the one from El Morya. He looked at them calmly and did not seem overly impressed, but said, "Yes, we do this also in the temples." I shared with him a book on Shambhala, which he thought interesting, then I promised to come back in the next two days to give him a copy of another book I had seen in the bookstore on Shamballa. We parted and I started my long and arduous trek up the hill in the oxygen-thin air.
The following day I returned to the temple to give the Lama the promised book. The young monk told me he had gone to do some errands and was very sorry to miss me. The young monk performed a special ceremony for me of drums and chants, and then invited me again to sit in the special room to meditate. Nothing spectacular like the first time happened.
The next day I received a phone call early in the morning from the front desk. "There's a monk to see you," said the receptionist. I got dressed quickly and rushed down to the lobby. There, sitting calmly in a chair on the terrace was the Lama. He greeted me and I invited him to have breakfast with me. No thank you, he said. He had already eaten and was on his way to the Kingdom of Sikkim. He had dropped by to say goodbye to me and apologized for not being at the temple when I went there.
We chatted for a few more minutes and exchanged emails. (Yes, the Lama had a hotmail address!) He looked at his watch and said, "I must go. My bus is leaving for Sikkim shortly."
I walked with him up to the main square where the other temple monks were waiting. I held my hand out to shake his and say goodbye, but instead he gave me a full bear hug in front of his colleagues. He said we would meet one day in Canada. I left him feeling as though I had said goodbye to a brother, a very close brother.
Retrieval of my Soul Fragment
What had been the purpose of this trip to Darjeeling? It had several dimensions. First, it was to confirm that I was still a part of the Brotherhood of Light. The actual role to be played is only being revealed little by little. Second, it became evident to me that this trip had been planned well before my incarnation. The Brotherhood had retained a fragment of my soul in order to make sure I would come back, and the purpose of my trip to Darjeeling was in essence to retrieve that fragment. As of this writing, I am told it will take approximately one year to reintegrate it with the rest of my soul and the process will not always be easy. Third, it was during those thoughtful hours I spent gazing out at the peaks of the Himalayas that nascent thoughts concerning the founding of the Sanctus Germanus Foundation were downloaded as a "reminder" of what I had contracted to do prior to this incarnation.
Carefully Orchestrated Plan
I've detailed above the process I went through to reach this stage of service. My training continues today. Looking back over the past few years, I see that everything was part of a carefully conceived and orchestrated plan to bring me back into the fold, a plan that I myself developed prior to this incarnation. As Sir Arthur Conan Doyle put it, I volunteered for it, planned it with the higher councilors, and am here to execute it further. All this took place before this incarnation and I am just waking to the realization.
With my once-in-a-lifetime experience in India, I have begun a new phase on the path I have chosen for so many lifetimes. From now, I will be involved in the realization of concrete educational and healing activities for the Brotherhood. In the sequels that follow, my role in the Divine Plan, which is still a mystery, will unfold. Those who read this account will experience similar awakenings in their own lives and will hopefully join me in sharing this active implementation of the Divine Plan with me.
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