from old book of,
    Mariana Stjerna ‘on agels wings’ from -98. 



Mariana Stjerna.
ON ANGELS WINGS,

first published 1998 in swedish.

transformed or, sent, from spiritual or fine matter levels on the socalled other side, where the noe deceased, swedish writer, author, Jan Fridegård was the sending station. he- Jan Fridegård, (1897-1968) grew up as a farm laborer and tried several professions before the debut of his writings: One Night in July (1933). His autobiographical novel trilogy about Lars Hård is perhaps his finest work. The death of his father aroused a latent interest in the supernatural, which came to be reflected in The Tower Rooster, (1941).





Introduction from the receiving channel on the so called earth level, mariana, writes further.
When I was asked to write this book, I didn’t hesitate for a moment. My spaceborne companion, Jan, wanted to recount his personal experiences after his passing, from the moment of death up until now. He is a spirit with his own authoring history during his last incarnation here in Sweden. He is a happy and humorous person, but he also has profound experiences from the cosmic development. When he suggested that the name of this book would be On Angels’ Wings, I immediately associated this name with a memory from my childhood. I love watching the sky.


Sometimes the clouds are storming in dark flocks, duskily indigo-colored, with violet nuances. Sometimes a clear blue sky shines, covered with fleecy, fluffy, white puffs in enormous patches. When I was a young girl they were called “angel wings.” I always tried to catch sight of a “real” angel among the puffs. Sometimes there were gaps filled with light in the big, dark clouds, and then I believed that within there was a sea of light where angels flew around, looking down through the cloud-windows at the silly humans. When they observed all the misery on Earth, they closed up the gaps with the down puffs of their angel wings. When I asked Jan if he wanted to tell me about Paradise, he laughed heartily and answered, “Paradise, as it is perceived by humans, is not at all what you think. Everyone creates his own paradise – or whatever it is – with his thoughts.

I intend to start from the beginning, and the beginning for me means the end of my earthly life and the beginning of life before life.”


“Are you in Paradise?” I asked, somewhat naively. “Oh no, not me!” he answered. “Paradise as you see it doesn’t suit a prankster like me at all.”


He held up a flaming-red autumn leaf before my astonished eyes. “This is but a small part of a living code,” he continued, “a living code that can shed its form, but which in turn is a part of eternity. The leaf fades, but still lives in full splendor and beauty, just like us humans.


The closeness to Nature that humanity has lost today, is the key to her whole existence. If she loses that key, she will also lose the meaning of her life. She will be trapped in her ego, which will take over her thoughts and actions. She will become a victim of misguided and impure energies. Please let me tell you a story that will be the greatest of all the stories you have heard!”

Most humans are not only scared of death, they look upon it as a punishment or something horrifying. My hope is that this book will remove such emotions.

No one can prove that what I convey through Jan is the Truth – but can you really talk about proof in this context?


Let us be content with the fact that I am fortunate enough to be the spokeswoman for a soul who has given me the information and inspiration to write On Angels’ Wings. Now we are going to listen to Jan’s story – a story that he, himself, will tell you from beginning to end.


– Mariana Stjerna, (1921-2023),





1. The Crossing,

It was a long and laborious step from the gray and poor farm laborer’s cottage to the established and rather wealthy author I had become. As an old man I felt pretty content with my life, especially when I got to bandy words with colleagues and other loose people. I’ve never been afraid to tell the truth, even if the truth sometimes has been afraid of me. The ugly things in life have danced a waltz with the good and beautiful things, and that has suited me well. I have constructed my books in the same way that you build a stone wall: the biggest stones at the bottom and the smaller ones on the top, with some air in between. I have been a noisy person and I have scolded people until the evil weeds have caught fire. To rub people the right way has never been my style and will probably never become so, not even on the other side of the Light portal. If you think I exaggerate on occasions, then I ask the reader to try to understand me.


Here I don’t live on raw herring and potatoes, here our diet is of a different kind, so I mostly try to be moderate. But it is not “small potatoes” (as we say in Sweden) that this book will deal with, it is something tremendous and quite inconceivable. It is unbelievable and magnificent! We are going to travel in worlds where only one law applies: the Cosmic Law, where the harmonies meet the d isharmonies, to be perfected in a minor-major chord of fantastic beauty.

I have described my latest life on Earth in both autobiographical and educational books. But now I am going to tell you about my real life, the life I was born into the moment I breathed my last sigh on Earth. Now I understand that the miserable life in the farm laborer’s <cottages wasn’t as trying and laborious as it seemed to me at the time.


I became at one with Nature, as I, day by day, in sunshine and rain, tended my cattle and repaired fences or toiled at the hard soil. I learned to understand all the signs that Nature gave me in such ample amount. The different seasons’ abundance of new impressions and secrets were imprinted in the farm laborer’s open mind, even though he at that point didn’t fully understand the value of the school he resided in. Mine was the sky – cloudy, clear, or leaden and heavy with rain. Mine was the ground with its riches, even when the snow mercifully hid the deep hibernation of the plants, their struggle for birth, and return to the new spring, to the new, clear light. Mine was the marsh that wetted my tired and dirty feet – friendly in summertime and deceitful in other seasons. The trees were telling me of their fear of being slaughtered by money-mad parasites in human shape – and of their happiness, being able to stretch their crowns towards the sky. Bushes and brushwood told another story of a stinging world, full of hideaways for all sorts of creepy-crawlies.


It was wonderful to live at that time, but I didn’t grasp it back then. Much later I became friends with the poor farm boy in me and defended his right to be human in a society where birds of a feather were far from identical. I learned to accept but also to question – not to swallow hook, line, and sinker. The flowers are always to be found in summertime. They wink and flirt with their flower heads from the ditch-bank, because they know their place. The country road must be free of flowers. There the traffic shall rush by without seeing them. They exist, but they must not disturb the cold, gray stretch of smooth gravel or asphalt.


It is the same in life: The flowers are to be found at the side of the road. The question is whether you should take your time to stop and pick some of them, without ruining the wholeness of the landscape. I think it’s necessary that you do so, otherwise life will be transformed into an eternal freeway, without dreams and without beauty.


But now we are going to talk about my birth into a completely different life. I closed my eyes in my earthly life and stepped straight into the next one! That’s what I am going to tell you about, from the first moment of my “last” breath. How strange! I was breathing and felt bright and breezy! Yet, I was lying like some kind of graven image in my bed. I looked at myself and wasn’t happy about what I saw. ‘The old man has really aged,’ I thought, ‘and is as ugly as sin!’ Once I was a handsome man … No, I was not, I am! Where did this certainty come from, that I am what I am – Now? I turned my eyes from the old man Jan in the bed and discovered a thin, shiny, silvery thread running between him and me. ‘Exactly like a dog’s leash,’ I thought, and I laughed out loud. But the man at the other end of the leash didn’t laugh. He was lying there, as if dead. And suddenly I realized that that was exactly what he was: dead! ‘Then who was I? To be sure, I was him before, but now I am him, too!’ Well, occasionally you have read about things like that. Jan’s spirit, that was me! I didn’t feel any different – but I was very curious! Jan was dead – long live Jan! 


The “dog’s leash” was fixed. It is usually called the silver cord. I knew very well that I had to endure it for about three days. After that it would loosen by itself, like the umbilical cord of a newborn baby. In fact, I had read a lot about what happens after death. But now, when I was there myself, in the middle of the unknown, I felt a bit uncertain.

What does an Earth human really know about life after this, about life between lives? There are plenty of theories – such I have kept in abundance. But where should I go now? Where was the borderline between theory and knowing? People came into the room where the dead Jan lay – the “dead” Jan, who was alive! I recoiled and discovered that the silver cord could be stretched. I went out through the wall, and I thought a bit sarcastically about my book called The Tower Rooster. Would I do the same thing as the old man in the book – mostly hang on the outside of the tower – or would I get to do a longer journey? In that case, how was that to be managed? A pair of hands clutched mine. I was lifted through walls and roof, and I caught a glimpse of a large entity dressed in white that pulled me with him/her, gently but resolutely. The “dog-leash” was still there, but I didn’t care, because it obviously could be stretched quite a long way. We flew through the air like in some science-fiction novel. ‘Maybe there was some truth in such novels,’ I thought, who used to write very down-to-earth prose myself. I didn’t see any church towers and neither any landscape, the way you see it from an airplane. Maybe the clouds surrounded us, maybe it was some other fog, because my sight wasn’t clear. It grew dark now, and it felt as if we were going through a tunnel. I closed my eyes.


The hands of the unknown entity still clasped mine in a firm grip, and strangely enough, it felt safe and pleasant. I couldn’t help pondering over what was now happening to the other Jan, the one down on Earth. Was he to be buried in the cold soil or to be consumed by the flames of fire? Maybe it was more pleasant not to know. I decided to leave myself entirely in the hands of this being, who I understood must be an angel. Unless I hadn’t gone astray or down the wrong track, of course!


I couldn’t help smiling at that black-edged thought, and at that precise moment we landed. I opened my eyes, slightly afraid of being surrounded by a burning Gehenna. Instead, there was a vast plain where shapes were flashing by – thin and transparent, like vague figures. ‘Oh, I see,’ I thought a bit gloomily, ‘first you get to a kind of preliminary stage of purgatory. After that it’s all downhill, of course. But it probably serves me right!’


“Do I look like those?” I asked, and pointed at some ghost-like shapes gliding by. “Not at all,” answered my winged companion with a smile. “You look more like me!” I looked more closely at her. She was dressed in a long, pale garment. She had blond hair that reached her waist. Her large eyes were dark blue, like a summer-night’s sky. She didn’t seem as huge any longer, as I had first imagined. Or perhaps she had shrunk after our swift journey? She wasn’t transparent, but she gave an impression of lightness and litheness. I looked at my hands. They were still my hands, although softer and smoother. “My name is Jolith, and I am your guardian angel,” she continued. “Jan, your physical body is dead, but you are alive! As long as the silver cord still remains between you and your earthly body, your eyes will be veiled. When it is broken, we will see where your free will leads you. I will remain with you for some time yet, but the day will come when you won’t need me anymore.”


this beautiful art picture by Gilbert Williams can be a nice illustration of the guardian angel Jolith


“Where are you going, then?” I wondered curiously. “I will receive new tasks,” the angel answered evasively. She still held on to my hand. It felt like a “firm grip,” as my father used to say. He judged people by their handshake, and he couldn’t be bothered with what he called a “woman’s handshake.” “They feel like dead herrings,” was his rather harsh judgment. I experienced an intense longing for him. Why didn’t he meet me here, with his coarse humor and boisterous laughter, to show me around in Heaven? In case this was Heaven, of course.


It was a bit too primitive, in my opinion. And a little too foggy. I wasn’t yet entirely sure whether I had ended up in purgatory, which the priests have such a good hang of. Perhaps the priest at home in Uppsala was preaching about purgatory at my funeral right now? It wouldn’t surprise me, when considering how many bad words I have mentioned about priests. “This is only the beginning, Jan, and not the beginning you think,” the angel girl said, smiling gently. “It will feel different when the cord has come loose. Part of you is still on Earth. This is not what you would call Heaven.”


“Is there really a Heaven?” I asked, a bit mockingly. “There are many!” Jolith replied, and it flashed in the depths of her blue sea-eyes. “Just wait, and you’ll see!” Facing this bait, I had to surrender. In my entire earthly life I had been curious about what happens after death, and now here I stood completely dead on a foggy plain, holding hands with a beautiful girl, while faceless 

shadows were gliding past like a shoal of eels, seemingly without a goal in this colorless existence. “Am I going to live here with the shadows? Who are they?” I couldn’t help but ask. My angel girl was sweet as candy – her blond hair and rosy cheeks could have been painted by Botticelli. Was I dreaming? Was I really dead? Was this something that you used to call purgatory down on Earth? “No, my friend,” she answered my unspoken question. “The shadows you see haven’t liberated themselves from their earthly bonds, although their silver cords were loosened long ago. They are Earth-bound souls who are mourning their former existence. Some of them are lost, some of them are discontented and disappointed, and some of them are chained to their own sins and misfortunes. They refuse to move on.”


“But I want to move on, my beautiful Beatrice!” I jested, and my bright companion smiled openly and warmly. We looked at each other in mutual understanding, but suddenly Jolith pricked up her ears. She grabbed my arm and pulled me some distance away. The fog grew denser and rolled itself around us like a thick, grayish-white spiral. “Now you have become free from the silver cord,” the angel exclaimed. “We can continue now!”

“That certainly got on fast,” I pointed out, “Never have three days and nights disappeared so quickly!”


“Time doesn’t exist here,” Jolith objected. “Three days and three nights have passed on Earth. Can you understand that? I have been given the signal for us to proceed now. The poor shadows you see here don’t want to listen to their guardian angels. They prefer to wander about, homeless, as vague shapes until they understand that they have their free choice to evolve in a new world. Sometimes they are drawn by their own longing back to Earth. They cannot stay there, but they willingly wander about in the surroundings of their old life perpetually.”


“Is that what we call ghosts or lost souls?” I wondered. “Yes, they are the visible invisible ones,” was the answer. “They can actually mentally influence humans in the surroundings they choose to ‘haunt,’ whether they appear in dreams or show themselves in some other way. Sometimes the longing and the love for their old environment gives them an influence of positive force, but mostly this influence is negative, due to its own limitation and the fear response from its old surrounding. But now you have to proceed, if you don’t want to stay here among the shadows!”


Of course, I didn’t. Nevertheless, it might have been fun to haunt some people I knew my publisher and some of my old friends. Certainly they stood there at my graveside, hats in hand, and certainly they were drinking at least a couple of funeral feasts in my “honor.” But of course I was more curious to find out what was waiting for me “a bit higher up” or “further away” – whichever it was.


In the cloudy spiral, Jolith started to grow. She took me in her arms, where I rested as on eiderdown. At the same time, it felt as if I was lying in a mother’s womb with labor pains. I was infinitely small and curious about the world outside. Then all became dark for a moment – or for an eternity. Is there any difference in this state? 
chapter 2. My Joyful Valley.

When I awoke, life was smiling at me. Because what else other than life could bring me to such an idyllic place? I wanted to laugh out loud and dance around with my beautiful angel, who again was small and dainty.


She smiled and said, “Do it! Dance with me!” So we took a turn round on a sun-drenched flowery meadow, where fragrances and music seemed to be one, where the air vibrated with tones enclosing us in a breathlessly lovely embrace. We were as light as the air, but still I felt how my feet touched the dew glittering grass and how my right arm rested firmly around Jolith’s slender waist, while my left hand held her little hand in a warm and almost physical grip. It was a long time since I had been able to dance, and I enjoyed the clear tones from the invisible musicians and the pleasure of the frisky windborne dance. “Well, that’s that,” Jolith commanded in a determined tone.


“Now we must proceed. We’ve just danced into the valley where your last life began. Look around you!” Intoxicated by dance, music, and fragrances, I had totally forgotten to watch for where I was. I saw high mountains surrounding us in a closed circle. They were covered with moss and flowering trees in splendid colors, but their peaks were bare and shone in a wondrous way. It was as if the mountains had halos! ‘All Saints’ Mountains,’ I thought, with a smile. A river murmured forward in capricious nooks, until it tumbled in wild delight over a precipice and became a magnificent waterfall. Everywhere succulent, brilliantly-colored vegetation was seen. An earthly landscape in sublime form! “From here you decided to return to Earth and live your last life there,” the angel explained. “Here you have often resided between lives, because you are a part of this valley. You are the grass and the flowers, and the trees. You are the silent, watching mountains and the water that flows in gentle streams until it throws itself out into the creation of your next life. You have always loved this place, and still you don’t recognize it?”

“Oh yes,” I answered, amazed. “Now the memory is coming back to me! Here is my origin in my joyful valley. But how could I ever leave this paradise to go to hell on Earth?”

“You had to,” sighed my guardian angel. “You chose it because the experiences that your earthly life gave you were a condition for the path that you will walk now.”


“Will walk? Can I no longer decide for myself? I want to stay here. Who makes my decisions?”

“You have already a long time ago chosen to return to your origin, in order to bring your experiences from many lives and many worlds. Your own inner Self makes your decisions, but the Great Spirit shows the way.


Our dance was the joyful confirmation of the beginning of your new walk of life. Feel how life is flowing inside you!”

“In other words, the dance of circulation.” I laughed, and spun the girl round once more. “Are we going to stay here, or do we move on?”

“We have stayed here for a moment of eternity,” Jolith pointed out. “Now you will meet one of the Counselors who will accompany you for a very long time.” She floated towards one of the high mountains. I floated after her as well as I could – perhaps a little reluctantly. The more I saw, the more I wanted to see of this place. Why such a hurry? What kind of person had I been the last time I was here? How did I look? How did I think? Did I myself really choose to go down to Earth in the guise of a poor farm boy? Okay, perhaps it had been good for me not to be born to a snob. I wonder how I would have coped with that? I laughed at the thought and turned around to enjoy the brilliant panoramic view. Then I heard a deep man’s voice saying, “Well, Janne, you became a cultural snob anyway!” I turned around in surprise. In front of me stood a tall male figure in a light yellow cloak. His hair was white as snow, but his face was young and smooth. His profile was clear-cut. His features were chiseled as by a Hellenic artist and his dark blue eyes were deep and full of life. He looked at me searchingly, but with a friendly smile. I instinctively felt that he had a deep fund of humor. “It’s time for you to be confronted with yourself,” he continued. “What you have been and what you are will together form what you become.”


“Aha, the Akashic Records!” I exclaimed. “This is where all one’s stupid things are revealed, isn’t it? May I ask who you are?”

“My name is Zar,” he answered, and his eyes flashed. “Stupid things are not the only things you did, my friend. I will be your leader and teacher as long as you need me. The Akashic Records” (see the Cosmic Map at the end of this book extr.) “is a kind of intermediate stage between two worlds. Everybody must experience it. Afterwards it is decided which world you belong to – so we’d better get it over and done with.”


The walls of the mountain we had reached rose almost perpendicularly up to the sky. I still remember the lovely sunsets over the forested peaks of my childhood mountains. Here it was even more beautiful. The sky above the mountain glowed and adopted a most exquisite color of rose-red and salmon-pink with a touch of glittering gold. The man at my side touched the mountain with a staff. The mountain wall started to shake, and raised itself like a theater curtain. There was a small room behind it. It was furnished with comfortable chairs in front of what looked like an enormous movie screen, which went from wall to wall. The room was lit by a soft, pleasant light. Jolith brought me to an armchair and then she sat down on my right side while Zar sat to my left. Between us and the screen was a little podium with a lighted floor. From somewhere, soft music streamed out into the room.




“Are you ready?” asked Zar. “You have to be prepared for both pleasant and less enjoyable meetings. The main character here is the Truth – the Truth that has followed you through thousands of years.”


“The Truth about the country bumpkin Jan,” I chuckled.

“Go ahead! I know for sure what a rogue and rascal I have been.”

Zar gave me a peculiar look.


“Well, we do know that you like that rogue and rascal,” he said.

“To like oneself is an important quality for one who creates. How else do you think you would have become such an appreciated author? Soon we will see if Jan the human is a reflection of Jan the author – or vice versa. We will see what you regret and what you will forgive in yourself.”


I was just about to give him a sharp retort of what I regretted the most – something about beautiful women and seizing the opportunity – when suddenly the movie screen darkened. There was lightning and thunder, the rain was lashing over us in there inside the mountain room, but we didn’t get wet. We were sitting dry-shod in an unparalleled storm. The moist mountain walls were lit up by the flashes, and the granular surface of the walls sparkled as if it was sprinkled with diamonds. “Raise your consciousness!” Zar ordered, and put his hand over mine. Suddenly I felt how my earthly thoughts disappeared and my whole inner Self experienced a euphoric feeling of light and radiant colors: a happiness so great that tears of joy rolled down my cheeks. The storm had ceased and I saw the meadows and the forests of my childhood on the movie screen. I saw my mother giving birth to me and my father who was standing next to her chewing his mustache, proud and scared. Proud to have yet another son, but scared that my mother’s strengths would diminish. But everything went well. I saw myself grow up, my life as a man with his own family – wife, son, and daughter. I cried, felt ashamed, rejoiced, boasted of the good things in life, was appalled at the dark sides, happy to have come through them not taking them too seriously! “What a life!” I moaned during the breaks of laughter and tears. “Can you be forgiven such folly? Can you forget such injuries? Can you manage to proceed with that burden on your frail back?”


“Your back is strong, Jan!” answered Zar. “Now take your opportunity to say hello, because the meetings will be very short.” My mother, my father, and my beloved little sister were standing on the podium. They were as ethereal as I was, but when I rushed over to hug them, their bodies felt warm and substantial. All the time I had thought that I and everyone else were talking in the usual way. Not until now did it dawn on me in my poor head: Nobody was moving their mouths – neither Zar, the angel, father, mother, nor my sister. How about me? I was talking feverishly with my beloveds, but when I put my finger against my mouth, my lips weren’t moving. This was a shock! But when I saw the faces of my beloveds, I realized that they, too, had made the same remarkable discovery. At first I felt like a ventriloquist, but when my father laughed his boisterous laugh without making any noise, I understood that this new body didn’t work in the same way as the old, worn-out one. Unfortunately, the secure, well-known figures disappeared before I even had time to finish thinking. But new ones arrived. Human after human with more or less familiar faces from my life on Earth made their appearance on the podium. Some of them scolded me and then I enjoyed uncontrollably the fact that their mouths didn’t move. Wrongs, fights, and insolences filed past. Dear deceased close friends came forward to clasp my hand. But all these phenomena came to an end when the movie screen darkened again and the podium stopped shining. “Now we will go back to your previous lives,” Zar’s voice was heard. “We will see if you have evolved over the millennia.” I had been a monk in the fourteenth century and a gentleman with a powdered wig in a Swedish castle in the eighteenth century. I had been a fisherman in the Greek islands, where I sailed to meet death in an angry surge. I had been a Roman nobleman in the time of Jesus and a soldier in a poor Finland.


For each life that was shown to me, the memory thereof immediately came back. I felt characterized by these lives, but underneath it all lay the certainty that I was me. The changes were of external nature, but the innermost Johan Fridolf Johansson From, alias Jan Fridegård, was there all the time below the surface, fumbling, seeking, longing, and filled with his own special passion for justice. If I was a hunter, I was hunting injustices and duplicity. If I was a gentleman, I was hunting ladies. Jan was there all the time, although I had a thousand faces. It was a voyage on the sea of life that the author Jan even in his wildest dreams wouldn’t have imagined. 


Perhaps, however, my subconscious mind breezed forward occasional images of sweat and tears, or of strength and courage, even in my last life on Earth. I had already decided firmly to stay where I was. I felt that I had done my share on Earth. I had seen everything, experienced everything. To return to Earth would only be a repeat of the old – an overweight duck on a smooth and melancholy lake. Oh no, up here it was much more exciting! “Oh, so you want to stay here, Jan? And not go back to your dark green forests and your life as an author in the professed light of the city?” Zar looked amused at me and added, “Look here! This is an image of today’s Stockholm. Imagine how it would be to live there!” I looked in eager expectation for the restaurants Hasselbacken and Bellmansro to emerge in all their splendor, together with Operakällaren and Berzeliterrassen. Maybe I would follow a stroll with my eyes on the boulevard Strandvägen or Hamngatan up to the department store NK? Perhaps I would be allowed to make a trip to Haga and walk for a while among the old houses in Hagalund? But what did I see? The fright over the views that were shown, literally made my hair stand on end.


Was this our good old Stockholm, the city of Bellman and Evert Taube, with the alleys of Old Town and the twinkling heights of the Southside of town in quiet evening sun? There was chaos. There was violence, bustle, rush, and rough-mannered fellows who snatched handbags from old ladies and then kicked them. I saw children who hit children, children who couldn’t manage to be children anymore. I saw foreign images of drugs and boozing. Strangers, alienation, an inverted inner city completely without the old, friendly, warm atmosphere. Bawling and fighting everywhere. I didn’t want to see any more; I hid my face in my hands.


Desire to buy, covetousness, struggle for power and alienation; it was a future I never again wanted to see. “Don’t criticize!” Zar exhorted. “The cities are what time has made them to be. Nobody forces you back to that future. You still have your free will.” I don’t know if I sat a few hours or several days in the mountain room with the movie screen and the holograms. Everything that took place moved in a three-dimensional reality mixed with unreality. To be sure, time doesn’t exist here, so when we were finished we stood up as easily as if the performance had only lasted an hour. Zar asked me if I regretted anything from my lives. “How could I?” I answered. “All of it was a matter of development. I learned something all the time. But I have learned far from everything. Now I want to know more!”


“I accept your answer,” my friendly teacher said. “You are ready to proceed if you want to.”

“Is everyone who passes away allowed to look at their Akashic Records?” I asked. “Certainly,” Zar answered. “We have ‘movie theaters’ like this one in several places. Some people get severely shocked by their Akashic Records, because their memories return with every life they look at, many times unprocessed experiences, and it may be difficult things for them to relive. You did well because of your clear perception of your own self, which you have analyzed in book after book. But there are many roads to choose from after the Records, and if you want to proceed, then follow me.” 




"Are you ready?" asked Zar. "You have to be prepared for both pleasant and less enjoyable meetings. The main character here is the Truth – the Truth that has followed you through thousands of years."


"The Truth about the country bumpkin Jan," I chuckled. "Go ahead! I know for sure what a rogue and rascal I have been."


Zar gave me a peculiar look. "Well, we do know that you like that rogue and rascal," he said. "To like oneself is an important quality for one who creates. How else do you think you would have become such an appreciated author? Soon we will see if Jan, the human, is a reflection of Jan the author – or vice versa. We will see what you regret and what you will forgive in yourself."


I was just about to give him a sharp retort of what I regretted the most – something about beautiful women and seizing the opportunity – when suddenly the movie screen darkened. There was lightning and thunder, the rain was lashing over us in there inside the mountain room, but we didn’t get wet. We were sitting dry-shod in an unparalleled storm. The moist mountain walls were lit up by the flashes, and the granular surface of the walls sparkled as if it was sprinkled with diamonds.


"Raise your consciousness!" Zar ordered, and put his hand over mine.


Suddenly I felt how my earthly thoughts disappeared and my whole inner Self experienced a euphoric feeling of light and radiant colors: a happiness so great that tears of joy rolled down my cheeks. The storm had ceased and I saw the meadows and the forests of my childhood on the movie screen. I saw my mother giving birth to me and my father who was standing next to her chewing his mustache, proud and scared. Proud to have yet another son, but scared that my mother’s strengths would diminish. But everything went well. I saw myself grow up, my life as a man with his own family – wife, son, and daughter. I cried, felt ashamed, rejoiced, boasted of the good things in life, was appalled at the dark sides, happy to have come through them not taking them too seriously!


"What a life!" I moaned during the breaks of laughter and tears. "Can you be forgiven such folly? Can you forget such injuries? Can you manage to proceed with that burden on your frail back?"


"Your back is strong, Jan!" answered Zar. "Now take your opportunity to say hello, because the meetings will be very short."


My mother, my father, and my beloved little sister were standing on the podium. They were as ethereal as I was, but when I rushed over to hug them, their bodies felt warm and substantial.


All the time I had thought that I and everyone else were talking in the usual way. Not until now did it dawn on me in my poor head: Nobody was moving their mouths – neither Zar, the angel, father, mother, nor my sister. How about me? I was talking feverishly with my beloveds, but when I put my finger against my mouth, my lips weren’t moving. This was a shock! But when I saw the faces of my beloveds, I realized that they, too, had made the same remarkable discovery. At first I felt like a ventriloquist, but when my father laughed his boisterous laugh without making any noise, I understood that this new body didn’t work in the same way as the old, worn-out one.


Unfortunately, the secure, well-known figures disappeared before I even had time to finish thinking. But new ones arrived. Human after human with more or less familiar faces from my life on Earth made their appearance on the podium. Some of them scolded me and then I enjoyed uncontrollably the fact that their mouths didn’t move. Wrongs, fights, and insolences filed past. Dear deceased close friends came forward to clasp my hand. But all these phenomena came to an end when the movie screen darkened again and the podium stopped shining.


"Now we will go back to your previous lives," Zar’s voice was heard. "We will see if you have evolved over the millennia."

picture, 
I had been a monk in the fourteenth century.

and a gentleman with a powdered wig in a Swedish castle in the eighteenth century. I had been a fisherman in the Greek islands, where I sailed to meet death in an angry surge. I had been a Roman nobleman in the time of Jesus and a soldier in a poor Finland. For each life that was shown to me, the memory thereof immediately came back. I felt characterized by these lives, but underneath it all lay the certainty that I was me. The changes were of external nature, but the innermost Johan Fridolf Johansson From, alias Jan Fridegård, was there all the time below the surface, fumbling, seeking, longing, and filled with his own special passion for justice. If I was a hunter, I was hunting injustices and duplicity. If I was a gentleman, I was hunting ladies. Jan was there all the time, although I had a thousand faces.


It was a voyage on the sea of life that the author Jan even in his wildest dreams wouldn’t have imagined.


Perhaps, however, my subconscious mind breezed forward occasional images of sweat and tears, or of strength and courage, even in my last life on Earth. I had already decided firmly to stay where I was. I felt that I had done my share on Earth. I had seen everything, experienced everything. To return to Earth would only be a repeat of the old – an overweight duck on a smooth and melancholy lake. Oh no, up here it was much more exciting!


"Oh, so you want to stay here, Jan? And not go back to your dark green forests and your life as an author in the professed light of the city?" Zar looked amused at me and added, "Look here! This is an image of today’s Stockholm. Imagine how it would be to live there!"


I looked in eager expectation for the restaurants Hasselbacken and Bellmansro to emerge in all their splendor, together with Operakällaren and Berzeliterrassen. Maybe I would follow a stroll with my eyes on the boulevard Strandvägen or Hamngatan up to the department store NK? Perhaps I would be allowed to make a trip to Haga and walk for a while among the old houses in Hagalund? But what did I see? The fright over the views that were shown, literally made my hair stand on end. Was this our good old Stockholm, the city of Bellman and Evert Taube, with the alleys of Old Town and the twinkling heights of the Southside of town in quiet evening sun?


There was chaos. There was violence, bustle, rush, and rough-mannered fellows who snatched handbags from old ladies and then kicked them. I saw children who hit children, children who couldn’t manage to be children anymore. I saw foreign images of drugs and boozing. Strangers, alienation, an inverted inner city completely without the old, friendly, warm atmosphere. Bawling and fighting everywhere. I didn’t want to see any more; I hid my face in my hands. Desire to buy, covetousness, struggle for power and alienation; it was a future I never again wanted to see.


"Don’t criticize!" Zar exhorted. "The cities are what time has made them to be. Nobody forces you back to that future. You still have your free will."


I don’t know if I sat a few hours or several days in the mountain room with the movie screen and the holograms. Everything that took place moved in a three-dimensional reality mixed with unreality. To be sure, time doesn’t exist here, so when we were finished we stood up as easily as if the performance had only lasted an hour. Zar asked me if I regretted anything from my lives.


"How could I?" I answered. "All of it was a matter of development. I learned something all the time. But I have learned far from everything. Now I want to know more!"


"I accept your answer," my friendly teacher said. "You are ready to proceed if you want to."


"Is everyone who passes away allowed to look at their Akashic Records?" I asked.


"Certainly," Zar answered. "We have ‘movie theaters’ like this one in several places. Some people get severely shocked by their Akashic Records, because their memories return with every life they look at, many times unprocessed experiences, and it may be difficult things for them to relive. You did well because of your clear perception of your own self, which you have analyzed in book after book. But there are many roads to choose from after the Records, and if you want to proceed, then follow me."




chapter 3. The Process of Creation.

With light feet we left the mountain room and walked in a long passage illuminated by daylight. I don’t know for how long we walked side by side, pleasantly chatting, but suddenly the passage came to an end. We came out in a blinding light that first prevented me from seeing the surroundings. I shaded my eyes with my arm and then I discovered a being in front of us. I couldn’t see if it was a man or a woman, but it was a radiant being. I was filled with reverence and fell on my knees. Perhaps it was an archangel?


The being lifted me up with a friendly smile and I had a feeling that it was a woman. She had long hair shot with red, her eyes were deep and dark, and she radiated warmth and joy.


"Welcome, Jan!" she said with a smile. "I am not an archangel, but rather an angel and your teacher! My name is Shala, and together with Zar I will teach you the ancient wisdom and show you who you are and where you come from. The thirst for knowledge that you experienced already on Earth has brought you to us and to the Angels’ School."


Accordingly, this lovely being was a woman, and in the bargain my future teacher! Those were lessons to long for. But where was the school?


"Here!" answered Zar and threw his arms about. "You have just passed a tunnel to the Angelic Realm. From here you are going to experience your origin."


The blinding light had faded, and I looked around. Again I found myself in a kind of movie theater with three walls. The fourth wall was open, and I caught a glimpse of a beautiful garden outside. Images started to appear on the empty walls. Human figures floated out of one wall and into another. These figures were dressed in very old-fashioned clothes, and they were mostly reminiscent of Native Americans. At first the whole scene appeared to be a confused fluttering of beings with or without faces. Yet there was a certain rhythm to it all. Suddenly all of it became blacked out.


"You saw the first humans on their way to Earth," Shala explained. "The original inhabitants came from another planet. The knowledge that they conveyed at that time is still kept in the interior of the Earth, but so far it has not been the right time to introduce it to humanity. At the end of the twentieth century the Truth will be so necessary for humans that something or someone has to convey it to them, before the whole globe is blown up by their lack of wisdom."


"I can imagine that." I interjected gloomily. "The pollution of Earth had already begun when I passed away at the end of the 1960s. Both the inner and the outer pollution! What can you do about it? Do you want Earth to perish?"


"Of course not," the confident voice of Zar answered. "We work at high pressure to inform the inhabitants of Earth, and quite a few have started to listen. You belong to the ones who will be trained to have contact with an Earth dweller who can pass on this message. But for this task you have to undergo a lot of training, tests, and initiations."


"I don’t know if I’m good enough for that," I muttered. "Shall I have contact with someone on Earth? I would rather be spared that!"


"You are going to inspire a woman on Earth, who via your authorship combined with her own and her mediumship, will convey the Truth to humans," explained Shala.


"Do I have a good publisher up my sleeve, too?" I joked.


"We will try to arrange that." Zar smiled. "So in other words, you will remain an author even here. Does it appeal to you?"


"It’s not too bad," I replied mockingly. "If the lady in question is quick on the uptake and moreover behaves decently and appreciates my advice, it might work out.


"Will I see more of the Earth’s first inhabitants?" I continued.


"Eventually," Zar answered. "But first you will experience something completely different. You, yourself, will take part at the birth of Earth. You are as old as we are – billions of years! Let our consciousness be born together on a journey On Angels’ Wings! Let our souls wake up in the infinite sea of Oneness of the Great Spirit. You will experience what few human souls have seen. Jolith will bring us to the goal on her great wings. She has the gift to take shape as required, and we call upon her – now!"


I thought, a bit silly, that this was one better than the spiritual séances I had attended in my physical body. But before I had time to finish my thought my guardian angel appeared, now as a giant woman, and rolled me into one of her wings. Both my teachers were already sitting on the other wing. Before the macabre thought hit me that the dead man would embark on an adventure, we swept away straight through the wall and right into a kind of pulsating corridor. Where would we end up now?


The answer came more swiftly than what I had expected. A door was opened in the corridor and Jolith flew out through it, straight out into outer space. Everything was blue air, midnight-blue, clear air. There was no light, not the slightest ray of light! Yet I saw and I perceived. The wing where I sat unfolded, and before I had time to think, Shala held up a mirror in front of my eyes. I saw nothing in the mirror, absolutely nothing. At first I got scared. "Don’t I have a face any longer?" I was about to ask, as I recalled with regret the handsome soldier Jan who flirted with the girls on the open-air dance floor. But again I was on the wrong track of thinking, because it was extinguished, and I heard a voice whisper in my ear:


"Jan, you are a speck of dust in our Universe! A speck of dust has no thoughts, but you have the privilege of taking in and understanding what your teachers convey to you. Now look around in your newly awakened consciousness!"


A little push, and I slid down the wing, as if on some chute. The whirling reality that I blew around in was a Cosmos that resembled the night sky seen from our porch at home on a night without moon and stars. Of course, I didn’t think along those lines; I was only a newborn consciousness in a speck of dust on a dark blue night, where not even celestial bodies were to be seen. But there was a Power of Love in the making, and there were other, already finished Universes. The speck of dust Jan knew nothing of this, but the dancing wind brought voices that sang the song of Creation, even if I neither heard nor understood.


Then the Light came, and in it was the Power of Love. The Infinite Spirit that prevails over our Universe had divided its power, so that it flowed through the indigo-colored darkness. The speck of dust Janne was pulled into the Light and grew inside this living, creative, ensouled Light to an energy, a ray with a glimpse of a greater consciousness. But yet he was only very young energy.


The radiating Power of Love had come to our Universe to stay. A small breath from its glowing center was transformed into a tone – and the Sound was born. The Power of Love divided itself and became dual, male and female, yin and yang. Particles were thrown out of the Light and went out into space with a marvelous speed and force. Throughout eons of different evolutionary stages, they eventually formed stars and planets in our galaxy.



At First Came the Invisible Worlds

The breathing of Love from this tremendous Being started the Creation. At first the invisible worlds were created. All of the visible, physical celestial bodies are in reality young. Even younger was I when I took a rest in my own energy stream while The Highest Consciousness was in the act of working with the Process of Creation. I was there in the Light, and a remarkable scene was rolled up to my still dreaming consciousness. The invisible worlds were populated first. I was lying as an energy form, observing this unique act of creation. The dual characters of The Infinite Spirit only appeared as vague contours in the Light. Since I also only was light energy I could approach them, and then I perceived a thought that permeated their radiance. It was a beautiful thought that expressed a longing to populate the innermost light world with the same wonderful beauty that The Highest Spirit himself had brought to his Universe. This divine beauty was to be reflected in all that was created!


At first the Seraphim were created in the innermost vicinity of the Godhead (see the Cosmic Map). The tone that sounded in the Cosmos formed with its rings the most delightful beings. These beings became the servants of music, those who conduct the world of tones. It was a kind of mutual making, an origin of sound that eventually created the music of the spheres. The Seraphim were slender and transparent. Their fair hair floated around like a glittering light in an air that had not yet any sun, wind, or rain. They were the souls of the sacred music, and their whole existence was all about expressing the countless faces of Love in tones.


After that I saw the whole Angelic Realm emerge before my astonished “eyes,” which were not yet eyes, but merely perceptions. I was fidgeting, shaking myself and trying to tell the Universe that I soon wanted to be born. I wasn’t satisfied with fluttering about on energy waves without a body, without being able to communicate. I, too, longed to be created. But it wasn’t yet time for the energy waves. The angels got their special division in different Realms. There were seven Elohim and seven Archangels. To begin with, the Elohim were commissioned to govern planets and stars in the whole galaxy. The archangels became the creative order in the Angelic Realm.


There are thousands of different groups of angels, so a strict organization is required there. The Cherubim were the lightweights of Joy. They were – and are – messengers between the stars. I saw them emerge and develop into continuously happy and rosy small beings who always were willing to share their positive gifts with others. For a long time I rested in the light from the paradisiacal surroundings of the angels without understanding what I wanted, because I yet had no unique soul, but only formed part of the Oneness in the Light. 





The Fall of Lucifer

But there was a disturbance added in all this light energy. I only felt it as a cold draught in the Love energy where I rested. But my teachers told me with voices that were thoughts, that were perceptions, that were sensations in the sea of light. We were characters in an eternal existence until the winds of change came riding, when the centuries started to become centuries and it was time for the birth of the physical creation.


The following happened among the angels: One of the archangels, the one who was called the Light Bearer or Lucifer, became wrathful because he thought his power was too limited. He made demands, which were refused, because the prevailing order could be disturbed. In a fury, he left his position as an archangel and created his own kingdom. Many angels followed him, because he was greatly loved. They believed he had been expelled from the heavenly abodes. But his brothers and his Father couldn’t understand what suddenly was the matter with him. No one decided anything without the consent of the Father. Why wasn’t he satisfied with his fortunes to pass on the Light, to nurture it, and to develop it? In the beginning Lucifer was not evil, just haughty. He never planned to leave his Father’s house for good. His brothers were prepared to hug him lovingly when he came back. But neither he nor any of the angels that followed him returned.


In Lucifer’s new kingdom there was a kind of light eclipse, and out of it evil emerged. Slowly but steadily, creeps and wretches were created that should never have been allowed to exist, and at the head of them Lucifer created a leader. From the beginning it was a defiant game, but the leader became evil because Lucifer, as a result of his escape from the heavenly surroundings, had lost his gift to create in love. Love didn’t reach into his kingdom. The leader had horns like a goat, and he was called the Evil One or the Devil. He grew in power and strength, and soon he usurped power in Lucifer’s kingdom. He imprisoned the former angel and put him in a castle on the outskirts of the kingdom, where he would sit to this day if his regret during thousands of years finally had not brought him back to the Angels of Light. Now he is forgiven, and he works at saving the Earth. Nobody knows the roads of evil better than him, and therefore he is particularly suited to oppose it. 




Yin and Yang – Duality and Polarity

Since I, Jan, beyond the floating light energy had a soul that experienced all this as a repetition of life, I put questions to both my teachers. I could hear them and perceive their nearness, but not yet see them. I wondered how the angels were created from the beginning, if they had different genders or how they otherwise multiplied.


With a soft laughter, Shala’s voice answered me: “You have experienced the first tone and keynote. At that time motion already existed in the Universe, and in this motion we found ourselves as more and more conscious energies. From some of these energy rays or energy points, the Great Spirit created the angels. Exactly how it happened is impossible to know. He simply brought the ability to create from his own origin. Before human beings were created, the angels were just angels. Later they were divided into many different groups. Right from the beginning there were male and female angels, but also hermaphrodite beings. There must always exist two poles, yin and yang, since the Great Spirit is also dual. The duality and the polarity are included as laws in our Cosmos.


The Love between all His creations is so strong that it unites them all, and the multiplication that takes place is not the same as the one man refers to with the words “sexual act.” A process of creation of unparalleled beauty takes place with the angels. Amid song, music, and colorful plays of light, the duals are united in such a way that a new angelic being is formed. “The angels have, like humans, diversified gifts, and they are given their tasks according to their special talents. They themselves have built up the Angelic Realm from the beginning. When you get to see it, you will probably be amazed at its resemblance to Earth, both with regards to Nature and settlements, although in clearer colors and lighter materials.” 




The First Humans – The People of the Sun and the Stars

“But how were humans created?” was my next question. “Was it as the Bible tells, that Adam was the first human and Eve was created from his ribs?”

“There is no similarity whatsoever between what your Bible says and the original, ancient Truth,” answered the voice of Zar. “You will experience the Truth eventually, you little spark of energy in the great Light! We are with you now, as we were then.”


Suddenly I felt myself pulled out of the light, where I had been floating around for so long, and I was led into another, softer light. A large and indescribably beautiful shape was talking, and the words were echoing in me like a booming trombone. I felt a reverence on the verge of sacred worship. I just wanted to float into this tremendous Being of Love.


“I have created the angels in beauty and harmony,” explained the Divine One. “They are the most beautiful ones I know. Because I love them so highly and they are images of my power, I want to create the inhabitants of the planets to be their equals. There are already planets where species live who have come into existence through development. They have no souls, but are very technically gifted. Now I want to give the soul a dwelling that is worthy of all the love, beauty, and joy it contains, and therefore I say, ‘Let There Be Man!’”


The gigantic accumulation of energies which, like magnets, had been pulled to the enormous, radiating shape of the Creator, all quaked when a wonderful tone accompanied his words and burst into something that I could liken to giant fireworks. These fireworks were firing in the middle of the strong cosmic light. From this sparkling, flashing, fantastic light, characters came swimming, floating, and gliding. At first I felt like a spectator, but then I felt myself growing. I looked down at my body. I had been given a body! It wasn’t yet distinct and dense, but it had a head, arms, and legs like the other beings that crowded around me. We were surrounded by lovely angels who were singing and dancing and spreading their wings around us. Next to me, both my teachers floated. They were also a little diffuse, but fully recognizable. They took my hands, and in the twinkling of an eye, in a fraction of a second, we were transferred from the sunny energy waves of this indeterminable existence to a ground made of soil and clay, of foaming waves in a clear-blue sea and rustling in lofty treetops. 




Zio and the Migration to Earth

The angels stayed with us for some time in order to show us the way about. We had come to the planet of the “Indians”: the magic, beautiful, windswept Zio that was one of the first inhabited planets in our solar system. It was not time for Earth yet!


I was not born from a mother’s womb, I was born from the energy fusions of the Light, and so it was for all of us. We were thin, light beings who suddenly had been placed on a physical ground, even if Zio’s ground didn’t possess our Earth’s degree of density. Before I was “planted” on Zio, our Earth was partly a glowing mass that floated in outer space together with other globes. There were no square or elliptical planets. The globe – i.e., the circle – was the sign of the eternal origin. We looked at each other. We observed each other. We were yin and yang. We observed the angels. We listened and learned. We were all so beautiful! Our hair, that in the beginning had been fair and almost without color, darkened more and more in those early days on Zio. Our features were no longer identical; our looks were as different as the streaming waters of the turbulent rapids in our new forests.


When we got as far as building houses, digging in the light soil and piling up the shimmering stones on top of each other, our appearances were more and more characterized by different traits. It became apparent that in our consciousnesses were many different talents and gifts. One was artistic, another was musical, and a third was a gifted craftsman.


The angels showed us how to build, how the women could weave and sew, how we could use the wild animals and tame them to be domestic animals. There existed no evil, no quarrel about our daily bread, which became all the more substantial. On the other hand, there was a lot of love, joy, and fellowship. All the time we remembered the Great Spirit, and the angels reminded us if we forgot. But yet I wasn’t Jan, the poet and the joker standing at the gate to the Ethereal World telling stories to his earthly friends.


If you hear somebody say, “Jan has gone up many steps and traveled across many levels,” then it’s wrong. There are no steps and no levels here, only an infinite Oneness of different Realms and sections. Study the Cosmic Map at the beginning of this book, dear readers. In the middle is the Infinite Spirit who floats above everything in order to supervise his creation. “Don’t pile it on too much,” Shala butted in on me. “You were telling us about Zio. What happened there? Did you become completely physical?”


“Yes,” I answered, “but it took time, even though time didn’t exist there either. We lived in a kind of frequency beyond all computation of time. I know that you and Zar belonged to the angels who helped us. But we didn’t create any religion from the knowledge we received. We were true to the Great Spirit and his laws of Love. “The glowing mass that remained on Zio was covered with mountains and soil, and the planet grew more and more physical.


Our thin bodies, which until now had worked to create a habitable planet, became, as I mentioned, more compact and more visible. We became something to grab, that could create and form with body and soul in harmony, to laugh, to smile, and to cry – but only with joy, because sorrow was not yet invented. “When we were standing one day on the luscious green grass, with the wind rustling trees growing up around us offering us lovely fruits, we felt like dancing and singing.


The interaction with the Beings of Nature was important on Zio. Every tree, every flower, the high mountain, and the singing rapids all had their devas, and we all talked the same language. We constantly communicated with them, exchanged confidences, and helped each other in every way. “We were proud of our descent from the Great Spirit. He was our one true ruler. We revered the dual Flame of Life, and in spite of our spreading across the great planet, our rituals resembled each other. We were dependent on the Sun, which for us was holy, as was the Moon.


We had Sun- and Moon-dances, star-festivities, and the celebration-days of the Great Spirit. Death was unknown to us. Each life lasted about a thousand years, and then we went through a reviving process and started all over again! We were created from living energy, and therefore we were in contact with all other living energies in the entire Cosmos.


“Why do I call us Indians?

It’s because I want to make it easier for the reader to understand our origin, because it extends all the way to the Native American tribes of today. The expression ‘Indian’ is totally incorrect, as you probably know. It was created by Columbus when he landed in the fifteenth century on the coast of America and presumed he had arrived in India. Our real name is ‘The People of the Sun and the Stars’ and the Native Americans of today call us ‘Mu luwetam,’ the first people. We lived in symbiosis with the whole Cosmos until the big catastrophe happened. 


“A meteorite was on its way straight towards Zio. We were situated in the middle of our galaxy. When this happened, Earth was at about the same physical level as Zio, but it had no human inhabitants. The damage to Zio was unavoidable. The meteorite struck with a terrible force on one side of our unfortunate planet. We had calculated the approximate impact point and we had evacuated half our planet.


Already at that time there were what you call UFOs, and we got messages from the Great Spirit that those who were evacuated, would go further on and inhabit planet Earth. I was one of those ‘refugees.’ Zio was badly hurt. Due to the awful thrust, the planet was sent so many light years away that it ‘landed’ on the outskirts of our galaxy.


There it still remains and, according to the messages we receive from there, it has regained most of its former appearance, except for a gigantic sea that was formed where the meteorite struck. “So, we emigrants landed on Earth. Flora and fauna spread their pristine abundance among mountains and waters. In those days, Earth had more water and fewer high mountains than Zio. One animal species was so humanlike that it was walking upright and had developed arms with hands that could grip. The intelligence of these animals was limited, but they lived an unobtrusive life in an environment that most closely resembled the rain forests of our time.


“We, who were created in the image of angels, became the first human inhabitants on Earth. We tried to live as we had been taught on our own planet, and we spent a long time on construction in great fellowship. But our new life wasn’t completely without problems. Many of our young women were abducted by the human-like apes. Children were born and they were the mixture that became the basis of present-time humanity. We tried to make friends with them, but soon jealousy and envy arose within this ‘hybrid race’ and their hatred was directed against us. “Suddenly death became a fact that we couldn’t ignore. The lives of the ape humans didn’t even last a hundred years. We couldn’t understand that. We isolated ourselves from them and built embankments to prevent them from encroaching on our ground.


With that, ownership and hostility were established on Earth. We who had been living protected in our own immortality and with our strong laws of Love – we became weak and vulnerable. The new way of thinking brought illness and death. The lifespan diminished. The incarnation-cycle changed to its present state: a life of approximately one hundred years, and periods of living in other worlds between lives. In this way, the Worlds and Realms outside the Ethereal World on the Cosmic Map were formed. Like that, humans started to become humans!” 





4. The Lost Millennium Kingdom

It was almost terrible for the observing Janne-self to get a higher awareness of what had happened to me from the time of the birth of Earth – and even further back. Still it felt like I had a piece of soil from Earth in my pocket, and my astonishment before the experiences at the Angels’ School was almost mixed with a feeling of fear. I had learned so many new things, and not all of them were positive. Such news was that planets in other galaxies had developed a kind of strange gods. They were highly evolved beings with knowledge far beyond the human level. They had the ability to create – and they created! Their work wasn’t malicious, but they controlled energies between the planets that opened new paths for humans. On one of the stars of Orion was a power-hungry ruler called Godonda. He dreamed of conquering Earth, and therefore he traveled to our planet in order to subdue the tribes living there. He wanted to be looked upon as a god, and he succeeded by frightening the humans to worship.


In his wake followed all the minor deities, who actually were the lords of various phenomena. For long periods of time the good God who we call the Great Spirit was neglected, because Godonda promised power and glory to those who followed him. That was not the way of the Great Spirit. He talked to the hearts of humans and gave them free will. Unconsciously free will was imprisoned in Godonda’s power, and humans were led in the wrong direction from the beginning.


Godonda divided the humans into different religions – for instance the Nordic Asa faith, the Greek and Egyptian belief in gods, Judaism, etc. – so that the Great Spirit would lose his foothold. But he didn’t, he waited and bided his time and sent down one of his highest angels to Earth in order to teach humans how to live according to the Laws of Love. Godonda’s minor deities, for instance the Nordic, the Greek, and the Egyptian ones, became ambassadors in Islam, in Buddhism, and in Mohammedanism. There are gods in cultures all over the globe, but the One, Infinite Spirit has been abused under the name of “God.” In the name of “God,” brother is baited against brother, and father against son. In the name of “God,” the worst crimes are committed, where hatred and violence walk hand in hand with war and profits of all kinds. I have read many books about Creation in my earthly life. Even more of them have probably been released since then. Books on Creation flood the market, and all of them say different things and use different terms. While I was pondering this, Zar intervened in my thoughts. “Stop it, my friend,” he warned me in a friendly way. “All the books you are talking about are true in their own way. By everything being a Unity, and everything being part of this Unity both from a cosmic and a planetary point of view, then everything is positive. Every Truth is valid as a Truth if it originates from an honest, wise, and loving heart.”

“But how will you be able to understand, then?” I protested. “What a mess it becomes if you accept everything! Where does Godonda come into this Unity?”

“You must take in what your heart tells you is right. Keep in mind that the knowledge you acquire in the Angelic Realm is dancing a line-dance in the Cosmos, and that this dance includes both gods and humans, now and then and later on. Each has its place, its task, but only a few will succeed in striking your heart with Cupid’s arrow.”

“Everything is so new to me, but I believe you.”


“That is why Shala and I are at your side. What has been shown to you in images and in experiences is our version of the Creation, as we and you have experienced it. Other consciousnesses will perhaps feel everything in a different way, and then they will come up with another story. An opal contains many colors: for one person it appears to be mostly blue, another person only sees the rose-colored tinges, and a third one claims that the stone is green. There are so many variants of the same thing.


Don’t get hung-up on the little things; always try to see the wholeness. The details are everywhere, but they don’t form a wholeness until they are put together. For you, millions of years were a very varying sea of perceptions, light- and sound-experiences. Now, continue with your memories from the first time on Earth.”


“I remember that we lived in villages where we had a ‘mother’ and a ‘father’ who showed us the way about. They kept their ethereal form longer than the rest of us. We were allowed to keep our thousand-year-long lives as long as we didn’t fall victim to the human apes or didn’t catch any of the diseases that nowadays are regarded as human qualities: hatred, envy, jealousy, greed, lust for power, etc.


The innermost groups of The People of the Sun and the Stars had to meet secretly in sacred places that were hidden in caves or underground. We could never be sure that the ape people or wild animals would not attack us – but it was easier to handle the wild animals than 

the wild human beasts. “Some of the original sacred places where our groups assembled still remain today. They are located in Canada, New Mexico, Peru, the Andes, the Himalayas, the North Pole, and the South Pole. Even if sea and land areas have moved and totally changed their position, these places apply approximately. We have left memories behind that humans still haven’t managed to interpret. More discoveries will be made in the future.


“When a human had reached the limit of a thousand years, he or she had to go through a ritual before the ‘refreshment.’ If the person could pass the tests that were imposed, they would continue into the next thousand-year period. More and more of us failed. We called them ‘emigrants.’ I never thought I would be one of them – not until my ‘fall’ was a fact.


“The eternal female has always captivated me, captured me, and led me into a butterfly-dance that sometimes ended badly. Perhaps the boy Jan had begun to awaken in me even in those days, because one day, when I was walking in the countryside near my home, I caught sight of a human girl with long, golden hair. I realized she was a daughter of the ape people’s mixtures. She was very beauteous, sitting near the brook, washing her feet. When I passed very near her she playfully splashed some water on me. The whole thing ended badly. Did she seduce me or I her? I hardly had time to think before she disappeared like a flash without telling me her name. I got a bad conscience and never told anybody about it. I pushed it down in my subconscious mind as if it never had happened.


I loved my sunny family at home, the whole group of loving humans who carried the same ancient wisdom as I did. “Some time afterwards – a few months, maybe a couple of years – I met the girl with the golden hair again at the same brook in the same forest. Again I was driven towards her by a consuming fire, and once more she awakened my young male power in something between lovemaking and fighting. I tried to get rid of this raging hot current that flowed into me at the sight of her half-naked body. The current became a sea of love-agony, hotter than all conceptions of hell, filled by an insatiable hunger – an obsessed current that like the lava from a volcanic eruption was rolling down the warning slopes of my senses.


When the fire slowly cooled down and we were lying on the grass in each other’s arms she suddenly loosened herself and disappeared like the last time. But after a short while she returned with a small child: a white-skinned boy with rosy cheeks and eyes of small blue seas. ‘My son,’ I thought. ‘My son with this wonderfully wild woman of the primeval forest?’


“Before I had time to calm down, the whole picture vanished and I slowly floated in towards the temple where we performed the thousand-year ritual. There my judgment awaited me.”

“You didn’t pass your test,” I was told. “Why did you make the same mistake again? Somewhere in the wasteland beyond our forests the woman with the golden hair now lives together with the son she bore you. You must find them. You may not remain in our group. You will not be a thousand years old, you are vulnerable, and your life can never last longer than one hundred years. In most cases Earth humans die much earlier than that for various reasons, but that will be your experience.


Remember, my son, that we love you very much, but you have to leave us. One day you will meet us again in another light world and then you may choose for yourself what you want to do with your eternal life. Until then, farewell!”


Lucifer created a new world for himself when he was rejected. Now it was my turn. But my world was not evil – only filled with strong earthly feelings: the wild fever of sexuality and the cold graves of disappointment and selfcontempt. I set off walking and tried to bring forth the happy, careless fellow, the clown and joy-bringer within myself. But underneath jokes and laughter, which became more and more coarse in the world of the Earth humans, was the sad and lonely wanderer. My walk was alone and adventurous. The memory of the other world here on Earth hurt for a long time. I searched for the truth. I searched for the golden hair and the blue-eyed child. When I finally, after many years of searching, found them, she was living together with an ape-man. She had given birth to several children, and my son was no longer among them. I wanted to go on looking for the boy, but the ape-man killed me. He represented evil and jealousy – that is the Godonda-power. That was my first death, before all the other thousands of deaths.


I lost the Millennium Kingdom and had to wait until the present century to get back my immortality in a time that doesn’t exist! Upon returning to the Angels’ School where I acquired all this knowledge about my “fall,” I admit that it was a shock to find out that I had failed at such an early stage of my own “heavenly play.” 



The Tale of Toja

I wandered through many kingdoms, some of them dark, some of them light, but in most of them the inhabitants lived a calm and strenuous life, with a chief or a ruler leading them. These kingdoms were eventually called “tribes.” As you wander about aimlessly, you get to listen to many strange stories. There are various tales of the Flood, not only about old Noah or the Gilgamesh epic of the Sumerians, but many others, which I believe prove that great floods really have occurred during several epochs of Earth’s history.


I was particularly attached to one of these legends – that mostly is about a woman, for a change. It is a beautiful and sad tale that shows the triumph of the male self-esteem, and into the bargain a very dishonest triumph! When this tale begins, The People of the Sun and the Stars had already established their kingdoms on Earth, many thousands of years ago. The big disruption had started. Humans had gone too far in their desire for power and envy, which led them further on the path of evil and crime. The fight for power was at its worst in a kingdom that was surrounded by the sea but which covered a vast area. In this kingdom lived a woman called Toja, with her husband and three children – two sons and one daughter. Toja was a lineal descendant of the goddess Helia’s family (see Chapter 16), and her knowledge of the potentialities of the inner world was entitled to respect. The inhabitants of this kingdom regarded her as a very wise woman.


Her husband, Mendor, was not as gifted as she was. He worked with the soil, which was fertile and yielded rich harvests. Their two sons, Jap and Sojn, helped their father, but they also willingly listened to wise advice from their mother. From the time the boys and their little sister Ilva were born, they got to listen to their mother’s remarkable stories every evening. The father, however, dismissed these stories as women’s gossip, but they consisted of legends where courage, strength, and love always led to the right paths and where evil lurked and had to be chased away.


One day civil war came to the country. The inhabitants turned against each other, they told tales about each other, and made fowls of no feathers. Their hatred and envy resulted in mutual informing and reporting of closely related persons and a whole succession of murders and executions. Toja and her family lived on the coast. One day she got an inner message telling her that the hour of reckoning was near for her people. The inner voice commanded her to build a house with a floatable base – a kind of houseboat. She informed her husband of this message, but he just laughed and called her a crazy woman. However, Toja’s sons had heard what she said to their father. They were strong and clever teenagers, both of them. Ilva was only ten years old, but all three of them helped their mother build the boat. It took them several months.


Mendor scoffed at them and made fun of the houseboat. He assured them that if they launched the houseboat it would immediately sink. Ilva and Toja brought the timber, and the boys did the carpentry and hammering. When the boat was standing there ready, the inhabitants of the village came to see it and laughed scornfully at it. But Toja remained silent, because she had been told that the boat must be launched the following morning. Then their adventurous voyage would begin. The inner voice commanded her to collect a male and female animal of as many kinds as she could find, and bring them aboard the houseboat. Her children helped her as always, while her husband and the villagers carried on scoffing at them. Some of the spectators tried to board the boat for a prank, but as soon as they came near it, it was as if an invisible wall prevented them. They began to mutter about sorcery and evil powers, but it didn’t help. What was meant to come aboard came aboard – nothing else.


Mendor fled into their old house when he noticed the envy and repugnance that the villagers showed towards his family. There he was safe, because nothing worked against either their house or the houseboat, neither fire nor steel. At last the villagers slouched away, but they threatened to return the next morning. The next morning at dawn, the whole family except Mendor boarded the houseboat. He refused to follow them on such a mad ride. Toja’s heart ached when she saw his lonely figure on the beach, while the houseboat floated on the waves as if it was created for them. She asked her inner counselor if she was allowed to return to fetch her husband. The answer was yes, but it came with a serious warning. Her husband’s heart was not pure enough to follow her destiny. If she acted out of love the counselor couldn’t refuse her this, but the consequences could be completely different than what was predetermined. Toja loved her sullen, ignorant husband and she asked her sons to turn back. They did so reluctantly, but Ilva cried and yelled, “Mother, this will bring us bad luck! Don’t turn back!” But the boat turned back and fetched Mendor. He was taken aboard against his will, shouting and kicking. At last he gave in to his wife’s earnest entreaties and declarations of love and he sat down sullenly at the helm. Barely was Mendor aboard when the surge appeared, and it was not just any surge, It was a wave that covered the whole horizon and that crossed the country at a furious speed and drowned the whole kingdom with its enormous force.


Toja’s houseboat cleaved right through the wave and out on the other side. There the boat rested quietly and peacefully and made itself comfortable on the mirror-like water. Toja knelt and deeply thanked the good Power that had saved the lives of her family. Meanwhile, as all this happened, Mendor fell asleep. Toja carefully loosened his grip on the helm and took over. Her inner voice showed her the right direction. She steered straight into the rosy arms of the sunset. Everybody on the houseboat fell asleep. When they woke up, the houseboat was floating peacefully in a shallow ripple near to a bright strip of land. Lots of humans were standing on the beach, waving their hands.


To her surprise, Toja saw that they were the same skin color as her: the reddish color warmed by the Sun. Her husband was as pale as the Moon, but the skin colors had been very mixed in their former kingdom. The humans on the beach honored them with flowers and aromatic twigs of an unknown herb. Apparently, they were expected. Toja let out all the animals from the lower part of the houseboat. They attracted an enormous attention on the beach. The people knelt and banged their heads in the sand and sang and laughed. Toja realized that she and her family were mistaken for gods, not least of all because of the unusual animals. These people obviously didn’t know any of the species that had been living in the family’s former kingdom. And soon it was obvious that Toja’s husband, Mendor, was honored as a strange high god, perhaps because of his pale skin color.


The family soon realized that they had landed in a place where the people were loving and benevolent, with an ancient culture – but without a leader. When the houseboat arrived, the leader of the people had just died, and there was no successor to him. Mendor was mistaken for a gift from the gods to the people. He was put on a flowery throne, and his newly appointed subjects fussed over him and fulfilled all his wishes. Toja and the children were also met with much respect and friendliness, but it couldn’t be denied that Mendor was the principal figure – and that suited him! He shamelessly took advantage of his new position, and his wishes solely satisfied his ego.


Toja’s inner voice asked her if she now understood why Mendor should have been left to the devastation of the surge. It had been intended that Toja would be “the goddess,” who lovingly would lead the lost people in the beautiful new kingdom. Her son, Jap, had inherited her ability of inner vision and was meant to succeed her. Through her misdirected compassion, she had now turned the energies in the wrong direction. The inner voice was very distressed, but Toja stubbornly insisted that her beloved husband certainly would rule the country in a good way. In addition, she was at his side, and she would help him lead all future projects. But soon Toja became aware that her voice didn’t count. Mendor chose the most beautiful women at his court, and he lived a promiscuous life with them in luxury and abundance. Toja grieved, and her sons became more and more irritated at their father. Many moons had not shown their pale yellow rays when Toja was given the message to appear before her husband. He glared at her from top to bottom and complained that she had disturbed an important meeting the other day. In reality, she had surprised him when he was in bed with two women, and that had really upset her. Her inner voice had asked her to take the helm in the kingdom before things went the same way as they had in their previous homeland. Strengthened by the strict exhortation of her inner voice, Toja dared to reproach her husband for his loose living, and attract his attention on necessary measures required in the kingdom. Mendor immediately commanded her to kneel in front of his throne. She obeyed out of love for her husband, unaware of his plans. Before she had time to ask him for an answer, the sword of the executioner fell down on her neck and separated her head from her body. Toja, who, like Noah, had brought an ark into port in order to save a part of the Earth’s species, was sacrificed because she was a loving and defenseless woman. It was the first time the white man had removed the rightful owner from her lot by violence – the first time of many, many. 


Toja’s children had been silent and horror-struck witnesses to what had occurred. Jap brought his sister and brother and escaped out into the woods and then up into the mountains, far away from their father’s reign of terror. When they stopped at a clear and fresh mountain stream to quench their thirst, Jap heard his mother’s voice loud and clear: “Walk straight ahead until you see a small hut. Enter the hut and greet politely the man sitting on the earthen floor. Tell him my name and then let him speak.” The children did as their mother said, and sure enough, they arrived at a strange hut, built in front of a large cave. The man in the sun-yellow cloak greeted them with kindness and compassion and gave them plenty to eat. His name was Ulon, and he was a very wise man. He lived hidden from Mendor’s dispatched men, because he knew that better times were to come. He loved his people but complained about their weakness and lack of courage. The children stayed with him for many lunar months, and he taught Jap a secret form of combat. He made Jap a warrior – not just any warrior, but a warrior of Righteousness. When Jap was ready, Ulon sent him back to his father. Mendor was unprepared for the appearance of his son and immediately called for his guards. Jap just stood there, looking at his pitiful father. Mendor’s head started to nod and he looked as if he fell asleep, but he had a horrible expression on his face. Finally, he fell flat on the floor. He was dead. His evil power had been unable to resist Jap’s good power. Those who witnessed this scene proclaimed Jap as his father’s successor at once. The inhabitants in this kingdom were used to obeying someone, or it would be chaos. But Jap became a good leader for his people. He called for his sister and brother and Ulon, and together this quartet governed the kingdom until it became a model for other countries. And you could say that it was Toja who indirectly accomplished this happy ending and that her mission was fulfilled after all.


That’s how this tale was told to me, and I think it is more interesting than Noah’s Ark. So, I prefer to sing “Mother Toja, Mother Toja was an honored wife.” [Translation note: rather than “Old man Noah, Old man Noah was an honored man.” Swedish song originally written by Carl Michael Bellman.] This legend anyhow shows that the antagonism between the red and the white races started much earlier than we have imagined. At the same time, we shouldn’t forget that Toja’s children were a mixture of red and white, and that mixture resulted in a peaceful and loving outcome. 






5. The Nine Elders of Sirius

Without me knowing it at that time, the Nine Elders had a great influence on my future destinies. They belong to the most ancient wisdom teachers and they were on Zio from the beginning. The Nine Elders are made up of both male and female teachers, and nowadays they reside on the Central Sun on Sirius, from where they go on occasional excursions to those planets where they are needed. Their names are not known on Earth because if they were, they would immediately be used in the wrong way by the power-seeking profiteers. The Nine Elders are only subordinate to one “higher instance”: The Great, Infinite Spirit. After the initiation that I didn’t pass, I wandered for a long time, sad and lonely. After the crossing when the ape-man had murdered me, I was immediately hurled away to be born by an Earth woman. I had to go through a lot of tests and trials, because the Nine Elders followed my destinies until the day when I would be able to return to my brothers and sisters in the Ethereal World. But it was a long way to go.


Not until now have I arrived. In one of my earthly lives, I was privileged with the dubious pleasure of being born as the son of a ruler. In that life, I physically met one of the Nine Elders, a remarkable woman. We can call her Helia, since she appeared like a sun in a dark world. She was the one who is called “Spider-Woman” by the Native Americans. According to their faith, she is the Mother who weaves the web of life. It was Helia’s task to create light and joy on Earth. Already at that time humans used their free will to subjugate the will of their neighbors. But Helia sent out love and true creative power, because the Nine Elders had decided to make a new attempt with the inhabitants of Earth. Helia succeeded in her task. Never have there been accomplished such brilliant buildings, never did humans have such good lives and were as strong and beautiful as when she held her hand over them. She sent out troops of light everywhere, and I was one of her faithful commanders. I remember her wrath and her grief when we failed to create lasting light somewhere.


I remember when I and the other Light bearers were sitting in a ring with her, making plans. She was tremendously beautiful, but her beauty was not exciting. It was more like a calm lake in the forest, where you could refresh yourself. At the same time, her radiance gave power to all in her vicinity. Her knowledge and insight was an inexhaustible stream, and we were waves of that stream. But the hunters of power returned to Earth. The troops of light were crushed in order to make room for quite a different kind of warrior. Eventually Helia realized that she couldn’t do anything more for her beloved Earth. Idols existed both inside and outside of the humans, and eventually she couldn’t fight against them anymore. I myself had to inherit my father’s throne after his death, and my task was to reign according to Helia’s wishes. This lasted no longer than until my death.


At the time of the destruction of Lemuria and Atlantis and the beginning of Egypt’s prosperity, there was no more peace in the verdant land we had taken care of for such a long time with Helia. Neither the Great Spirit nor the Nine Elders could intervene in the work of their messenger. There were gods in other parts of the galaxy who sent complicated energies to Earth in order to get humans to submit to their will, for instance Godonda. If humans had understood this better, the world would look different today. There was a weapon which the weak ones couldn’t resist: fear. By means of it, the people became willing tools of Power and still are today. The clergy, not the least, contributed to this, even before they were called priests. The ancient gods belong to history – that’s what people believe. I remember from my last life on Earth that during parties with my author colleagues, we all raised our glasses and cried, “Still live the ancient gods! Cheers!” We didn’t imagine how right we were, neither were we sober enough to think along such lines. But I will come back to the gods later on. They are of interest because they still exist, and moreover, they influence humans into being obedient toy-soldiers. 


The Reptile People

Without me realizing it, the Nine Elders have guided my lives for thousands of years. When I got to look back on my lives and what happened between them, I thought that it was quite messy. But I was wrong, because here is an incredible order and meaning behind everything. The “journeys” here in the Angels’ School, when I penetrated into my former development, occurred in small doses because they were rather trying, even for a spirit. I got the opportunity to enter my own Self during many periods of time and relive some difficult karmic events. Between my earthly incarnations, I often made galactic journeys, and they taught me a lot. I find it peculiar that it took such a long time – really until my last life on Earth – before I understood the connection between body-soul-spirit.


My last “death” took me into the great cosmic system where I am now. I have met many of my own caliber here, not in the Angels’ School but in the Palace of Light, not far from there. You can call the Palace of Light a kind of magnificent hotel, with guests from the whole world. These guests have very different backgrounds, but they all have one thing in common: They are Lightworkers. They are angels who willingly travel to Earth or some other planet, bringing help where it is needed. You can call them invisible activists.


I would like to tell you about an adventure I had between my Janne life and my previous earthly life. After having lived as a big swindler at the card table, where a well-aimed bullet ended the misery, I arrived at the usual foggy field, where I was fetched by a beautiful angel girl. I was fully aware of what sins I had committed, and since my mental activity still was limited, I took for granted that I would be sent off to some unpleasant place. But the angel girl smiled and told me that I would be sent out on an important mission. “Does card-playing exist there?” I asked interestedly. But she moved her little hand back and forth in front of my eyes until I had completely forgotten what a rascal I had been. I looked down at my body and discovered that I was wearing a white, glittering gown. The angel took me through a great, shimmering light, and for a moment, dread passed over me. Who was I? Where was she taking me? I closed my eyes for a short moment, and when I opened them, I found myself in a beautiful garden. Strangely enough, I recognized the garden! A different kind of memory than the earthly one began to awaken in me. I had been here many times: in the Palace of Light on the ethereal plane. I sat down on a sofa and enjoyed the beauty of the scenery. From the position where I was sitting, you had a wonderful panoramic view: Close by there was a sea of flowers and far away, on the horizon, there was a real sea. I caught glimpses of red and white cliffs in the distance and lovely green forests …


“Welcome back, Horace!” said a friendly male voice. A tall man sat down at my side. He wore a pale yellow gold knitted cloak. He was in his forties and had beautiful dark blue eyes and silvery-white hair. ‘Apparently, I have been called Horace,’ I thought, without remembering a thing from my previous life. “We have chosen you to carry out an important mission for us,” the man continued. “Why me?” I asked, surprised. Of course, I was flattered, but something was telling me that I was not worthy of so much attention. “Don’t imagine you were anyone special in your last life,” he said and smiled. “Quite the opposite. You were a cheater and a daredevil, and it is the daredevil that we need! But all along inside the shell, there was a very goodhearted person. You took care of a poor woman who would have ended up on the streets if you hadn’t helped her. She had a little son who was called ‘an illegitimate child.’


But you always maintained that ‘there are no illegitimate children; all children are legitimate small jewels in the forge of the Great Jeweler.’ You married that woman and had one more son and a daughter. Your way of providing for them was hazardous and dishonest, but the love for your family was deep and warm.

When you had money, you helped everyone who asked you. When you were broke, you gave them a nice smile and exchanged a friendly word. That’s why we have chosen you to carry out a mission on another planet.”


“Are there more inhabited planets than Earth?” I asked, astonished. “Oh yes, there are many! But this planet is located in our galaxy and is inhabited by the so-called reptile people. They have started to reconnoiter Earth, with a view to conquering it in the future. We absolutely don’t want that to happen. That’s why we need you.” I was appalled. I could not by any means undertake such a mission. It would be better to send a diplomat who has kicked the bucket, I thought, and I said so. The man laughed. “You are chosen for this mission,” he insisted, “but first you have to learn quite a lot!”


I was placed in the Angels’ School. Since the memory of the characterless but kind fool I had been no longer remained in me, I managed to convince myself that the learning was easy and entertaining. I was not going to travel alone; I worked with a group of around fifty people. The guarantee for a successful mission was anchored in my hands.


When it was time for departure, I had been developing both my inner and outer strength and I had been trained in different forms of protection. On trembling legs, I got up into the spaceship that would take us to the alien planet. When we landed, a group of reptilians was waiting for us. I was prepared for their appearance; we had seen pictures of them in school, but still, the reality was frightening. I saw that my fellow-travelers reacted the same way, but now it was important not to show any fear. I walked up to the reptile man at the head. Imagine a crocodile standing upright and you get some idea of his height. His gold- and green-shimmering skin was leather-like. His head was almost human, but far from attractive. His yellow-green eyes were slanted and elongated, with heavy, protruding, scaly eyelids resembling awnings. He had a broad mouth with thick lips, and his nose was short and wide, with large raised nostrils. None of the reptilians had hair, but some skulls were rounded in a human way.


Others’ heads were long and narrow, like the ancient Egyptians. “Hail in the name of Love and Light!” I said, as I had been taught. “Welcome in the name of Dendra!” was the quick answer, in a metallic tone. I knew that Dendra was the god that this strange people worshiped. “My name is Rok, and I will guide you to the palace,” he added. “Our ruler, Murq, wants to see you at once, and you must be alone.”

herhit

“But I am accompanied by a group of representatives from different worlds on our frequency,” I objected. “If you don’t want to arouse our ruler’s anger, you come alone,” was the answer. “Your friends will be taken care of in the best way, as long as they don’t show any hostile attitude!” Rok’s expression was grim, and I felt threat vibrating in the air. The reptile people came nearer and formed a circle around my whole company. Swiftly I explained to my group that they had to wait for me. Then I followed the big reptile man across a bridge that led over a river that looked quite Earth-like. The color of the water was a bit different. It was transparent, but had a deep blue-green color which probably was ideal for camouflaging the reptilians. Rok turned around and smiled at me. “We dwell a lot in the water,” he informed me. “It’s good to be as invisible as possible if the enemy is near.” I asked him who the enemy was, but I got no answer. Rok’s broad, scaly back almost felt like a safety in this peculiar rocky landscape. Here and there were small patches of grass, but almost no other vegetation. Thick, thistle-like leaves covered the ground in a few places, and Rok broke off some of them and ate them with apparent delight. He made a sign to me to taste one, and I did so. The leaf actually had a nice taste; it contained a liquid that reminded me of honey. The palace was located in a cliff, and in front of it was an open space. I admitted unwillingly to myself that the front of the palace was exquisitely beautiful. It was hewn out of the reddish rock, and in the center was a huge doorway, decorated with gold and gems. Around it were very beautiful reliefs cut out. Also, the windows on both sides of the doorway had reliefs that probably represented the history of the reptile people. I would have liked to stay there and study this work of art more closely, but Rok waved impatiently at me to come along. At last I would meet this Murq, a meeting for which I had been prepared for a long time. We entered through several beautiful doors and saw reptilians hurrying around with various objects in their claw-like hands. The ceiling height was impressive, but the last door was low and made out of simple wood. Rok opened it and pushed me in. I was standing in front of Murq, the reptilian ruler. Many were the stories I had been told about him and his powerful planet. Many were the cosmic wars he had successfully fought.


“Welcome!” I heard him say, while my brain was registering both the usual and unusual surroundings. He was sitting at a sculptured table, on which a dinner was served. Imagine that reptile faces could be so different! There was actually something royal about this being, and his expression was almost jovial. He made a sign to me to sit down right opposite him. “You’re from Earth, I presume?” he asked. “That is interesting for us. We haven’t been visited often by Earth humans.” 


“Well, I’m not exactly terrestrial any longer,” I muttered. “My mission is to ask you not to invade Earth. Humans must be allowed to develop at their own pace, and because they have free will, like you, they also must learn to use it properly. They cannot, if they are forced to be under your control. Threat creates fear, and fear solves no problems, but only makes them grow. It’s not an Earth of problems you want, is it, with imprisoned humans who hate you and scoff at you?”

“You are a wise messenger,” Murq answered and smiled. “Then I want to tell you that we have observed Earth for a long time and seen that it is a dying planet. It is rather a rescue action we have planned.”


“Earth is certainly not dying,” I protested. “She is still beautiful and rich in natural resources. It is her inhabitants that have changed.”


“I know, I know,” the ruler interrupted impatiently. “Humans have, in a relatively short time, succeeded in ruining the Earth deep into the bedrock, in the same way as they have ruined themselves and each other with their free will. And things are getting worse in the future. If they had had a strong leader and strong laws to live by, this destruction would never have occurred.”

“Nothing gets better by you taking the helm,” I objected indignantly. “Moreover, you would frighten people with your appearance, which differs so much from what we are used to.”

“They would have to get used to us! We are not evil, young man. We are not going to kill you and eat you,” he said laughing, but his eyes flashed in an odd way. “We only want to teach you how to live in peace with each other and to respect the powers that be. We are a peace-loving people, even if we have sometimes been involved in conflicts originating from other parts of the Cosmos. In addition, we are a creative people. You have seen what artistic heights we have achieved, haven’t you? We can teach you to develop fantastic talents in various genres of art.”


“We already have very nice art on Earth,” I answered, “and the Great Spirit asks you to renounce this project. If the Earth has not recovered and the humans have not changed in a positive way within the course of a couple of hundred years from now, the Great Spirit wants to discuss this with you again. He knows about your highly developed art and culture, but your whole planet is so mountainous that it is difficult for you to develop more without blasting away half of your planet. He suggests that you start to develop more from within instead. He is ready to send teachers here.”

“Thanks, we don’t need any,” was the cold answer. “We are not subordinate to the laws of the Great Spirit, but we try to listen to them if they are reasonable and if Dendra acknowledges them. We must pay attention to the wishes of our Godhead. In this case, he has given us an ultimatum. There are things we want to find out about humans, and we are going to do that. Since your delegation consists of humans that have developed on a higher level in the worlds of the Great Spirit, Dendra has a proposal for you. If we might keep your delegation here, we promise not to invade Earth now. You may return with this message. No evil will befall your friends, but we need them. This offer is irrevocable. I, Murq, ruler of the reptilian planet, have spoken.”


The door behind me opened. I bowed slightly to the ruler, who had returned to his meal. I couldn’t reason this any further with him, and now I had the disagreeable task of presenting Murq’s proposal to my delegation as gently as possible. When I did, there was a profound silence. My fellow-travelers were sitting comfortably in a drawing room in the palace. They had received refreshments that looked appetizing, but tall guards stood at attention at the doors. There was no chance of escape. After a short while one of my fellow-travelers, who I all along thought looked nice and open, rose and spoke. “Is there anyone who will report for duty voluntarily?” he asked. “We all have the power of returning to the worlds of the Great Spirit sooner or later.


A whole Earth, where we have lived and loved, is in danger of being captured and perhaps changed in a negative way by the reptilians. What are our ethereal lives compared to the whole physical population of planet Earth? To be sure, we are already dead; we cannot die again! If we share our knowledge with this people, they may release us after some time. Then we have helped Mother Earth at the same as we have shared our ancient wisdom with the reptilians.” This was a true man of honor talking. I embraced him and then asked all the others if they were prepared to stay. At first there was complete silence. After a while, one hand at a time was raised. Tears ran down my cheeks when Rok took me back to the waiting ship. “In the name of Dendra,” he whispered in my ear, “I will make sure that no evil befalls your friends. I have a way with the ruler!” 


It was sad, but good, tidings I took to the Ethereal World. Apparently, the reptile people kept their promise. Yet, the snake-skinned humans have not invaded Mother Earth. But yet no one from my delegation has returned either. And Horace returned to Earth to be born as the farm boy Jan. 






6. In the Angels’ School

I have been undergoing trial after trial even after my last life, since I experienced the Akashic Records and decided to stay in the Ethereal World. The goal I have set up is demanding, and I still have a long way to go. But since time no longer counts, I have eternal life before me. And we continue with the teaching in the Angels’ School.


Shala informed me that the first trial was about longing, that is, longing back to Earth. If I felt it, the time was not ripe for me to proceed. Longing is such a common word on Earth. We are constantly longing to be somebody else, to conquer hearts, to make a lot of money, to travel to foreign countries, to be loved … We are always longing for someone or something, and on Earth longing can be creative. The Swedish poet Erik Axel Karlfeldt once wrote these lines: “Longing is the name of my heritage, the castle in the valleys of loss.” My pretty teacher escorted me to a room in the Angels’ School where I had never been before. The room was circular, just like a tower room. “It is a tower room,” Shala said, smiling. “Didn’t you notice that this house has towers with golden roofs? We all think it looks so nice!” To my shame, I must admit that I had perhaps looked more at Shala than at the school building. She read my thoughts as usual, started to laugh, and disappeared from the room with a sly expression on her face. After she had closed the door it wasn’t visible any longer; it had become one with the wall.


It was important not to get claustrophobia! I sat down in an armchair in the middle of the room. It was a swivel chair. A pleasant bluish light made me think of a blue cupola. Suddenly it started to smell like spring, and a light breeze ran through the room. The formerly smooth walls showed a marvelous panorama. I swiveled around in my chair, and everywhere were glades of hepaticas and slopes of wood anemones on mossy ground covered with needles and cones.


The wind rustled the trees fully audible: fir trees and birches, alders and rowans – all kinds of trees belonging to a solid Swedish mixed forest. I heard the babbling of a brook that, quite rightly, was flowing forward in a deep furrow close to an old, rounded, overgrown country road. Uprooted trees raised their animal-like, straggling shapes out of the moss and played with the imagination of the wanderer. I could feel this wonderful smell of spring, of damp soil, and of growing Nature. I could see a bear watching me from his den and a fox running out of his burrow, with a tail of cubs close behind. The birds fed their cheeping nestlings, and a buzzard nestled high up in a pine crown. With his crown held high, the elk majestically strode along between the tree trunks, while the white rump of a deer flickered by through a thorn-brake. I lived spring, I breathed spring from my swivel-chair. Just as the longing for a Swedish spring morning in the forest had seized hold of my heart, the scene changed slowly, slowly.


Fascinated, I followed how cowslip and bitter vetch, buttercup, saxifrage and clover, marguerite and forget-me-not budded and burst out in tender-green grass-tufts on the early summer meadow. I experienced the scents which go with the midsummer, with the high summer and haymaking, with flowers, weeds, sun, and rain. I was in the middle of it all, enjoying it and longing for it!


When the summer around me faded and the leaves were colored in gold and red, I felt my pulse quicken. I have always loved the early autumn with its clear air and plentiful sunshine, glisteningly spread in the damp golden-red. Never can you behold the nuances of a bright red maple leaf, so beautifully designed and delicately veined as on a sunny autumn day. My enjoyment was disturbed by a quiet snowfall. Big snowflakes fell on all the red and covered the ground in shimmering white drifts. A kick-sledge stood leaned against the corner of a house and a couple of skis were ready to be used with their poles stuck into the soft snow.


I followed the seasons and I enjoyed it all along – I longed for everything I saw! But when the snowy landscape was rubbed out and the blue walls in the tower room enclosed me like a heavenly cape, a thought arrived saying that the beauty of Earth also existed where I was dwelling now. I was in the abodes of beauty, in the origin of the sister that is called Earth. Then completely different images appeared on the cupped wall. They panted a memory-song that felt bittersweet. There were good and beautiful moments from my last life. There were the favorite places of my memory. Were they still there in the valleys of loss? That was what Shala asked me when she entered the tower room.


I don’t know how long I had been sitting there, swiveling round and round in the chair, in order not to miss out on anything that was replayed. I had perceived all scents, even freshly-brewed coffee and fresh-baked bread. I had heard words being whispered and I had seen me and my family, near ones and dear ones, and heard their happy, friendly voices. No dark memories were included, maybe in order to give me the illusion of a constantly joyful life. I had read poems with my friends and colleagues and I had visited the places I loved. The thorns of longing should have torn my heart apart, but I looked calmly at Shala and answered: “If this was a trick to entice me into incarnating on Earth again, it has failed! I admit that I enjoyed it, that I loved every second of the images, aromas, and conversations with friends.


All the time I was thinking how beautiful Earth is and how pure its Nature appeared. But you only showed me the beauty. What I saw was a pipe dream – a random selection from different scenes of my life that certainly are true, but yet negligibly small in comparison with all the rest, the negative. No thanks! I refrain from living on Earth again, no matter how beautiful it is. It’s not possible to live down there without the negative, and perhaps even the evil, getting caught in the web of life. Here and now is life! Earth is the most difficult trial of them all.”


Shala nodded thoughtfully. “‘As above, so below’ is what humans say. But they’re right only from their own simple aspect. The lasting beauty, love, and goodness are to be found here. The trial enters inside of you and creates either despair, longing, or worry. But it can also be a kind of confirmation, as in your case. You have come out of the ordeal well, dear Jan!” 



The Dual Flame

After the trials, my teaching continued at the Angels’ School. I felt as if I had passed my examination for the first stage, so that I could continue on the middle stage. The last stage was yet only a dream, a longing, a vision. But Zar and Shala helped one another in order to make me understand. Zar taught and told stories, and Shala explained and elucidated what was difficult to comprehend. Sometimes I was the only pupil, sometimes we were several. Many times I thought I recognized some of the other pupils, but I never had the chance to ask them.


After the classes, we were all given other tasks. Sometimes we got to watch theater or listen to music, sometimes we danced, and we often sang. Occasionally we studied in the big observatory or in one of the technical halls. It was full of variety and very interesting. “We have talked about gods that exist in so many different forms in the innumerable religions on Earth,” Zar said. “Soon we’ll travel around in the Worlds here, but before that I will explain a little more of these beings and why they are called ‘gods.’ You have learned about the Dogons, a people in Africa, haven’t you, Jan?


Many thousand years ago, beings from Sirius landed there in order to repair their spaceship. They stayed for a while with the Dogons and taught the tribe a lot of things. They were given the title ‘gods’ because they dropped down from space and disappeared the same way. To this day on Earth, the Dogons still tell the legend of the gods from Sirius. That’s just one example of endless similar stories. Visitors from space, from other planets, galaxies, and Universes, were much more common about 5000 years ago, and that is why legends about them have remained on people’s lips, have been embroidered, and have become one with their dreams and wishes. The help that these ‘gods’ gave their brothers and sisters on Earth was called ‘miracles.’


“To meet people’s different wishes and prayers for help, the ‘gods’ were given different qualities. It was simpler that way. The ‘gods’ got to represent the humans’ own qualities, good and bad. They were split up into, for example, the ‘gods’ of love, wealth, prosperity, war, health, the Sun, and the Moon. They have thousands of names. These ‘gods’ are in the best of health on their respective cosmic home planet. When the messages and the thought forms from the peoples who worship them reach them, they can send back vibrations or energies that are received by the praying ones and that sometimes can do ‘miracles.’


Unfortunately – as many bad things as good things can come out of such contacts between humans and ‘gods.’”

I asked about the Central Sun. Are there several Central Suns? The answer was yes. Every galaxy has its own Central Sun, Zar told me, independent of how many other suns and moons that are in orbit around it. A Central Sun is not what we would call a sun, because it is not physical. You cannot look at it with binoculars. It is, rather, a radiation of collected power, which constitutes the true power source for all the planets and stars of the galaxy. If utilized correctly, this power can generate a tremendous amount of energy, and as such, we use it for different purposes – for instance, propulsion of our crafts, because it contains dynamic kinetic energy. This enormous power source is accommodated on a physical planet or star in the galaxy. In our case, the Central Sun is located on Sirius. “Is there any connection between Duals and the Central Sun? Do they exist there?” I asked. “No, my friend, you have got hold of the wrong end of the stick!” Zar said, smiling. “Every human being has a Dual of the opposite sex, and these two are united here, either in the Ethereal or in the Astral World. This union may take its time. On Earth you have, in the most ridiculous way, confused all these concepts: Duals, Twin Souls, Twin Flames, etc. Every other woman walks around hoping to meet her Twin Soul. Many prophetesses shamelessly tell their clients about Twin Souls, who will pop up in their lives. This may lead the client to labeling a partner wrongly as their “Twin Soul.” This, in turn, means that both partners may expect too much from each other. It won’t be easy for either of them to live up to being ‘the dream-prince’ or ‘the dream-princess.’ “Certainly you have a Dual! Certainly you will be united with him or her. Certainly you may find a soul-partner in your Earth-life, but that has not the slightest to do with your Dual. Certainly you love on this side of the bridge, too, between then and now. But that love is so great, so all-embracing, and so pure, that you only become a small part of it. That’s how we love each other here. You cannot compare that to Earth-love.”


“I haven’t met my Dual yet,” I said. “She remains on Earth, and I am faithfully waiting for her. Is it not really the intention that male and female must be in balance in every human being? For me, the male has always outweighed the female. But I have had my muse, and she was the most important thing of all throughout my Janne-life. I sat for hours talking to her, and that’s how my books came into existence. Many times I have left the practicalities I 

have been occupied with and the demands my family or friends have made on me, just to be with her, my inspiration. She was always in my head, and she was probably the worst rival a wife could have, because she was with me in bed and in all intimate moments of my life. She came with me on my morning walk and sat with the family in the evening. I see my muse as an angel, a divine apparition, a ringing cymbal, a singing rejoicing fanfare. But sometimes she was an advocate of sorrow and suffering. She was my mirror, my wantonness, my melancholy, my everything! And I haven’t lost her, because death could not part us. She still lives in the loose tissues that my head now consists of.”

“But she is not your Dual, my friend, she is your genius,” Zar objected. “The Dual flame is your opposite. Together, you constitute the negative and the positive pole that makes the lamp burn. You are the two faces of Love: The one who lives down on Earth only feels earthly love, while the one who stays here carries the All-Love within himself/herself. Is that difficult to understand? Both feel longing, however, the longing for each other, the feeling of incompleteness. That can only be satisfied in one of the Worlds on the other side of the portal. Duals that have reunited here – something that happens constantly – can, if they want, proceed along together. They may choose, but not without a counselor.”


“Proceed?” I wondered. “Yes, I mean proceed in their development. But they can also travel together. That depends upon their own wishes and our guidance. But I cannot unveil everything that happens here. The soul must have some remaining secrets to find out.”


“You talk so much of free will. Can you please explain it a bit closer?” I asked him. “‘The Duals can if they want …’ you say. Do you keep your free will completely when you have passed the border? Free will is supposed to have been given to the inhabitants of Earth as an experiment, a test of how they coped with it. It is said that free will doesn’t exist anywhere else in our galaxy. But now that I have regained my full memory, I remember we had our free will on Zio. Has it followed us? By the way, what is the use of free will when you live in earthly imprisonment? The soul is held captive in the many times unpleasant shell of the body, and free will is often not at all free. The free wills intersect each other like shining, uncompromising swords, from the cradle to the grave. It is no longer a question of having a free will, but now it is about who has the strongest will, and who can gain power over all the poor, weak-willed wretches crawling in the mud of life. Am I right?”


“The children of Earth at least had their chance of free will,” Zar objected. “How you then utilized it, is each one’s own business. Don’t look at it from such a negative perspective, Jan. But there is yet another explanation. After the fall of Lucifer, the Cosmic Council where the Nine Elders are included became worried about what he would be up to next. It had never been a matter of limiting free will anywhere in the galaxy, and that didn’t happen, either. On certain planets there are rulers who subjugate, and Lucifer was looking for power. Most of all, his dark creations wanted to strike and subdue. Will is set against will in the whole galaxy – in fact, in our whole Universe. It’s not only a global problem, it’s universal. And is there really anyone with a will that is free? It has become a turn of phrase, nothing else. “The Great Spirit gave every energy-seed an individual soul that wouldn’t submit to anything else but the Laws of Love and Truth. How these souls then have conducted their innate gift was up to them. You’re also confusing Order, that is regulated by law, with free will. There is a cosmic Origin, from which we all descend. The Origin doesn’t seek to subdue, it guides every single soul through its own inner Self. Don’t confuse inner and outer will! The inner will is connected to the Origin and only acts in accordance with the cosmic order. There are so many false doctrines on Earth, and among them, I consider free will the worst. It is the outer will that it is possible to manipulate. “If you reflect properly, you probably realize that on Earth the law of the strong rules, and the strong has also conquered free will. Anyone who revolts against those in power will get nowhere with their free will. They will be dragged through the mud and eventually be slaughtered. The darkness of ignorance rules on your ‘enlightened’ Earth, and the strong makes brilliant profits from it. Mother Earth has her free will like all other planets, but in order to exercise it you need power, the power of Love. Her power is no longer sufficient. It will soon be transformed into wrath. “My dear Jan, may I suggest that we walk on further into the Worlds.” 




8. The Realms of the Astral World

The Astral World is an almost inexhaustible subject, both thrilling and filled with great mystery. This time I didn’t live there, but previously I used to be there often. I well remember visiting the Realms of Dreams with Shala and Zar. With great enthusiasm I had portrayed something for them which is among the very best things I know: Swedish Midsummer – with all the beauty that those words imply. “Imagine,” I used to say, “when we raise the maypole at home: the men’s puffing and groaning, their smell of sweat mixed with illicitly distilled alcohol, and joyous acclamations blended with exaggerations from the bystanders, before the pole stands there like a young bride in all its leaf-wreathed beauty. The gaudy colors in the girls’ national dresses gleam in competition with the expectation in their eyes: Where is my loved one? Will I meet him on the farmyard in the coolness of the summer night? Accordion and violin send out squeaking, happy tones, sometimes arabesquely pure and melancholic, sometimes cheerful and teasingly fleeting like the swallow on the roof of the barn. The whispering from the hay-barn, and above all, the scent of summer, summer, summer …” 




The Realms of Dreams

My two friends had heard all that so many times that they were sick to death of it. Imagine my surprise when we entered the Realms of Dreams and were suddenly standing in front of a real, genuinely Swedish Midsummer-pole, right in the middle of the celebration, with the music, laughing, singing, and cheering. I went totally wild, like the young man I once was on Earth, and I flung myself into the dance, put my arms around the first slender waist I saw, and danced round and round in a reckless whirl. My dancing partner had long blond curls, eyes like bluebells, and a mouth like a red clover, where the honey was dripping for the sweet-toothed cavalier! A living, warm, young female body in a summer meadow gave forbidden promises. I took her hand and we danced together out of the circle towards the distant forest. Suddenly we had to stop, because a stream playfully babbled in front of our feet. On a rock in the swirling water a naked, laughing man was sitting, playing a violin: It was Neckan, the water sprite. I lost my grip on the girl, and Neckan laughed louder and louder and … suddenly Shala was there, embracing me. Zar was supporting me, because my ethereal legs were trembling and wouldn’t carry me. “You wanted to experience a Swedish Midsummer, and that’s what we offered you,” Zar said, smiling. “It might be a good introduction to this realm of chimeras. Just don’t lose your foothold here, because there are dark depths into which you can fall. We will be traveling in the land of dreams, where there’s a lot to learn.”


“This Realm doesn’t just offer what we create ourselves, like we did now,” Shala interjected. “We are now in the astral outskirts. The innermost edges brush against the wonderful Nature World. We begin here in the outskirts, where dreams and fantasies have their place. We are as light as feathers here – so much creating is done here, but it is never negative. The creating can stop in its development if the one who creates doesn’t want to continue but is satisfied with what has been achieved.”


“The Dreamworld has its defined and very important position in many ancient cultures on Earth,” Zar interrupted. “It is to be found among the Native Americans and the Aborigines, where it is one of the original sources of knowledge from time immemorial.”


“Do you mean ordinary dreams?” I wondered. “I never remember what I dream. Neither did I ever really understand the meaning of the Native Americans’ much-written-about dreamtime. They are supposed to move into another dimension of thinking or daydreams, which becomes reality experiences for them. Is that right?”


“‘Dreamtime’ is a Realm of its own here,” Zar answered. “Perhaps Dreamtime sounds a bit wrong in your language, but that’s what it is, and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with dreams at night. One must go into a special state of raised consciousness. Then you let the soul travel on its own journeys in Dreamtime or Dreamland.”


“You get to Dreamland every night, consciously or unconsciously,” I objected. “It sounds simple and unreal. Can I not be realistic, even if I’m just a soul?” Zar laughed. “Do you know that even children feel the difference between dreams and dreams?” he asked. “Call this part ‘dream-knowledge,’ if you like! It is exactly from those kinds of dreams that knowledge can be extracted. They inspire and amplify not-yet-finished ideas. This Realm comprises a wide cycle of creative dreaming.”


“Would the ‘dream-cycle’ be suitable?” I suggested. “That’s all right,” Zar agreed and continued, “You can look at a cycle as a circle, and the circle is the sign for the Origin. Our Cosmic Map is a circle, with circles in it that create a spiral if you lift it in the middle. The Law of the Circle is one of the most important laws in the Universe. Everything’s beginning is a circular course of events, and because it has neither beginning nor end, the circle is the sacred sign of eternity.”


“It has the same meaning with the Native Americans,” I interjected. “They were present at an early stage,” Zar answered. “Now listen, Jan! We will enter the Dream Cycle, so that you understand how it works. There are superficial and more deep-going layers or levels in this Realm, but the deeper layers you shouldn’t enter alone, if you don’t know what they mean. I mean that you shouldn’t release yourself from the feeling of being One with all that is created. For you are not alone or abandoned. You are One with the Universe and with Love, and nothing evil can befall you in our Worlds. You have to think like that as you penetrate into the Dream Cycle. Mind you, a knowledge awaits you there based upon your own basic feeling: wholeness or separation. Whatever happens, hold on to the wholeness.” It was a dizzying journey into the Dream Cycle. We all three sailed hand in hand, borne aloft on some kind of airwave. I was not afraid. How could I be, when I was already dead and buried? Yet I had never felt more alive than 

now! This fantastic life with its infinitely-faceted richness of everything, absolutely everything, and more than you ever can imagine – this life has no room for fear. Terror, fright, and worry are earthly phenomena that do not qualify for a place in these non-physically physical worlds. It is not easy to explain this. I feel entirely physical, except that some earthly unpleasant needs have disappeared. I feel free, happy, and rich in everything. On Earth I considered myself to be a poor devil – here I am rich! Mountains, cliffs – what more words are there to describe these fantastic creations that sparklingly, as clear as glass, raised their glittering tops beneath us? There were snow-capped peaks, and occasionally we caught a glimpse of azure-blue mountain lakes like sapphires, set in the golden crowns of the mountains. We flew over all this at such high speed that I could only perceive a fraction of it. It was more magnificent than on Earth, more grand. At the same time, I realized that these were landscapes where anything could happen. Everything we saw was wrapped in an inexplicable magic. Here, fantasy met fairy tale, and fairy tale met reality. Words are not enough! Below us villages, castles, and simple timber-cottages were seen flashing by, but I had no time to register any details. At last we descended and landed right in the center of a small village, surrounded by snow-covered mountains. One might think that we had ended up in Tyrol. But the houses looked different. They were in more vivid colors and had beautiful paintings along the sides and gables. “Is there a Tyrol here, too?” I merrily asked. “Will I soon see men in green feather-trimmed hats and leather shorts playing the accordion?”


“I don’t think so,” Zar answered unsmilingly. “We are going on a boat-tour now.” We found ourselves adjacent to a little lake at the end of the village. We got into a rowboat that was tied to a jetty. I didn’t see any humans. The boat immediately started by its own efforts. On the other side of the lake a high mountain rose, and a magnificent waterfall poured down its shimmering cascades into the water below, where giant foaming waves were formed. We steered straight towards the waterfall. It felt unpleasant, so I grasped the sides of the boat tightly. Shala laughed at me. “Do you still have some unnecessary fear left in your body?” she asked mockingly. “I wouldn’t have expected that! You must be wondering why there are no people here. This is a prototype of a landscape that is used in the Dream Cycle. We are not the ones who populate the landscape or provide it with occurrences; that is what dreams do! Those who dream themselves here may get lost in the mountains, fall into the waterfall, fight in the pub, or let the lovemaking bloom among the rhododendron bushes in the parson’s garden. Everybody sees this landscape in a different way, depending on their own capacity for dreaming.”


“I must interrupt you,” I cried. “I wonder if visions are the same thing as the Dream Cycle, or a part of it?” “A vision is an image which comes to an Earth human in order to bring her enlightenment or invite her to reflection. A vision isn’t derived from the Dream Cycle, but may in some cases be a part of it. You experience a vision as a kind of image, of longer or shorter effect and closeness. It means that you must pay attention to something or help somebody. The vision comes from your inner Self. It is created by the unconscious mind with a conscious goal. The landscapes of the Dream Cycle, on the other hand, are all prototypes. There are infinite numbers of them, which are then recreated or populated by the dreamer. The dreamer creates his own experiences in the landscape. He can, according to his wish, overlook the whole landscape, or only fragments of it. He directs his part in the Dream Cycle with or without guidance – both alternatives occur.” I sighed. Did I understand any of this? “This is unimaginable,” Shala added with a smile. As usual, she read my thoughts. “You must have taken part in it and struggled with it. Here is included a fairy tale world, if you like, with dragons, witches, and knights. The princess with the long golden curls sits in her tower waiting, the hare and the wolf walk together, and Little Red Riding Hood is dancing the jitterbug with the three little pigs. If you want a fairy tale – make one up! If you want a lesson on something, ask for it. If you want to take a walk in the forest in peace and quiet and see goblins, fairies, and other elementals flashing by, just do that! You get what you desire. If you want to travel to another country and experience something special, you will be able to. The Dream Cycle is the land of the great possibilities, a land where anything can happen – and then I mean anything! Sometimes the Native Americans use the Dream Cycle to see into the future. There is no constancy here, only a chimera, with infinitely beautiful variants that delight eye and mind. Now hurry up, and let’s leave!” She had hardly finished pronouncing this when we were whirled away in a rose-colored fog. Of course, I 

thought, the Realms of Dreams must be enveloped by rose-color. But what were we doing here? Dreams didn’t belong to the existence where I found myself now, did they? On Earth existed both night-dreams and day-dreams, but what could I possibly learn here? “A lot!” answered Zar’s calm thought-voice. “The Realms of Dreams are multifaceted. You have come here to learn how dreams are constructed. Remember, Jan, you are at school!” The rose-colored fog lifted and we were standing outside an old castle that roughly was similar to the ones you pass when you travel along the shores of the river Rhein. There was a bustling throng in the courtyard. There were knights on horses, and standard-bearers walking around. There were squires, stamping, and noise. In the middle of it all was a fair. There were probably a hundred variegated stalls, with even more variegated goods. “Am I in a Medieval incarnation?” I asked. “No,” Shala answered “You’re right in the middle of somebody’s dream. All around this entire Realm there are dreams of the most varying kind. They don’t last long – look!” Just as a tournament was going to start at the far end of the courtyard and I started to run that way to have a better view, all of it disappeared and I discovered that I was running on a wet beach with a stormy sea on one side and high sand dunes on the other. I bent down and picked up a shell. Inside of it was a wonderful pearl. And while the scenery shifted again, the pearl first melted away and so did the shell afterwards. “These are ordinary, messy dreams,” Shala told me. “There are plenty of such dreams, and we call them ‘rainbow-dreams.’ But there are also dreams that feel almost physical – and nightmares. The latter generally depend on the dreamer’s experiences in the subconscious mind, and they are controlled by our greatest enemy: fear. There are day-dreams, which are fanning in here occasionally, that often are bringing light, because they are mostly based on longing. Never despise any dreams; each one of them has a meaning.”

“Yes, on the assumption that you remember them,” I added, and stopped. We had been wandering around at an easy pace, and now we were standing on a road which wound its way as far as the eye could see. On both sides of the road there were desert moors. “You have chosen this road,” Shala explained, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You are wandering towards an unknown goal, and you have no chance to run away, either to the right or to the left.”

“Oh dear!” I exclaimed. “Do you know if there’s a nice pub at the end of the road? A cold beer would go down well!”

“I believe that the Realms of Dreams soon have had their day for you!” Shala said, smiling. “The unknown goal is the next Realm, but first you have to meet a person who knows more about dreams than I do. His name is Aurus.” A tall, sturdy man was suddenly standing in front of me. His snow-white hair reached his knees, and his face seemed chiseled from marble. He was dressed in a pastel-colored coat and held a blooming staff in his hand. “I’m in charge of the Realms of Dreams,” he said in a friendly voice. “Dreams are like naughty children. Some of them you never get in order. Due to the dreamer’s total lack of order inwardly, her dreams often create chaos while sleeping. Fortunately, the human seldom remembers anything when she awakens, but she often get tired after her chaotic dream experiences. The worst thing is that we cannot do anything about it from here; it must come from the human herself. An orderly way of thinking brings ordered dreams.”

“It sounds boring,” I interposed. “Since my way of thinking never has been particularly orderly, I guess my dreams hardly have been respectable. I probably have been dreaming of the forbidden fruit both day and night on Earth.”

“But you translated it into words,” Aurus nodded. “I suppose most artists have dreams about beauty, even if they never succeed in putting them into practice. Dreams play their wild games inside the subject sphere that has created them: namely the dreamer’s. But there are other dreams, too. You call them dreams, we call them perceptions. They’re messages to the dreamer, and we want them to be remembered, or at least lie in wait in the subconscious mind until they get a chance to make themselves known. They can be warnings, they can be premonitions, or perhaps images of the future. “We also have a department for sending urgent messages down to Earth,” continued this strange man, “that is sometimes also known as premonition or materialization. Some of these experiences do not occur outside the dreamer, nor appear during sleep. They come to the receiver inside his brain and are of great importance for him, and perhaps also for others who may take part of them. Such ‘wireless telegraphy’ from our realms becomes more 

frequent in times to come. The humans call it channeling, revelation, or vision. To us it is quite simply messages and guidance. This kind of manifestation shall be strong and clear, but it happens quite often that the medium/ receiver doesn’t listen carefully enough inwards, but involves his/her own thoughts and ideas in our text. But Zar has already told you about that. Now, let’s move on!” Before I could say knife, we all three had jumped into the water. But instead of reaching the bottom of the lake, we were again floating high up among the clouds. It was really crowded up there. I discovered that the clouds were not clouds, but veils fanning by. The veils were dreams on their way to the Dream Cycle, and inside them lived sleeping souls. “Now it’s time to leave the Dream Cycle,” Zar decided. “It’s not a good idea to spend too much time there, because the reality is forgotten in all this wishful thinking and wishful creating.”

“Reality?” I objected. “What are you calling reality?”

“The true reality is in your heart, in the feeling of what is right just for you.” Zar answered. “When you lived on Earth, that was your reality. Now that you have crossed the border, life here is your new reality. The true reality is inside you, in your emotions, in your thoughts, in your perception, but also in your innermost wishes and expectations. You can create a false reality whenever you want to live in it – like a moment ago at the Midsummer-pole, for instance. It won’t make you any happier. You know and feel with your entire being when you live your life in the wholeness.”

“I have never felt myself living as genuinely as I do here,” I answered seriously. “That could possibly be when I was writing. Then I was perfectly happy to the full. But afterwards you got back to the same old rubbish again.”

“You are still writing,” Shala reminded me gently. She put her little hand on my arm. Her light touch felt like a spark of life and powerful, living joy. “You’re right,” I said, smiling, “and I’m going to carry on with that! Well, then I must admit that everything is perfect!” 



The Realm of Music

While we were talking, we had landed on new ground. The air was reverberating with tones, and in front of us towered a tall building, white like alabaster, with ornate pillars, towers, and pinnacles made of gold, and a gigantic dome-shaped roof that was transparent. Out of the building came the most wonderful music. Obviously, it was a concert hall. “All music that is created exists in this building,” Shala told me. “Music is distributed from here to different planets and worlds. The first tone which rang out in our Universe, and helped to create it, has remained in this building and gives echo to all music that exist, both on Earth and on other celestial bodies. Music that is polluted with disharmonious sounds with the intention of irritating humans’ nerve centers is a musical pollution in the ether that may be very harmful to its listeners. It affects the cells in the brain by negatively stimulating certain centers. This may result in acts of violence. There are, as you know, computer viruses, but there are also music viruses. A lot of synthetic music is created on Earth, that is as synthetic in its structure as in its instruments. It doesn’t exist here. One can create out of what is created!”

“What do you mean?” I wondered. “Do you mean that you transform already existing music into negative tone formations?”

“It is feasible with the right tools,” Shala answered. “But we don’t do such things here; they only take place on Earth. There are celestial bodies that don’t have any music, but the tone is always present there, and it is up to them if they want to create something out of it.”

“Is this Realm of Music a stable and permanent state?” I asked. “I mean, how does it really work?”

“Yes,” Zar answered. “In contrast to the Dream Cycle, it is perfectly stable. In the Dream Cycle, everything can be dissolved. It is like a shadow world without shadows, a world of color chimera, where everything is permitted without order or permanence. The Realm where you are now is, in its own way, as ‘physical’ as the planet you come from. You humans put other sets of values on the physical. What you don’t understand you classify as nonphysical, metaphysical, or spiritual – sometimes religious. In reality, it is only a matter of perception. It is evolved in a dense way on Earth, while it is changed to a more subtle frequency here.” I listened. The music penetrated me, filled me with a whirl of sacred tones: tones that glowed, that ached in my heart, and at the same time caressed away all pain and worry. There were tones I recognized and tones I’d never heard before or imagined they could exist. They burst out in a beauty so tremendous that flames burned throughout my body, and my head was turned into a thousand white swans sailing around an egg of gold dust. In that egg I existed – my true Self, the Self that is of spirit, the Self that can cry forward joy, the Self that belongs to Eternity. I don’t know if we entered the music palace. My consciousness had been erased and I was the music, lived in it, danced with it, and sang with it. I was dragged out of this hardly pragmatic state by Shala, who took my hand and pulled me with her. Before I had time to think, we were in a new World. 

The Realm of Music


While we were talking, we had landed on new ground. The air was reverberating with tones, and in front of us towered a tall building, white like alabaster, with ornate pillars, towers, and pinnacles made of gold, and a gigantic dome-shaped roof that was transparent. Out of the building came the most wonderful music. Obviously, it was a concert hall.


"All music that is created exists in this building," Shala told me. "Music is distributed from here to different planets and worlds. The first tone which rang out in our Universe, and helped to create it, has remained in this building and gives echo to all music that exist, both on Earth and on other celestial bodies. Music that is polluted with disharmonious sounds with the intention of irritating humans’ nerve centers is a musical pollution in the ether that may be very harmful to its listeners. It affects the cells in the brain by negatively stimulating certain centers. This may result in acts of violence. There are, as you know, computer viruses, but there are also music viruses. A lot of synthetic music is created on Earth, that is as synthetic in its structure as in its instruments. It doesn’t exist here. One can create out of what is created!"


"What do you mean?" I wondered. "Do you mean that you transform already existing music into negative tone formations?"


"It is feasible with the right tools," Shala answered. "But we don’t do such things here; they only take place on Earth. There are celestial bodies that don’t have any music, but the tone is always present there, and it is up to them if they want to create something out of it."


"Is this Realm of Music a stable and permanent state?" I asked. "I mean, how does it really work?"


"Yes," Zar answered. "In contrast to the Dream Cycle, it is perfectly stable. In the Dream Cycle, everything can be dissolved. It is like a shadow world without shadows, a world of color chimera, where everything is permitted without order or permanence. The Realm where you are now is, in its own way, as ‘physical’ as the planet you come from. You humans put other sets of values on the physical. What you don’t understand you classify as non-physical, metaphysical, or spiritual – sometimes religious. In reality, it is only a matter of perception. It is evolved in a dense way on Earth, while it is changed to a more subtle frequency here."


I listened. The music penetrated me, filled me with a whirl of sacred tones: tones that glowed, that ached in my heart, and at the same time caressed away all pain and worry. There were tones I recognized and tones I’d never heard before or imagined they could exist. They burst out in a beauty so tremendous that flames burned throughout my body, and my head was turned into a thousand white swans sailing around an egg of gold dust. In that egg I existed – my true Self, the Self that is of spirit, the Self that can cry forward joy, the Self that belongs to Eternity.


I don’t know if we entered the music palace. My consciousness had been erased and I was the music, lived in it, danced with it, and sang with it. I was dragged out of this hardly pragmatic state by Shala, who took my hand and pulled me with her. Before I had time to think, we were in a new World.







The Nature World

“The Realm of Music is played out,” Shala joked. “You need a big kick to wake you up!” The kick was composed of something she put into my mouth – perhaps a vitamin C tablet, because it tasted good and had an immediate bracing effect. But I don’t think vitamin C belongs to where I reside now. Are there miracle pills in the spirit world? “Call it what you like!” Shala said. “The tablet you received contains compressed energy in the form of rays that go directly to your brain cells. It is edifying and totally harmless! But in reality, only healing and thoughts of light are needed. Music has a spellbinding influence on many, and it may be difficult to break the spell. But now to something completely different!” First, my sense of smell was affected. I looked around. Again we found ourselves near a waterfall, but never had I seen such floral splendor as here. Bushes, trees, the ground – everything was dazzling. One recognized that special odor of moistness, soil, and greenery that arises after rainy weather, but this was more intense and aromatic than on Earth. “We were so close to the Nature World that I felt inclined to make an excursion here, although we still have many Realms to visit in the Astral World,” Shala admitted. “Here live the Beings of Nature. We have arrived at a tiny part of a giant landscape.” She stroked my eyes, and at once I saw beings swarming around us. They resembled exactly how I had imagined these delightful beings: sheer and exquisite in each line, swift, and graceful. I also caught a glimpse of what we call goblins, dressed in gray homespun frocks, apparently very active, hurrying about with various tools in their hands. “When a tree dies, its deva ends up here,” Shala went on. “The spiritual form of the tree also follows and settles down here. In this World you’ll find all plant species from Earth, but also flora from other planets. There are many different Realms in this World, too, but we’re restricting our visit to the elementals of Earth, because I am not sure what you would think of some other beings. They don’t resemble ours, and some of them can make a frightening impression. “Many thousands of years ago, the Beings of Nature cooperated with the humans on Earth. You should remember that! As we know, you were there from the beginning, and on Zio nothing was more natural than this. The flora on Zio was something absolutely unique, something you cannot find on any planet anymore. Nowadays the humans have lost their ability to talk to the Beings of Nature, but it will return when the Earth changes.”

“Do you really think there will be great changes? Aren’t the minds of the humans far too poisoned to understand what they are doing?”

“Maybe at the moment. But do you have any idea what happens to all these sheer beings as a result of your environmental contamination?”

“They move back here, don’t they?”

“Yes, eventually. But not all of them. A very large number will be so badly injured that they will have to go back all the way to their first energy-state. They must start all over again. Some of them cannot even manage that. These poor creatures are being dissolved in great pain before they revert to a state of energy.”

“Can that happen to humans as well?” I wondered, terrified. “No,” Shala replied smiling. “It’s not that simple. They must pay for what they’re doing to Nature themselves, either by suffering diseases or facing other problems. When they come here, their wrongs are revealed to them, and if they don’t understand what they have done, they get to wander about in the No Man’s World or return to Earth immediately, to make good for what they have violated.”


“The grass we tread on, the flowers we pick and throw away, the branches we pull off, and all other destruction – what happens to the Beings of Nature then? And what happens in forest fires?” I asked. “The fires are cleansing processes,” Shala explained patiently. “Then the seed and the astral image remain and can take shape again. These create a new growth under the same conditions. When you tread on grass, you must know that not every blade has an elemental. There is instead a group-deva for every species. That’s how it works for small species, even in the Realm of Animals.”

“How come the Nature World is so big that it has a circle of its own on the map?”

“Nature is more important than anything else, Janne. Everything originates from there. It contains so many 

Realms, so many secrets, everything that grows, all evolution. It needs a lot of space. We have made an extra circle for Nature on the map because its beings need their own section. These beings are related to the angels. Nature is the basis for all existence, both physical and astral-ethereal. Mother Earth is the birth-giving and creating first Mother, not only in the physical world and in our Worlds, but also on other planets. The starry sky is a part of Nature. The clouds, the lightning, the thunder, the aurora borealis, the rain, and the storm are parts of the unlimited existence of Nature.” She took my arm, and I sniffed covetously the lovely scent of her long hair, which was tickling my cheek. There were fragrances in these wonderful Worlds: music for your ears, scents for your nose – but perhaps not very much for your stomach. “Oh yes,” Shala laughed. “If you want to eat, help yourself! You can create with your thought, can’t you? Some children on Earth know that already. They often visit this part of the Nature World and experience their own fairy tales. To them the adventure is quite physical; they have such power of insight. Unfortunately, the grown-ups don’t believe them. Now, have a look, Jan!” We were walking on a forest road in a real fantasy forest resembling an old-world Swedish mixed forest. Mossy mountains, green tussocks where delightfully light-red and tender twinflower was winding its light arms around the lingonberry bushes, and dense thickets of woodbine and guelder-rose lurked between the trees. Our path covered with needles was full of ants. Here I would love to walk forever beside my beautiful companion. “Oh no!” she caught my thought, tittering. “We’re only here on a short visit, so please observe your surroundings carefully!” I turned around, a little embarrassed. It was terrible that the earthly thoughts still haunted my ethereal brain and that Shala read them ever so easily. Behind me I caught sight of a crowd of goblins and other little people. They stood in a circle, watching a small troll urchin doing funny somersaults, which provoked happy laughter. When I looked up at the treetops I saw thin, beautiful beings floating out of them. They must be the tree-devas. “Yes, that’s right,” stated Shala, again with that mischievous look. “Stop sniffing at my hair and look straight ahead instead!” In the middle of a meadow ran a creek. In the middle of the creek, Neckan, of course, was sitting, playing his fiddle unceasingly, and around him the fairies were dancing. Malignant elves rose up from roots and black holes in the ground. Far over there, a giant was walking around in huge, coarse boots. Never before had I imagined how it is to be in the middle of a real fairy tale. “Nor are you,” Shala said, with her rippling silvery laughter. “I’m showing you this in order for you to understand the relationship between the Realms of Nature and the fairy tales. They belong together. All its beings live in Nature on a frequency that is invisible for human beings. Do you remember your first incarnations on Earth, Jan? At that time Nature was undestroyed, and humans were in daily contact with these beings. But the Earth’s inhabitants themselves built barriers of coarse, erroneous thoughts. At some future date, we hope that the good fellowship between humans and Beings of Nature will return. But the outlook is gloomy, considering how you are destroying your Earth.” I sat down on a stone and put my fingers into the cascades of the whirling water. It felt fresh and good, so I washed my whole face and enjoyed that I still had a face. Hopefully a good-looking one. “You look very good!” Shala assured me, with a ringing laugh. I had forgotten that we were dealing with thought-reading. It can be annoying enough sometimes. I was pondering over where the Realm of Animals was situated. “The Realm of Animals from Earth border on the Realm of our elementals,” Shala answered. “We’ll go there soon. I say ‘the Realm of Animals from Earth,’ because there are animals on other inhabited planets as well, and the same goes for the plants. Those are totally different species, but they also have their place in the great Wholeness. Even the tiniest plant or animal species on Earth is represented here by a mother-plant or deva.”

“I see an almost frustratingly luxuriant plant life here,” I interrupted, “but still I haven’t seen how all these elementals live.”

“I cannot possibly show you that.” Shala said, smiling. “Every little being has its own way of living, in symbiosis with its plant.”

“How are hybrids coming into existence, then?”

“Their origin is also here. Nothing comes into existence just like that in the human brain. The inspiration must 

come from somewhere. There’s a seed, isn’t there? Suddenly something is added through a conscious or unconscious action that causes a divergence from the original plant. It can be a bird, a breath of wind, some foreign substance in the soil that the seed absorbs. If we go back to the Dream Cycle, we know that ideas arise there that in many cases have been realized by the dreamer. But sometimes the foreign additive is a bad thing. It can be added for experimental purposes. That is something that unfortunately has started to occur on Earth to a frightening extent.”

“Do you mean gene manipulation?” I wondered. “Yes, that’s what it’s called,” Shala answered gloomily. “It’s not good at all. It has gone too far with such experiments that occur in the spirit of profit and lust for power. We are very concerned about this.”

“When humans begin to clone humans, they’re trespassing on the territory of the Great Spirit, aren’t they?” I asked. “Neither animals nor humans should be cloned,” Shala said, with a determined voice. “Scientists cannot create souls. Cloned beings are soulless. There is only one origin for the soul. There are planets where cloning occurs frequently. The mechanical functions are working and they have managed to achieve brains that are technically highly developed. One thing is common to all these: they totally lack all emotions. Their thinking is limited to certain manipulated channels. The cloned ones are robots made of flesh and blood …”

“This conversation is going downhill rapidly …” With a swift movement she put her hand on my eyes, and so we became space travelers again. Or did space come to us? But when she removed her little hand, I discovered that it wasn’t space we were floating in. We were passing over a long bridge without touching the ground with our feet. It must be the bridge between the Nature World and the Ethereal Worlds, I thought. We were probably traveling at the speed of thought. “Oh no,” the voice of my companion was heard, full of laughter. “Surely we can think faster than this. Look instead at one of the most beautiful bridges we have! It stretches across the Parallel Worlds and the Incarnation Worlds, which you are not going to visit now.” Rainbow-colored glitter was floating in light clouds on both sides of the bridge. All along the bridge were sculptures, ornaments, and mosaics that were exceptionally beautiful. We had slowed down, so I had time to think. The bridge between now and then, I pondered. The bridge between then and beyond. The bridge between the dimensions – that made sense, because dimension is a measure relating to range. We come from one range and are on our way to another, my merry thought continued. In algebra, you were taught that dimension is tantamount to degree. But here it’s not possible to grade our existence in the same way as one-dimensional straight lines through motion can become two-dimensional planes, and these in turn through further motion can become threedimensional spaces. Euclid talked about the room with three dimensions, but he was only a human. I am now in the fourth dimension – well, that’s how it must be! “Don’t try to explain what you are now experiencing with human physics terms!” was Shala’s rather irritating comment to my scholastic thoughts. “You’ll have other things to think about when we get over this bridge – and we will, very soon.” 





The Realm of Animals

It is not easy to talk when you are whizzing away like that, but as we landed on a sandy plain I couldn’t help but asking: “I cannot let go of all the information I have received on Earth about ‘the astral plane,’ as it is called there, with all its dark mystery, black magic, and low-level sorcery. Ghosts and more or less malicious forces, as well as UFOs, are assigned to the astral plane. So far I have only seen beautiful, substantial, happy, and importantly informative parts of what you here call the Astral World. Where do you keep the shady and uncanny things? Where are the cheaters, the ‘materially spiritual’ ones, who earn a lot of money and claim to have channels to you?”

“We prefer not to talk about the dark sides,” Zar answered. “They certainly don’t exist in the Astral World. They are located close to Earth, as you can see on the Cosmic Map, because they have a close connection to the humans who have developed them. The Dark Realms are not the same thing as hell, because Gehenna is to be found on Earth, within the humans themselves. Your defective religions have created expressions like ‘hell,’ ‘devil,’ and ‘purgatory.’ You don’t have a single religion which doesn’t point out sin and punishment. The Dark Realms are permeated with hopelessness rather than magic, because the black magic that is invented and spread from there never reaches our Worlds. It ends up in humans who are receptive to evil. Does the word ‘astra’ mean something to you, Jan?”

“It means ‘stars’ in Latin, doesn’t it?” I answered, a little surprised. “Exactly,” Zar said contentedly. “‘Astrum’ means ‘star’ and ‘astralis’ means ‘shining like a star.’ Can you connect these words with evil? The humans have let the whole beautiful, bright meaning of the words ‘Astral World’ disappear, and instead they have changed it into something dark and a bit scary, which originates from the fear and agony that they carry within themselves. Here you will now learn what the Astral World really means – the true astral and star-sparkling one!”

“What about the mental plane?” I asked. “It’s included in every book I have read. It’s regarded as one step higher than the astral plane.”

“Dear Jan,” Zar answered, “the mental is what takes place in your brain and what is not said with your mouth; in other words, your thoughts. Your books have gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick. The mental is closer than the No Man’s World, because it means that your living brains are working. A separate mental plane or world doesn’t exist. All thinking is mental. Consequently, it exists here too, where it works in a telepathic way. Since telepathy is not yet common on Earth, humans have assigned the mental its own plane. Let them use whatever terminology they want, but here we work according to our own parlance. We try to make the different Worlds understandable for the readers, and then we cannot use terms created by religions on Earth.”

“Have you been looking around?” Shala’s soft voice interrupted us. I had not. Zar was about to turn my established conceptions upside down, but that was of course something that I had been experiencing continuously since I came here. I realized that everything was much simpler than you could possibly imagine on Earth, and I felt a little ashamed of my ignorance of the astral. From now on, the Astral World would be “the World of the Stars.” Contented, I looked around, and on one side of us I saw high cliffs and on the other side forests. The sandy plain ran down to a lake. In the distance I saw wild animals grazing, running around, or lying down resting. The strange thing was that so many different sorts of animals were together: everything from tigers, lions, elephants, zebras, and deer, to all kinds of small animals. On Earth it was a matter of “Eat or be eaten.” Here it was only a matter of gathering in peace and fellowship. “Noah’s Ark!” I exclaimed. “All kinds of animals seem to get on well together here.”

“Of course,” Shala answered. “Here you find a great variation of landscapes for the wild animals. We also have a beautiful park with comfortable dwellings for pets. Each breed, from the smallest to the largest, has its own deva, and these devas take care of their respective animals. When the animals come here, they must go through a kind of health check. It is not only humans who believe that they carry their diseases with them here. Some animals believe they are badly crippled, and they search for lost body parts. Specially trained devas work mentally with these poor animals, who in many cases have been suffering under the instruments of the vivisectionist. How can humans be so cruel as to use animals for experimental purposes? When are humans going to learn to use the healing powers that are available to them? They can also use these powers on animals. The communication between humans and animals has also disappeared.” 

“Not between dogs, horses, and cats, and their owners,” I protested. “There are many examples of good relationships. By the way, I wonder if, for example, a deeply loved dog, who suddenly dies, may be reborn and come back to its former owner?”

“Well, it may vary from case to case. We have animals who refuse to go back to Earth. The animals spread over the map as they like – it is difficult to constantly keep them in their own Realm. The pets, especially horses, dogs, and cats, can be tightly bound to their former owners. We often have reunions between human and animal souls. If a human soul who has crossed the border wants to have his or her pet in company, then that is permitted. Sometimes pets appear as ghosts. That is to say, their energies are so strong that they can materialize for a moment. But the animals must also be given the opportunity to develop, and their owners should give them the chance to do so. Maybe a dog is not reincarnated as a dog, a cat not as a cat, and so on.”

“So what happens to them?” I wondered curiously. “Will they perhaps become humans?”

“I don’t think you need to know any more about this Realm,” Zar said and took my arm again. “Your question cannot be answered except on an individual basis. Remember that here, in the Realm of Animals, Love rules between all species of animals. Love permeates all our Worlds, because from the very beginning, we were created from it.”

“Before we move on, I wonder if I may ask a question about the gods of the Native Americans? I have heard that different tribes have different names for their gods, but yet they are referring to the same god, aren’t they? The Wampanoag tribe calls the Great Spirit Kiehtan or Kishtannit, and there are lots of other gods beneath him. In North America alone, there were more than 500 Native American tribes. That adds up to an awful lot of different god figures, doesn’t it? The Native Americans are only one example; the whole Earth is full of idols. What are you doing about them?”

“That was an easy question,” Zar said, smiling. “Look at the Cosmic Map! Outside the No Man’s World there are, for example, the Realms of Idols. The gods live there in perfect well-being. If hundreds of tribes in thousands of places on Earth give different names to their gods, it is only a question of language. The gods living in the Realms of Idols each have one original name. The Great Spirit rules them, too. We can call the idols symbols, living their own lives. They are far too numerous to be described in detail. Are you ready for the Children’s Realm?” 







The Children’s Realm


Swiftly we were carried forward on Jolith’s strong wings, as she appeared like a giant bird from the cloud masses above us. We landed in a vast playground. There were swings everywhere, slender swings shining like silver, where children with fluttering hair, rosy cheeks, and happy eyes let the wind help them to fly up towards the sky. Nobody seemed scared. The laughter lurked and peeped at all the small mouths secretly, before it finally broke out. Then it ran about in rattling drumrolls until it choked. Everywhere children’s voices were buzzing, and happy screams echoed. There was skipping, playing hopscotch, playing ball and marbles. There was dancing, singing songs, and telling fairy tales! I was standing as if enchanted. If there was a Paradise, this is it! Everywhere angels glided around, showing the children the way about with consolation, praise, and encouragement. I have always been fascinated by fairy tales, even if I didn’t give them much of my time. I willingly admit that I, Jan, was dreaming of writing children’s books. But I didn’t dare to enter into competition with other story-tellers after I had established myself as a novelist. Furthermore, I was a bit old-fashioned. I liked knights and dragons, captured princesses, trolls in dark forests, and poor little children wandering barefoot across the meadows (as I once had), dreaming of a substantial meal. Can modern children relate to that? “It’s delightful here,” I groaned and inhaled the scent of a thousand flowers. A bit further ahead was a small lake, full of noise and wild splashing, where children were bathing. “The little ones have a good time,” Shala agreed. “The children are never brought to the No Man’s World; they are sent directly to the Children’s Realm. For some time they reside in our gardens for children, and there they retain the same age and appearance as they had at the time of their crossing. This is necessary for their sense of security. They have to be allowed to be children yet a while, happy children who can laugh and play. But most of them have to return to Earth. Before that, they go through a school that is located close by here. They have to choose new parents and they have to understand why they choose so that they voluntarily meet their new future.”

“Poor children, who come to Earth today!” I sighed. “Some of them become child laborers, others become soldiers already from the age of 8–10 in developing countries. Some of them are born to parents who will soon divorce, with all that that entails. I wonder how many of these kids will have a bright and happy life on Earth.”

“There we have the power of thinking again,” Shala explained. “If they succeed in bringing the right sort of thinking with them, and if they listen inwardly and act in accordance with that, they will not be unhappy. But if they succumb to the pressure of their surroundings already as small children, things may go wrong. “When a child is considered to be ready for the next step, he or she is moved to another part of the Children’s Realm. There, a kind of metamorphosis takes place of which I cannot go into technical details, but the result is a change of age for the child. Well, it’s difficult to talk about age in this context, because the concept of age doesn’t exist here. Mostly the soul has undertaken a shorter previous lifetime for karmic reasons. This may have to do with the family or with victims, especially when it comes to group incarnations in developing countries where mass murder and mass exodus take place. “But at this moment, we have allowed the children to carry with themselves a great deal of thinking from us in their subconscious minds. You could say that many children are born spiritually developed today. They have been gifted with a spiritual seed, but it needs nourishment in order to grow.”


“Children who die early, especially those who die in terrible circumstances – war, starvation, murder – did they really choose to be born on Earth for a few years in order to experience all those awful things?” I wondered, realistically. “In most cases, yes!” was the answer. “Accidents occur, but nothing is coincidental. Death works like this: Most humans have a number of posts or stop signals placed on their life path. Thus, it is not predestined from the beginning that you will die at a certain date. There are several different incidents or possibilities to end a life. It is in fact you, that is, your Higher Self, that decides when it’s time. Your Higher Self sees farther than you. It sees what is moving deepest in your heart and what needs an extension of your life to be able to be developed. You don’t know it, but the decision is actually yours! You survive a difficult operation, a car accident, a drowning accident, or something else that challenges death. Why? Because you are not quite finished with the life you have chosen, while others think that a miracle has saved you.”

“Is that also relevant in the case of heart transplants?”

“That depends. In our eyes, such a thing is an unnatural procedure, a play with the divine forces. No matter 

what the doctors say, a healing of the heart without transplantation could have been just as successful – but you haven’t gotten that far yet. Much depends on the strong will of the patient to survive. Some negative impacts might be the result of a transplant, because the patient not only gets a new organ inserted by operation, but also the energies of that organ. But that’s another story.”

“But many people who seem to just have started their career on the earthly plane are carried off much too early,” I objected, “and that goes especially for children.”

“You are using so many wrong expressions!” exclaimed Shala. “‘Career,’ for instance. Do you know where that career would have taken a person if he’d been allowed to live? Be ‘carried off’ – how silly! Nobody is carried off; everybody is passing over. In that case, it is the relatives that might give a start when he is carried off. And after that, they snatch material benefits if they can. At worst, their sorrow snatches the deceased so that he has difficulty getting away from the No Man’s World.”

“You previously talked about accidents. Do they exist?”

“Difficult question. Accidents exist because of humans’ negligence, thoughtlessness, or indiscretion,” Zar answered seriously. “They are dependent on negative creating by the thought, a kind of landslide in the subconscious mind that leads to carelessness in the conscious mind.”

“Most children who come here are much happier here than in their earthly lives,” Shala eagerly assured me. “They get a new chance for a life which certainly will be better, because here they learn to understand so much they didn’t understand before. They take that knowledge with them in their subconscious mind, and if they listen to their intuition, they will be given a new chance. No child dies without a reason. Coincidence doesn’t exist. The motive of a premature death, which is clearly and voluntarily expressed from here, is of course obscured by the child’s surroundings on Earth. It is those nearest who mourn and perhaps take the blame for what is happening – but that is part of their karma. You have seen singing, dancing, play, and joy – free and happy children in a world where concepts like bullying or violence are totally unknown. Here a child might get hurt, but they never hurt themselves. They never hit each other and are never hit. Do you understand? Now let’s move on.” I got to see how children and elementals were playing and had fun together. The Nature World and the Children’s Realm are in close contact with each other. Goblins and fairies, which are considered to be made-up fairy tales on Earth, existed here as well. There is a Realm called the Fairy Tale Realm in the Astral World, and it is also located near the Children’s Realm. There are giants and trolls, and fairy tales, myths, and adventures take place there endlessly. Sometimes the angels must interfere in order to bring order in these wild fairy tales. “It happens,” Shala told me with a laugh, “that bold kids get to visit the Fairy Tale Realm and experience fantastic adventures. They can never be injured, even if they have a tough time, because as soon as they are afraid, the whole fairy tale dissolves and they return here. If more adults would remain young at heart, they would visit these Realms. To be like a child is only an advantage for man. Would you like to stay here for a while, Janne?”

“Thanks for the offer,” I quickly answered, “but I refrain. I am of a curious nature and would like to continue.” All three of us rushed off on the suddenly appearing Jolith. “You asked a question before that I haven’t answered yet,” Zar yelled in the middle of the ride. “You wondered where the spiritual pranksters belong. Many of them inspire and guide psychics over the whole world. They are clever, inventive tricksters from the No Man’s World who live in assurance that they actually are the persons who they claim to be. Many of the names they call themselves are found both in the Bible and in other sacred or less sacred scriptures. Some of what they say is true and correct, and they are well-instructed by forces which don’t belong to our worlds. Some of them are pulling their ‘victims’ legs, and others have a purpose behind their so-called channeling. That purpose is part of a plan which doesn’t originate from here, either.”

“How can you tell the difference?” I wondered. “How can you know who’s who? How shall a psychic be able to trust his or her own intuition, if there are such forces in circulation?”

“Intuition, my dear friend, is the greatest Master. But as we’ve mentioned before and as you probably already know, there are many inhabited planets in our galaxy, and some of them want to usurp power on Earth – for instance, Orion, which already has been mentioned. A lot of ‘psychic’ information comes from them.”

“But that’s terrible!” I exclaimed. “Who can trust whom?”

“When you turn to your innermost Higher Self and ask, you will always get the right answer.”

“I can well believe that I’m doing so, and then the answer is wrong anyway.” I objected, a bit annoyed. “If you are a human on Earth, you don’t have the same resources as you have here.” 

“You feel what comes from within and what is right,” Zar assured me. “Moreover, you’ll notice the result. You must not forget that your ego may have a say in the matter. When the ego inspires, things go wrong.”

“Phew!” I moaned. “You make me so confused.”

“Not at all,” Shala interjected gently. “Zar means that when money and power are involved, you have to be on your guard. Knowledge from a channel shall emanate Love without any demands for reciprocation. There you have the secret in a nutshell!”

“In that case, there won’t be many honest psychics left,” I sighed. “Poor good old Earth that is sown with so many weeds!”

“Dear Jan,” Zar said seriously. “It isn’t just a matter of beautiful words, but also to turn them into deeds. Anyone can talk about light, but not everyone is light or brings light! The reason for bright, loving words must not be profit. These two polarities displace each other and force on unwanted goals. Let the humans visit different psychics to receive varying information. That is also one way to learn. You have to make mistakes in order to understand what’s good or bad. There are many good psychics. I am just warning you of some planets’ influence on sensitive humans. Whoops, now we’re landing!” 





9. The Midnight Mass

“I haven’t seen any churches yet,” I remarked, as the angel’s wings spread their soft feathers on the ground like a sail. “There are no churches in our Worlds,” Zar answered. “Why would we need churches? We sent down our brother, Jesus Christ Sananda, to tell the humans on Earth that All is One. All your different religions divide, instead of unite. The churches are abodes of power for the clergy. Why don’t you use the churches for beautiful music and songs, and let humans go into them to pray, without having any authority taking a collection in the name of God? – a collection that is not always used positively, by the way.”

“Are you talking about God in the Old Testament?” I asked. “Of course. You won’t see any churches here, unless someone creates a hologram that resembles a church, in that case in the No Man’s World. But it disappears just as quickly. Holograms are not permanent. We have buildings here where we meet, sing, dance, and send light.”

“But just imagine how charming it would be with a Midnight Mass!” I tried. “You will experience a ‘charming Midnight Mass’ before we are finished with this journey. Then you’ll probably stop talking about churches! Now look around.” It looked as if we were on an airfield, but the runways bore no resemblance to those on Earth, even if multicolored lights were blinking everywhere. Shala beckoned me to follow, and so we entered a giant building in shimmering silver, reminiscent of an observatory. In there was a spiral staircase in the middle. When we got up the stairs near the ceiling, we found a landing with a rail that ran around the whole building. The walls were so thin and transparent that you could imagine you were standing under the open sky. The sky was indigo-colored, and the stars were traveling close to us in a way I had never experienced them before. From our elevated position, we saw a gigantic platform. Crafts of the most varied kind were landing on it. Some of them looked like flying saucers, others like Zeppelins, and yet others were impossible to compare to something the human eye has seen. “We are still in the Astral World,” Zar explained, “and this is a landing ground for visitors from outer space. There are planets whose inhabitants have the ability to adjust themselves to our frequency without first crossing the boundary of physical death.”

“Is this a Realm in the Astral World?” I wondered. “No,” Zar answered, “this is nothing more than an airbase. Here are reception buildings for the visitors, where they are guided and taken care of by angels. You mentioned Realms, and I must tell you that not far from here is the ‘Database’ for all the Worlds, as it would be called in earthly language. It’s so huge that it contains every individual that has lived on Earth and that is currently living there. We will not show this database, since it is so enormous and complicated that the uninitiated cannot possibly understand how it works. For example, there you can find information about all the lives one single person has lived since the first time she was born as a human. Without this database we couldn’t show the Akashic Records, which are derived from there. This technical area is part of the Scientific Realm.”

“Thanks; my technical vein is non-existent,” I said, smiling, “so I think I will refrain from going there. I prefer the Realm of Beautiful Arts.”

“Good, Jan, because that’s the next port of call on our journey,” Zar told us. “Why do you show me this airbase?” I asked. “Because it is a border area and because we are going out for a little flight,” Shala answered. “To be sure, you wanted to experience a Midnight Mass and we invite you to one – but without a church.” Something that looked like a glass ball had landed behind us. In this glass globe was a door, and a stairway was leading up to it. We climbed into the “plane” and sat down. It pretty much felt like being in a helicopter, but the difference was that everything was made of glass – even the chairs we were sitting on. What I here call glass was a transparent material which didn’t feel hard when you touched it. The seats were soft and molded themselves to our bodies. There was no sign of any pilot. Where Zar sat, there was an instrument panel and some levers. “You’re not frightened, are you?” Shala asked me a bit teasingly. I denied it, of course, for what had I to be frightened of? What was I expecting? Not a church, but a large concert hall, on another planet perhaps. Life after death constantly affords surprises, which suits me well. I remembered when the Jan-self was ill with a severe and at that time incurable disease. At first, things felt hopeless, but 

then my resistance arose as high as the Eiffel tower. I didn’t want to be ill and slowly wither and die, just as I had seen happen in so many other farm laborer families, because of the lack of nutrition, damp houses, far too heavy work, and other misery. I remember sitting on a stone in the forest, thinking like mad. I realized I had not been of too much delight to my home or elsewhere, but if I got to live, I would show them. So I made a radical decision there on the stone. I was going to think myself well! Strangely enough, I succeeded. Such thoughts were completely unknown at that time. Maybe I had picked up something out of an old book – I don’t really remember. But my whole life changed when I recovered and stubbornly went from publisher to publisher in order to get my books printed. Thought won through in the end – even if it took its time! Outside the glass globe was the indigo-blue sky, embroidered with so many shining star sequins that they made my eyes smart. I saw whirling planets and comets – or was it perhaps shooting stars that fizzed by like firedrakes? The glass ball rolled around in the clear atmosphere, and if we had not been fastened in, our light bodies certainly would have been dissolved by the turbulence. Yet this rolling was not unpleasant, because space presented an incredibly captivating drama whichever way we looked – up, down, or sideways. We were surrounded by the Cosmos; we were small atoms in the Wholeness. If we screamed, our voices wouldn’t even be heard as much as the fluttering of a butterfly wing. But we couldn’t scream; our lips were sealed. We took in the Universe with our eyes, and our bodies collected a hitherto unknown energy that gave us high after high of raised consciousness, on the verge of a primal shock. I felt as if I was about to explode from the inside. All of a sudden it came. Somewhere in the glass ball a hatch opened, so that the sound could flow inside. The Midnight Mass had started. It was the music of space, the overtones of the spheres, the harmonies of the angels, and the sacred choruses of the Seraphim. It was a unification of light and sound that not only was heard in our ears, but invaded our whole bodies and stretched our limbs in naked devotion. We found ourselves in the greatest premises thought can create: outer space. The tones sought us – not vice versa. They flew around our craft, they played in circles parading on top of each other to, with a sound of crisp crystal, be pulled upwards in a spiral with us in its center. Our nerve fibers were seething and cutting. The cascading and singing swept us into a cathedral of sound. It was frighteningly beautiful, but no words can ever cover what we really experienced at this immense moment in the arms of the ether. Zar, Shala, and I were prostrate in the glass globe, floating in the air. We floated with the tones, and the tones floated into us. There were sounds I had never heard before, streaming over me in cascades as if from a gigantic waterfall. ‘What are all the churches and cathedrals of Earth, compared to this?’ I thought. All I’ve ever read, all the masters of music and art, all the culture of the whole world – what was all of it worth if you compare it with this sublime moment? Perhaps my eternity is not the same as yours, dear earthlings, but right then it was speaking. Eternity was telling its story! It was singing of its infinity, its Unconditional Love, and its tremendous beauty. Could the sweetest of all sweet things cause pain? Can pain and happiness be bound together in an emotion so tremendous that what we call death on Earth becomes a symphony of joy? And what actually are emotions? I know I have kept my gift to feel after the crossing, but never before had I felt that I am made up only of emotions! The Midnight Mass was not over. Outside the glass globe, it suddenly started to burn. I sat up with a start and looked out into the Cosmos. Our craft was surrounded by flames that didn’t look like burning fire. This was not a fire of hot, burning flames. This was a fire of colors that formed patterns which were following the rhythm of the tones. It was so inconceivably beautiful that my euphoric emotions left me stunned. I sat bolt upright, absorbing the experience and wishing it would never end. I wanted to remain in this little glass cage in the middle of outer space, long after the Midnight Mass had faded away, because how would it be possible for me to return to any kind of existence after this? The darkness of mercy made me sleep for a short while. When I awoke, we landed at the airbase and Shala helped me out of the craft. My whole body was trembling. “You will soon get used to our Midnight Masses,” she comforted me, as my tears wetted her hand. I could still cry. “You see,” she went on in a soft voice, “this was the first time you were with us, and there will be many more times. But you have to get in practice for the highest possible happiness, as well as for anything else.”

“This must be the greatest thing to happen to any soul, apart from meeting the Divine Father himself,” I panted. 

Shala started to laugh as clear as a bell. “You don’t need to meet him separately,” she assured me. “He is everywhere and in everything. You have him inside you, and he was the great conductor in the Midnight symphony!”

“But I thought he was in the middle of the circles of the Cosmic Map,” I stammered. “That’s where the Great Spirit, the Mother-Father, lives, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed,” Shala tittered. “Of course he is there. But he is everywhere as well.” Zar joined us. He gripped my shoulders and gave me a friendly pat on the back. “He is in your muse, he is in your heart, he is in your eyes and in mine and in Shala’s,” he said. “The All-Seeing Eye is part of your own eye, but that part doesn’t always have time to open when you live on Earth. And now I’m back to the subject of your churches. It is the priests who give humans the wrong image of the Father. He is considered to be the Highest One. But since he is in all our eyes and in all our hearts, he cannot sit higher up than we do, can he? It’s true that he has his Existence in the middle of our Cosmic Map. But from there he radiates a spark to every living cell. Every living thing contains the energies of the Creator. That’s the strongest law that exists. “And now, Jan, we’ll continue our journey.” 





10. The Realm of Beautiful Arts

The Realm of Beautiful Arts is also a center for creation. From there, energy rays emanate to all art that is created on Earth. I was wondering why some art is so ugly, so base and repulsive – but yet it’s called art. Has it really been created here? “The energies that inspire artists all over the Earth are sent out from here,” Zar answered. “But in order to reach the artist in the form of inspiration, the aura must be penetrated. The inspiration can only reach the artist via the aura. If the aura is sick or influenced by evil, drugs, or negative thinking, the inspiration is transformed when it is about to be realized through the artist’s interpretation of images. Accordingly, not all art on Earth becomes heavenly or celestial. Now take a look at the source of inspiration for your own work: Please turn around, Jan!” I did. To my amazement, I discovered the farm laborer’s cottage where I grew up, the cattle I tended, the fields we plowed, the church where all we children were baptized, and the meadows, the forest, and the lakes all around there. All this appeared around me, so that I was standing in the middle of a holistic center of my own childhood. “This is where you gained strength and inspiration,” Shala whispered into my ear. “Your simple, uncomplicated childhood gave you strength, even if you at many times found your life troublesome and inadequate. Inspired by this scenery, your pen wrote all those words, the colorful and expressive ones. Without these surroundings, your words would have been tame and uninteresting. That’s how it is for most artists. Their childhood and adolescence characterize them and give them inspiration both for good or bad. But their hands don’t always follow the images within themselves. Many of them lug along stones that follow them from life to life. But such artists don’t belong to The People of the Sun and the Stars – they belong only to their ego.” My native place disappeared and made room for a studio, where several artists were engaged in painting. The paintings were sublime. Such paintings of exquisite beauty, painted in different styles and on varying materials, had never been beheld by earthly eyes. “This is art which will directly inspire earthly artists in the form of energies,” Zar told us. “We’ll see what happens to it when it is sent down to its ‘candidates.’”

“I can tell you that,” I said, laughing. “Not a shred of all this beauty will stick to terrestrial canvas! If it did, it would change humans and raise their consciousness. I am afraid that is probably not the case.” Souls who have been artists, or those who always have wanted to be, end up here if they desire so themselves. Here are teachers and the possibilities of practicing all kinds of art. When you walk around here, you are struck by the familiarity of the paintings on the walls. Famous terrestrial artists, who have not incarnated on Earth again, share their experiences and skills. Less famous artists get a new start. The surroundings faded quickly and made room for a number of rooms around me. There was everything: from a sparsely furnished garret to a magnificent library. These were authors’ workshops. Heaps of books were lying on a big table. Their titles were fantastic, and somehow I knew that these were perfect books. They were books that never had been written. They were books that would revolutionize the world, that would overturn all predetermined opinions, hammer nails into the gigantic coffins of religions, and pave the way for a new, positive, and different outlook on life. There were books for both children and grown-ups. But some titles were very near books that already exist on Earth and are recently-published there. This was the trend that was just awakening on Earth, this was the thrilling reading of the future. I wanted to stay here. I rummaged around in the volumes on the table. I enjoyed holding them, to feel their weight or lightness, and to absorb the words that caught my eyes. I found no Bible among all these books, but a thick history-book of religion, with gilt edges and wonderful pictures. I skimmed through the end of it. The last printed page revealed how all religions were about to merge into one single philosophy of life where one single Source of power ruled through every living individual. I looked questioningly at Shala. “That book touches upon certain visions of the future,” she explained in a gentle voice. “It shows the goal we are aiming for.”

“Can I stay here for a while?” I asked. “You can fetch me later on, right?” But Shala shook her head. “It won’t get you anywhere, it’s just a waste of our time. This is your personal interest, but your readers want to continue and learn more. Zar is waiting for us in the Angelic Realm, in the Ethereal World – so, let’s go there!” 





11. In the Angelic Realm

Again I experienced clouds or fog. Like a sheer haze of blue, rose, and violet, it wrapped itself around us so tightly that I didn’t even see the contours of Shala anymore, I only felt the firm grip of her little hand. It reminded me of the kind of smoke curtains that are used both on stage and in movies. I started pondering if I, after all, was the earthly old Jan, who hadn’t died, but was dreaming the whole thing. Reality becomes blurred when you pass through the Realms of Dreams. I began to doubt my reality and wondered where it could be found. “You got to trust me, Jan,” Shala’s determined voice was heard. “You screw up your eyes because you don’t dare to be who you are now: the one who is on the other side of the Portal of Light. Look up now, my friend! This is your reality.” To be sure, it was bright. Lovely music was heard, and my nose scented the most pleasurable fragrances, spicy and aromatic. Of course, angels have got to have wings – I couldn’t get around that. At least that’s what has been portrayed from time immemorial in ancient books, in reproductions, and in churches. Angels must have wings! But here figures, dressed in light clothes, were walking around in a paradisiacally beautiful park – it was like in a French painting from the eighteenth century – and not a single one of them had wings. But I saw a light around them, a halo, aura, or whatever it might be called. “It is their radiation,” Shala explained, with a smile. “You still seem to be terribly attached to earthly things. Now you really get to pull yourself together and take in some new thinking. I brought you to this park on purpose to let you study the angels in peace and quiet. I thought you had understood that thing with the wings. This is a creative world. If you need wings for any particular purpose, you create them.”

“The backs of these angels look too weak to bear wings,” I interrupted. “You’d need to be a muscleman in order to manage them.”

“Would you call bumble bees musclemen?” Shala asked in a cheery tone. “Imagine the thin, slender wings that carry their plump, solid bodies. But they work! Your laws of physics don’t apply here, and yet you keep on returning to them, Janne. Forget the old and accept the new. You’re about to learn something entirely new and wonderful. Then you also have to accept the magic that is simple for us, but is labeled as miracles on Earth. Jolith is living proof of this. She uses our magic in order to grow, and carry us on her strong wings through space. But now let’s continue on our expedition.” You cannot talk about towns here, even if any considerable accumulation of houses on Earth is called a town. I would rather use words like meeting places or gathering spots. The buildings that exist here consist of schools, concert halls, libraries, and town halls. These buildings only serve cultural and developmental purposes. Shala and I made a quick trip that gave me an overall picture of most of what is on our Cosmic Map. Probably my readers have wondered how the Masters and the angels live and how these Worlds are built up as for the rest. You want to know how the inhabitants live their daily lives, because you are always thinking in earthly terms. There is no day and night in these Worlds, but there is rest. Everybody has the right to stillness and rest whenever they want. Since neither time nor subdivision of time in days and hours exist, we can call our existence here an “eternal existence.” Maybe it sounds dull to human ears, but I can assure you that it is a most exciting, active, and pleasant “existence.” If we would like to make a tour of the houses of the angels, we would probably have a tough challenge. Houses for Masters and angels are those homes that each and every one create for themselves in a rich and changing landscape. Both the Ethereal and Astral Worlds are located in gigantic Nature areas, seemingly without beginning or end. Inside these areas we can create the surroundings in which we feel at home. When you get tired of the old surrounding, which many create in accordance with their last home on Earth, it is easy to dissolve it. After that you can build something new or choose to move from place to place. Big and beautiful establishments, that you most likely would call “hotels,” are situated here, there, and everywhere. It is difficult to describe them, other than as an excellent collective living, where everybody is welcome and where there is always a comfortable room to withdraw to as long as you wish. If you want company, there are both small and large recreation rooms and rooms for meditation. It’s difficult to describe the Ethereal World closer than that, since it is so changeable. The Astral World is divided into many Realms; however, we have just included the most important ones. You could say that the Astral World is somewhat less ethereal than the Realms of the Angels and Masters. There is also another difference: In the Ethereal World, it is not necessary to have any kind of form. It’s voluntary and fully 

adapted to the wishes of the individual. But to me, it always feels a bit odd when an invisible soul talks to me. I prefer both to be visible myself and to be with visible friends. The invisible souls show their presence as a radiation of light. Sometimes their light takes shape and becomes a form. I can achieve that, too, because it is practical sometimes, especially if you have a mission on Earth. The soul always radiates an aura that is more or less pale. If you don’t want to be seen, it moves quite conveniently at floor level or ceiling level. I have used the word “school” in various contexts: the Angels’ School, the Astral World’s Schools, and so on. What I call “schools” most certainly do not correspond to the physical schools on Earth. I have only started from “school” in the sense of a place where knowledge is acquired. The schools in the Astral World manage the development of human souls. When a soul in the No Man’s World asks for help to proceed, it instantly ends up in such a school. There the soul is developed towards the goal it desires itself, in consultation with helping angelic beings. The Angels’ School in the Ethereal World has another purpose, but I have already told you that. It educates and develops those beings who have decided not to incarnate any more, but want to continue within an area they choose themselves. For instance, there the different Soul Groups are taught about their collective task and their individual missions, which may include an earthly mission. The novices in the light city of Shamballa, in the Realms of the Masters, need a very long time of preparation in the Angels’ School before they can assimilate the higher education. In the middle of our tour of the house I felt a sudden thirst. “Is it possible to get something to drink here?” I asked Shala, feeling almost ashamed. She laughed. “Help yourself; we serve both food and drink,” she said. “When we wish to ingest food or drink, we create it. What we swallow is of such a nature that it is absorbed immediately in our ethereal bodies, and it is dissolved without leaving any traces behind.” She handed me a cup out of nowhere, and I drank greedily. It tasted wonderful and felt refreshing. “I thought you had learned this by now,” Shala scolded. “You are your own creator, and your wishes will be fulfilled within reasonable limits. If we want to walk in beautiful Nature, we do so. If we want to move swiftly, we do so by the power of thought.” I have already mentioned before that the “hospitals” here are for sleeping souls who need enlightening and helping treatment. Many who have crossed over still believe that they are ill, and cannot leave their earthly problems behind. We have skilled healers. Many of them have been doctors on Earth, and they continue helping humans, both here and via earthly mediums. There is no particular Realm for the reunion of souls. This may take place in all Worlds. One of the first things that souls are asking after they have arrived here is, “May I see my wife, husband, mother, or father?” etc. Sometimes immediate reunions occur. Sometimes it takes a long time – the missing one might have incarnated again. Here the thing is that the individual soul evolves according to its wishes and abilities, fully independent of its last life on Earth. A liberation from the nearest and dearest has to take place, even if it feels hard. We cannot be dependent on a strongly bound emotional life, attached to any other person than our own Dual. But it actually happens that we get “Romeo and Juliet” cases here. Then we allow them to be together for some time until they understand that they are unique souls, each of which must choose its own way. If it happens by chance – and it happens quite often – that they belong to the same Soul Group, they are allowed to continue in the fellowship and All-Love that is there. Humans who need to straighten out common problems in order to move on receive help from the angels. In these cases, music also has a healing effect. With regard to the Realm of Science, which we fluttered into and just as swiftly got out of, things are far too complicated to go further into. It is a Realm where ideas are born and where these ideas are tested in practice on an ethereal level. I have never been drawn to science, but I admired the beautiful public buildings, every one of them an architectonic masterpiece. The Realm of Science made me ask Shala what the word “religion” means at these latitudes. “Religion,” she snorted, “is not allowed here. What would it look like if every soul worshiped different gods? Here is only one Creator; so what are we supposed to do with a load of religious symbols? Your Christ operates in Shamballa under the name of Sananda. He is also one of the members of the Galactic Council, together with Buddha and many other highly evolved spirits. We have no churches, no mosques, and no synagogues. “The word ‘religio’ means to worship God and to gather around him. You can do that under the roof of the 

entire Universe – there is no need of a particular building for that!” 







The Banquet

“I hope you had an instructive moment with Shala,” Zar said, embracing me. “We have arranged a banquet in your honor. You’ll get to meet the archangels and the Elohim.”

“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?” I asked. “By no means,” Zar answered. “The seven archangels – who nowadays, incidentally, have increased their number to nine – and the seven Elohim have quite different tasks. Please, follow me to the banquet hall and I will explain it to you in more detail.”

“A banquet in my honor?” I repeated, surprised. “That doesn’t feel right, because I am a fairly modest man.”

“My little joke,” Zar said, smiling. “But in a way, it’s true. The angels love to arrange festivities. Since you are an author with information to mediate from here, they weren’t late to organize a party.” Should I call the building a pyramid? It was gigantic, and the material was a mixture of gold and glass (in earthly words). It was pyramidal, and four small pyramids ran out from it, one from each side. Up to now I had considered the Blue Hall and the Golden Hall in the Stockholm City Hall the most magnificent rooms I had ever seen. Now I had second thoughts. I cannot describe in words an interior design that has never been seen on Earth. That’s how it has to be sometimes, a verbose author falls silent. However, there were long tables with goldinterwoven tablecloths and high-backed chairs. Glass, china, or cutlery were not to been seen. On the other hand, I wasn’t particularly hungry. One was full merely by looking upon all the splendor. Zar gestured to me to sit down at one of the long sides of the table with him, Shala, and Jolith. When I looked up to the pointed roof far up there, I could see no lamps. A soft and wonderful light was shining down, coloring the hall in pale rose. Along the walls were double rows of balconies or parapets. “Listen to me,” Zar urged, patting my arm. “You wanted to know the difference between Elohim and archangels. The archangels work most of all with Earth. Elohim have their missions directed all over our Universe – across all galaxies, planets, and stars. Elohim administrate our Universe by working with the governing energies in the Wholeness. The archangels do the same thing in a more tangible way with the Earth, the Sun, the Moon, and a couple of other planets. Why? Well, because now the Earth needs special help. It’s a matter of saving Earth, the nearest atmosphere around it, and the closest constellations, so that the compressed stream of poison that Earth releases into the Cosmos doesn’t destroy everything around it. I promise you, it is an enormous task they have taken on. But there are many of us helping.”

“Do the Elohim and archangels govern their respective gigantic spaces as some kind of helpers to the Great Spirit?” I asked. “Are they the lords of the world and the Universe?”


“What a way to talk!” Zar exclaimed, frowning. “Don’t think in symbols of power again! Such thoughts are not allowed here. We are not engaged in any political organization or cosmic mafia. Somebody has to organize and administrate, don’t they? That has nothing to do with power, only with law and order.”

“Aha!” I interposed, as usual in the mood. “Who institute the law? Is it perhaps some kind of cosmic Supreme Court? Law and order sounds so damn legal.”

“You have beheld your origin,” Zar answered patiently. “You wouldn’t be sitting here at my side if you had not been created from the beginning. Who created you, you tiny spark in the Cosmos?”

“The Great Spirit, of course,” I answered, a bit confused. “And you cannot possibly imagine that He, when He created his Universe, had to do it with law and order? Somewhere something has to prevent chaos, and that has nothing to do with either power or judicial law.”

“But then what?” I tried. “All the other old men were added. Wasn’t there already at that point a risk of discrimination?” Now Zar gave a hearty laugh, and so did Shala and Jolith. I couldn’t understand at all what they were so amused at. I was trying to comprehend the meaning of law and order in the Universe. It is not that easy when you still have some pieces of the earthly human left inside your ethereal head. I leaned over to Zar. “Listen,” I said in a low voice, “I have heard some people talking about meetings with angels. One of them talked about wings, but the other two claimed that angels look like ordinary humans. One of my friends was rescued out of a car that collided with a rock face on a slippery, deserted road. A man, who looked completely ordinary, quickly pulled him out of the car before it exploded. When it did explode, my friend was already well away from the vehicle. Yet he knew that the collision and the explosion happened simultaneously. How did the stranger 

get him out of the car? At first my friend thought he was a lumberjack, but the rescuer had been neatly dressed in a dark overcoat and a felt hat. One moment the rescuer was behind my friend, right in the middle of the explosion – the next moment he had totally disappeared and the collided car was probably 20 meters away. There was only one explanation: The rescuer was an angel!”

“I just told you that angels are good at all kinds of white magic,” Zar said. “It often happens that angels who are in readiness in an emergency situation take on the shape of what you call an “ordinary” human being. That’s because they don’t want to frighten the distressed. Look here!” A young boy dressed in a white shirt and light brown trousers came up to us and greeted me in a friendly way. He brought with him a girl who was wearing jeans and a flowery blouse. The boy was blond-haired, with an open Scandinavian appearance. The girl had red hair, freckles on her nose, and mischievous blue eyes. They looked extremely terrestrial. Were they newcomers in this world? Barely had I time to finish my thought when both the youngsters transformed before my astonished eyes into beings wearing bright, pastel-colored dresses similar to the one I wore. From their thin backs, I saw enormous white wings slowly emerge! I had learned that such things could happen, but I’d never witnessed it before. The magicians on Earth would have been green with envy seeing this! “A little performance, just for you,” Shala laughed. “Sometimes it’s so difficult for you to understand that we have to show you in practical terms! Just as swiftly as these two transformed, they are able to perform rescue actions, provided that the distressed shall continue living.” Bewildered, but also filled with excitement and joy, I experienced this unparalleled banquet. Angels not only exist, they are a fact to be reckoned with throughout our Universe – and in other Universes. They live in a world of perfect beauty. The angels have their tasks within an incredible number of areas, and each of them performs their tasks in perfect Unconditional Love. Many good humans on Earth are taken directly to the Angelic Realm when they die. If they want to, they can become guardian angels or help angels. But there are also many other “educations” to choose between. “Many good humans become angels,” I commented on Zar’s long exposition about angels. “I don’t think I’m particularly good, or have been so in my last incarnation. I was a rascal, and I was good at scolding …”

“Be quiet, Jan!” Zar exhorted. “It’s not your outer human we’re asking for. That’s not the one sitting here now. Nobody who really wants to help in these worlds is too insignificant or too ignorant. But we demand compassion and love, even if it sometimes is so deep inside that we have to use pincers to pull it out.” Suddenly everyone at the tables stood up and sang something which in my profane ears sounded like “Hail” and “Kyrie eleison.” Anyhow, it felt solemn. From one of the balconies under the very roof of the pyramid, a staircase descended to the hall. A troop of figures dressed in blue glided down the stairs. My heart started to pound violently without me understanding why. The troop came past the rows of tables, straight towards the middle one where we were sitting. “Look at your dress, Jan,” Shala whispered. I looked down at the cloak I was wearing. One could just as well call it a burnose, I thought, one of those gowns that reaches down to your feet, with a cord around the waist. I have always wondered how Arabs even in present times can bear to wear such dresses. What if they have to run? What are they wearing underneath? Anyway, here my cloak felt light and natural, so I wasn’t complaining. Mine was shining blue. I discovered that my cloak was the only blue one within sight, except for the group dressed in blue approaching our table. That was a bit weird, of course. The group stopped in front of me. The music stopped. It was breathtakingly silent in the big hall. I examined these beings, who consisted of both men and women, all dressed in the same kind of blue cloaks as mine. I had a shock. I knew them. Every single face that smiled at me belonged to a dear friend who had been close to me. I burst into tears and embraced them one by one. “This is your Soul Group, Jan!” I heard Zar explain. My Soul Group! My dearest, best friends! Humans that I had lived with, both here and on Earth. The joy of reunion was almost too much for me. But they all sat down at our table, and the banquet continued. Now I remembered. It was as if a veil fell from my eyes and I understood where I belonged, who I was. These humans – because to me, they were humans – and I were connected with inseparable bonds. We were a big group, but not all of us were there; some remained on Earth. Now I remembered every single one of them, what 

they had meant to me, why we had incarnated together, and all the wonderful plans we had had here for the next life. We had not succeeded in carrying out our grand plans on Earth, where our earthly wills, our earthly differences in character and behavior, had made us strangers. Yet at times we had been extremely close, tied together by a memory we didn’t really have any recollection of. It was there, in the depths, but the depths were cloudy. Now I also understood intuitively that my earthly medium belonged to this group, and that was the reason why she was so quick to perceive me. We all knew that it wasn’t certain that our message, which we brought from here, would emerge during our earthly lives, and if it didn’t, we would have to start all over again. We had climbed mountains together, both physically and mentally. We also knew that we could influence and help those of us who are currently still living on Earth. This was too wonderful to be true! I cried and I laughed, and we spoke all at once without saying a word. There was, so to speak, a loud exchange of thoughts. When you have become accustomed to communicating telepathically, you don’t really notice the difference. My Soul Group was wearing different nuances of blue. All their faces were so distinct, so well-known, so loved. Not that all of us were relatives or closely related. I could only find one relative that had been close to me in my last incarnation, but who died a premature death – my beloved sister Karin. It was such a joy to find her among the blue ones! 






About Soul Groups and Twin Souls

And then, what is actually a Soul Group? It is something so important, dear reader, that you must take in and understand every word I say now: A Soul Group is a group of humans of between 25 and 50 individuals. All of them are angels on this side, but not all of them have necessarily fulfilled their karma on Earth. Often a group is taken out of the Soul Group and is commissioned to incarnate on Earth during approximately the same period of time. Some of them become older, some younger, but sooner or later they will meet and recognize each other. The sense of recognition among them is very strong. At the present time on Earth, many such groups in several countries have met and have begun to understand that they must stick together and that they have a common task. It is difficult to explain this without taking into consideration how much consciousness has expanded for some, while others are still on the same old spot. Many factors come into play, but most of all, the humans’ own thinking. There are individuals who belong to a Soul Group, but for various reasons they block out their thinking, thereby isolating themselves from the others. If so, it’s important that somebody from the group recognizes them and helps them to wake up. In the Angelic Realm in the Ethereal World, they will always be brought back to their Soul Group when they cross over. Some of them may need a little more training before that to make their recollection work. I needed that. It is quite obvious that to be able to come from Earth directly to the Ethereal World, you will need a strong raised consciousness. You can never be sure that all those people who boast about their contacts with Masters and archangels really have this raised consciousness. It’s possible that these “false prophets” belong to a Soul Group, and that they are missing it without understanding what they are looking for. This is where the ego comes into the picture, and it could be easy for them to get on the wrong track. Some Soul Groups often try to get their lost sheep on the right path before and after their crossing. Right now positive things have happened, because humans are beginning to wake up more and more. Soul Groups have succeeded in influencing their sisters and brothers on Earth into recognition. Many times, the result of this has been the formation of groups. There will come a New Age on Earth, and then all these groups will keep the living traditions, the connection, and the fellowship with their kindred souls here going. In this way, many groups are formed that will strengthen the bonds between Heaven and Earth. The angels who are in the Soul Groups may also be connected to other planets. Does every human being belong to a Soul Group? the reader probably wonders. The answer is no. Have you ever asked yourself the question, “Who am I, and what do I want with my life?” If you have, perhaps you have been sent down to Earth with a mission from the friends here. Accordingly, those who belong to a Soul Group originate from the Angelic Realm, and no one on Earth knows with certainty that they belong there. All the time it’s a question of intuition, since the subconscious mind holds the ace of trumps. What can be achieved by an earthly Soul Group if some of them successfully find each other again? Answer: meditation, assistance in the form of healing, and conversation. One can imagine common actions of various kinds, and not the least, a network between the groups. It’s difficult to give advice, since so few humans know that they belong to a Soul Group. But in the cities, this kind of work is badly needed. The cities destroy the humans. Slowly but steadily, a migration has to take place to Nature and natural living. Nature plays a prominent part in the evolution of man, because if you live in harmony with it, you will have a keener ear for the messages that come from a Soul Group. In the Angelic Realm, the Soul Groups are designated with different colors or symbols. As I mentioned before, there may be quite a few members. But imagine that seven or eight people on Earth recognize each other and know they belong together. What then might occur is that one of the members claims that her best friend also belongs to the group, but the others will not accept this. In other words, it’s not possible to form Soul Groups on Earth. Only an irrevocable, unquestionable recognition from within the deepest heart chambers of the two members is a solid sign of kinship. If a third party is added, this person must feel the same for the other two persons, and vice versa. It’s slightly complicated, isn’t it? Another important thing is the earthly misunderstanding of Twin Souls. Already during the last years of my life on Earth, in the 1960s, expressions like “Twin Soul” or “Dual” or “Twin Flame” were popular. Let me give them a new interpretation that is used here. The members of a Soul Group accompany each other for centuries – well, even millennia – and they become 

inseparably interconnected to each other, whether they live here or on any other planet. Then what is more natural than that the recognition that occurs when two people of different sexes from the same Soul Group meet somewhere else than here, is interpreted as a proof that they are Twin Souls? Here all of us are Twin Souls, but I prefer to call it brothers and sisters. Duals are quite another thing. Every human being is a Dual, that is to say a male and a female being, who seldom go down to Earth at the same time. I mentioned above that here all of us are Twin Souls. This was not entirely correct. Every individual keeps his or her individuality here. We are composed in the same way you are, and we often take our hereditary conditions with us when we pass over. One chooses their parents on Earth. It’s a matter of being awake and having the power to resist all the negative qualities that exist in the genetic material. How many can do that – Soul Group members or not? It’s not possible to describe how the rest of my existence elapsed for me in the bright, melodious, and loving atmosphere in the Angelic pyramid. I again became one with my Soul Group. At last, however, we had to bid farewell to each other, since I still was a pupil in the Angels’ School. But Zar comforted me. “You will soon be reunited with your Soul Group,” he promised. “But in order to be able to describe your existence here to your readers, you will have to travel with us for a while longer.” 






12. Meeting with the Master Djwal Khul

There is an incomparable city in the Ethereal World. It has been much talked and written about throughout the ages, and in most cases it has been called “The Golden City.” Not even Jolith’s soft wings were necessary to bring us there. The golden city Shamballa borders on the Angelic Realm, and as far as I can understand, this gigantic city forms a whole Realm on its own. It is the center of the Great White Brotherhood and all other high Masters. Shamballa is the divine residence of truth, wisdom, and love. It wasn’t difficult to get there, I just told you. I closed my eyes, and Zar took one of my hands and Shala the other. I opened my eyes and we were there. A golden haze surrounded us on all sides. Through the haze I caught a glimpse of tall, beautiful buildings that by far surpassed both the ancient Roman and Greek architecture. A while ago I had found the fantastic glass pyramid in the Angelic Realm an architectural masterpiece – but now I was standing in the middle of a city filled with such buildings. The streets were paved with a yellow, shining material that resembled gold. The colors and the shapes of the buildings varied, but each construction formed together with the surroundings an exquisite pattern. Fountains played everywhere, and multicolored flowers sprouted up from well-laid flower beds. Graceful flowering trees formed oases of shade and fragrance. There were benches and tables, and we sat down in an arbor. When I listened, I thought I heard the roaring sea in the distance. A silvercolored eagle fluttered high above our heads, and it made me think of the high mountains at home. “You are always making comparisons with Earth,” Shala scolded me. “Here are also seas and mountains and forests – whatever you want! Shamballa is a piece of jewelry that has been placed in the heart of Nature. But the city is also a retreat for the highly evolved souls, for instance Sananda, Melchizedek, Buddha, Lord Maitreya, Lord Maha Chohan, and many others.”

“Don’t some of them usually go down on Earth and materialize?” I asked. “It happens occasionally,” Zar answered. “There are trustworthy individuals on Earth who have experienced the blessed messages from the Masters.”

“What are they really up to?” I asked, a little irreverently. “Do they only meet here to talk about how terrible the humans are?” Shala put her hand to her mouth. She always did that when she was giggling. “If you could imagine all the work that is performed in this city, you would still not be able to grasp it,” she said gently. “The Masters are extraordinary administrators. Together with the Great Spirit and the Angelic Realm, they are our hope for saving the Earth.”

“I cannot understand why Mother Earth hasn’t already been saved, when such high and mighty powers are working with her,” I dared to object. “Come on, Jan!” commanded Zar and gave me his hand. “You and I must go on a trip together, and it seems as if it’s time for that now.” He took me to one of the nearby houses. When we got inside the gate, it seemed to me as if we were at a railway station. I couldn’t see any rails, but there were entrances to several tunnels. “This is worse than the underground in Stockholm,” I muttered when Zar took me into one of the tunnels. I was thinking as I usually do, ‘If one has to experience uncanny things, it’s just as well to be already dead!’ 








How to Materialize and Dematerialize

“I had a very definite purpose in bringing you to this remote place on Earth, where my old friend and teacher lives,” Zar continued. “Jan, it’s time for you to learn materialization and dematerialization. You call yourself ‘dead,’ although you are alive in the highest degree. There are a few people on Earth who can dematerialize their bodies and visit our worlds, but they are not many. It’s more difficult for a physical person to learn this, but for you I hope it will be child’s play! But it requires great self-discipline and lots of practice. To materialize for a while, as I have done now, is not that hard. The Master Djwal Khul once taught me how, and now I think it’s your turn to learn this, too.”

“Now?” I stammered, “May I learn this now?”

“Of course, my boy,” the old Tibetan said, and put his thin hands on my unphysical shoulders. “Now, you must listen carefully to what I say, and do exactly what I teach you. Begin by relaxing, sitting comfortably on the sofa. When you dematerialize a physical body, you work upon your cells so that they transform into a particular light-energy. We’ll teach you to do exactly the opposite!” What now followed is impossible to tell in detail, but I will do my best to account for the actual course of events. I continuously listened to the soft, guttural voice of Djwal Khul, who exhorted me to perform certain thought actions. It started with that I should imagine that my whole body, ethereal as it was, was consisting of cells, in this case light-cells. He showed me the cell-structure mentally, and I was requested to keep it in my thoughts. Thus I imprinted the cell-structure of my body on my retina. At first I just saw it in light. The cells were distinct, but still they were made up of nothing but light particles. The light shifted to rose-color and then to pale red. I still saw the whole structure distinctly, in the shape of my own body. I repeat: My own well-known body was like a compact, luminous figure, made of pale red cells. At the request of the Master, I slowly formed an aura around this body, in the usual aura-colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet. I saw myself as a kind of dummy made of cells and tightly surrounded by the aura. At the same time, I was that dummy. Now I lowered my frequency. It felt as if I was standing in the center of a vortex, which from its furious initial rotation slowly decreased into lower and lower speed until it stopped. An intense heat passed over me, and I was asked to put my hand in Zar’s and then open my eyes, which I constantly had kept closed. This whole procedure seemed to last for an hour, but in reality it took only a few minutes. I stared at my hand, which felt different in Zar’s firm grip. I put the other hand on my heart and felt it beating. I was neither dead nor spirit any longer! The physical Janne was back on Earth again. And I felt really hungry! Both of my teachers got up and helped me up, and there I was, standing on trembling legs. I didn’t dare ask how long this event would last; I just enjoyed it. Or what was I feeling? Perhaps I imagined that I enjoyed being a living human again. But could I really be more alive than in my ethereal body? We went into an adjacent room, where a delicious vegetarian meal was laid out. I ate and drank with great relish, and I noticed that my teachers exchanged contented looks and had a hard time trying to keep a straight face. “After dinner, you will have to return to your ethereal state,” Djwal Khul said. “The physical Jan must learn to go back to his non-physical existence, because that is your rightful place. By the way, how does it feel to be dressed normally?” It had totally escaped me that I was dressed in a pair of light-colored trousers and a white shirt. On top of this, I was wearing a beautiful, embroidered waist-coat. “This is the height of fashion right now,” Zar said, nodding when he saw my surprise. “We have, of course, cheated a little and helped you with the dressing. You cannot learn everything at once, but we were actually amused that you didn’t notice anything. That confirmed that you were deeply concentrating on the cell-formation. Now you will soon learn to concentrate as deeply on dissolving the cells.” At first I felt a bit embarrassed, knowing that both Masters had been having fun at my expense, but then we had a good laugh together. Time passed much too quickly in their entertaining company, and soon it was time for my current physical person to again place myself in a relaxing posture on the sofa. I tried to chew extra-long on the last grape, but it didn’t help. “Now you shall again imagine your body as consisting of pale red cells, surrounded by the aura,” Djwal Khul said. “It is very important that you see the aura distinctly. Visualize the aura-colors, but also the magnetic field that 

is nearest to your body. It is like a field of pale yellow energy. The magnetic field belongs to your physical body. Constantly visualize your chakras and fill them with their respective light-colors. See how your cell-structure pales and turns into pure light. Pull this light the way I show you here: at first through the magnetic field and then upward through the whole aura. Then steer it inward until the aura has ‘devoured’ the cells. Now only your light body remains. Do you understand?” It was not easy to understand, but everything happened very slowly, and I concentrated a long time on the different steps. It felt as if I was sucked upward or inward, but I didn’t feel as if I’d vanished. I was aware of what was happening the whole time, and I constantly ”felt in” my limbs and the rest of my body. Thus my body was still there, but it became increasingly lighter and more flexible. When you die, you don’t know how the transition from physical body to non-physical body occurs. It was difficult to understand how my body could be buried in the ground and then become physical again in a secret place in Tibet. But now I was Jan again – an angel in a long, blue shirt! “The body you had in your latest incarnation has moldered away in the earth,” the Tibetan explained, as he read the questions in my poor head. “You had to give yourself a new physical body. It was natural for you to materialize a body that resembled the one you had the last time on Earth. This one was, of course, younger and healthier, because the substitute bodies that we for various reasons acquire must be in good condition. Not everyone can be an Ascended Master, even if Ascension is becoming quite a popular word in terrestrial mouths. The time will come when some humans are allowed to leave Earth and bring their bodies with them. But that’s another story.”

“In due course, you will easily be able to move in matter and walk out of and into your ethereal body when needed,” Zar stated. “But never count on a long visit in the physical world; your substitute body cannot manage that. You will have missions to perform, and after that you come back.”

“I once saw a film called Lost Horizon,” I answered. “In the end, an ethereal woman followed her beloved back to the physical world, but at once she lost her ‘physical’ body and aged a hundred years in a couple of minutes. Now I understand why. Perhaps the author of the book and the film had more knowledge than what I imagined back then. Now I certainly choose not to return to Earth for any longer period. I am having such a wonderful time on ‘the other side.’”

“Good!” Zar exclaimed with emphasis. “Say good-bye to our host, and we will return home.”




 





13. Back to Shamballa

Once back through the tunnels to Shamballa, I first thought that everything I’d experienced with the Tibetan was a dream. When I informed Zar of my reflections, he just laughed heartily and told me that my experiences had been as realistic as a traveler in two worlds could wish for. I had passed the Realms of Dreams a long time ago, and the reality that the Ethereal World offered seemed much more alive to me than the physical life upon Earth. When Shala met us in Shamballa I embraced her particularly sincerely, in order to feel where I really was. Laughingly, she loosened herself from my tight hug and said: “What happened to you? You have only been away for a moment!” Did I still have so much left in me from the earthly Jan that I hadn’t adapted to the rhythm of time here? Was my confusion temporary? “Your reaction is completely natural,” Zar comforted me. “You have experienced something rather subversive, and your body has not yet learned to follow the dissolving and the re-stabilizing of the cell-structure and vice versa. There are different levels of materialization. You have learned the first one. It has affected your mind temporarily, but you will soon get better. You cannot yet master one of the great Cosmic Laws to perfection, but it is a good start.”

“DNA dwells in the genes, which dwell in the cells,” I pondered. “DNA is my identity-mark in my physical body. What identity-mark do I have, on one hand in a body that I create but which really doesn’t exist, and on the other in this ethereal body?”

“Hm,” Zar answered, pondering. “Good question. Substitute bodies need no DNA, because they are not permanent and not given birth to by a woman. Look upon the substitute body as a kind of robot where your soul resides temporarily and gives life to the physical structure. Your identity-mark in this body is your monad, your immortal spark of life, the one you have seen floating in the Cosmos at the beginning of all time. That is the most important identity-mark that exists, Jan. Remember that!” While we were talking, we took a walk on the golden streets. I was so deep in my thoughts that I had not paid attention to look around, when I suddenly discovered that we were standing in front of an enormous cathedral. Again, I thought that I had never before seen such a beautiful building. Not even the cathedral in Chartres, which is my ideal, had such clean lines, such exquisitely beautiful mosque-like roofs as this one. There are also beautiful churches in Russia, but this one topped everything I had seen. “Such a stunningly beautiful church!” I exclaimed, and took a step backwards. “Church?” Shala asked, and let her cheerful laughter be heard. “There are no churches here. This is the Council Hall.”

“The Council Hall?” I wondered, a bit surprised. “What a strange town hall.”

“No, the Council Hall,” Zar corrected. “It’s the most important building throughout Shamballa. We have neither priests nor churches. I say again: What would we use them for? We all come from the Great Spirit. We are all his children. We are all brothers and sisters. In the Council Hall we meet when we have our consultations. Sometimes the Great Spirit joins us; on other occasions the Elohim and the archangels come here. Sometimes the Nine Elders are visiting us from Sirius. Let’s go inside, and you will see.” It’s impossible to describe what I saw. You cannot compare this house to a castle, whose gaudy interior and decoration are beautiful to a human eye. Why would I try to describe the most sublime of buildings, when words fail me? The reader must be content with trying to understand that colors, music, and scents can be united into something more than you can imagine: an atmosphere so sacred, yet so warm and full of love, that unaccustomed eyes are filled with tears. I have read about Shamballa, I have visualized it when I lived on Earth, but I never, ever came anywhere close to this. Shamballa is not only a golden city with lovely gardens and beautiful houses. Shamballa is inhabited by the highest of beings, if I now would allow myself to grade them. I knew that I wasn’t allowed to stay in this paradise, but before I left it I got to experience meetings that forever were imprinted in my mind, no matter how ethereal it is nowadays. You arrive in a place like this with the leftovers of your rough, unpolished manners, those which you have brought from the coarse artistic circles at the restaurants Den Gyldene Freden and Konstnärsbuffén in Stockholm. 

You have sat in smoky artist dens discussing life, without having the slightest idea what eternal life means. You have drudged as a shopkeeper. You have mucked out the pigs for noble gentlemen while they sat drinking their evening brandy and soda, looking out over their vast estates without giving a thought to who is cutting their grass or tending their flowerbeds – let alone thinking of who was looking after their cattle in the pastures. Where is my beautiful native country heading right now, as I fall on my knees in silent admiration at the altar of Beauty? Is there someone out there who understands? “It must have cost a fortune to build this magnificent palace!” escaped me thoughtlessly as we wandered around the halls. “You should have learned about the power of thought by now,” Zar admonished me austerely. “The whole of Shamballa is created by powers that have absolutely nothing to do with economics – or slavery. The city is created for and by the Masters in consultation with the Great Spirit. And it took place so long ago that your thoughts are unable to grasp it.” I felt a little ashamed, and I wondered why I always would make comparisons with Earth. Perhaps it is because I am writing this book, and that way, I have a certain connection to my old life. We had sat down on a sofa for a little rest, and so my thoughts necessarily went back to dirt and envy. But suddenly a tall, blond woman was standing in front of us. I recognized her immediately, even though it was so long since we met. It was Helia, the Spider-Woman, the Earth Mother. “Welcome back to the Worlds of Light, Jan!” she greeted me. “You have struggled for a long time on Earth, life after life, but now that work is completed. At your own request, you have been granted the immortality you at times sang about and longed for. Now you are allowed to create a future here with the help of your thoughts and readiness to learn. You are an adept of the Masters and you belong to a Soul Group you know well and are used to working with. You will continue to do that, but no earthly life awaits you anymore. You wear the deep blue cloak, the one which characterizes those who will stay here. Only a few of your friends wear it, too. Your teachers have shown you Shamballa, because even if you will be domiciled in the Angelic Realm, you need to know the way here. It may happen that you must use your substitute body in order to materialize on Earth, but as long as you are an adept, you may only do it under our guidance. Zar and Shala will guide you and help you, as long as you need them. When you need me, you know where to find me.” 







My Home Is in the Angelic Realm

She embraced me and disappeared as suddenly as she had appeared. Soon after that, we left the magnificent palace. I felt more at home in the Angelic Realm than with the Masters. I always had some difficulties bending my long spine, and even if that wasn’t needed in Shamballa, I couldn’t completely be myself there. The solemnity felt a bit suffocating. With the angels there is humor, warmth, laughter, and tears – all these things that a human is accustomed to. Everyone helps everyone, and all have interesting things to tell. You learn so many new things. My visit to Tibet was, of course, incredibly exciting, and I have nothing against another visit. The Tibetan Master promised me that we would meet again, and I look forward to that. I have many more things to learn from him. It is from the Angelic Realm that I am dictating this book to my medium. According to earthly chronology, I have been here about thirty years, but days and nights here don’t depend on Sun and Moon, and we don’t divide day and night as you do. We live in the wholeness. Your Gregorian calendar doesn’t suit The People of the Sun and the Stars. They lived according to a chronology that is more in accordance with the Mayan calendar. You ought to do that, too. But the way Earth looks today, close to the new century, you don’t change time, no matter how changeable it is. I understand that you would like to know more about how I live here. I will tell you about it now. If you don’t believe me, I suppose you must wait until you come here yourself. However, it isn’t certain that you will experience the same things as I have. You may get an entirely different view of it all. In that case I hope, for your sake, that it will be a positive view! The Angelic Realm is so big that it cannot be measured by earthly standards. Here everything is in perfect order, both when it comes to our way of living, nature, and working methods. Everyone gets their tasks, and I had to start from the beginning to learn the different ways of being an angel. The first thing I learned was to move myself with the power of thought and to create wings. We have an ethereal form if we like, or else we can emerge as merely light. Personally, I prefer to have a body, no matter how light and unphysical it is. Since my whole mental activity remains, it feels stupid to run about without a body. Well, that’s my personal opinion, at least. I also would rather be able to see the person I’m talking to. So if somebody starts a conversation without me seeing a thing of him or her, I can become rather rude. I tell the person in question to show themselves or else … well, I’m not going to be ignoble. Sometimes my earthly side gets hold of me – but here they understand and forgive straight away. I got to learn to meditate properly. It’s easier here; my brain is somehow clearer. On Earth I often mixed up daydreaming and meditation, which was disadvantageous to the job I was doing at that point. Here meditation is regarded as work! Could you imagine: to sit comfortably alone or in a group and concentrate on helping individuals or the Earth, is counted as work! I like that, when the concentration among other things can produce wings that you can fly with (if you want to). What a happiness! I remember myself as a child, when I had cut out a pair of wings from newspaper. I was going to try them on behind the barn, where no one could see me. I paid no attention where that door faced, I just wanted to fly! When I jumped out in the open air where my wings would support me, I instead fell headlong into the dung heap. I would rather forget what followed! Now my wings support me, even if they just are a kind of substitute engine for my light body. Actually, they are not needed, but since creative power is given unto me (under certain conditions!) I like to practice by taking a trip now and then. In reality, I only need to think myself to a place – and like a shot, I’m there! It’s almost too comfortable. It was difficult separating from my guardian angel Jolith, but she was radiantly happy. She had been tied to her human – in this case, Jan – for such a long time, and now she was set free to work in another part of the Angelic Realm. One can choose if one wants to remain a guardian angel but also when one wants to stop doing that and develop further in other areas. What kind of areas, the reader probably asks? I soon learned that the Angelic Realm contained the most varied fields of work. To the utmost possible extent, you yourself got to choose the area in which you had the most interest, but then you first had to get through an education or training that matched your personal wishes. For instance, if you wanted to stay on Earth as a helper of some sort, you first had to learn how to work in and with the invisible. Angels wander invisibly around, everywhere on Earth. But why don’t they do anything, you might ask? Why don’t they save humans from diseases, 

accidents, drugs, violence? Why is there so much evil? The answer is: because of man’s “free will”! Not even angels have the right to go against it. And another thing: man’s karma. The law of cause and effect is inexorable. The angels have lots of restrictions, because every human being has their own path to experience. Have you ever heard someone say “he had a guardian angel?” You can be sure he did! I am reunited with my Soul Group. Besides me, there are only two of us who wear the deep blue cloak – one man and one woman. The three of us got to operate as teachers in the group. We had gone through the same school and learned everything from the beginning. Together we have swum in the air-ocean as small sparks of life, and after that we have joined the great, wonderful Creation. We didn’t meet in my last life on Earth in Sweden, but we knew each other well from other incarnations. The man is called Henry and the woman’s name is Tiri. All three of us are at different stages of development, even as angels, and therefore we teach in entirely different ways. From an earthly perspective, it feels a bit silly for me to call myself an “angel.” But everyone who ends up in the Angelic Realm is called angel, even if it doesn’t really correspond to the earthly term. Angels are not an “ethereal people,” or anything else that is in accordance with the view of the Bible. Angels are Lightworkers and their tasks vary tremendously. Shala belongs to the Angelic Realm. Zar comes from the Masters Realm. I had one of each kind, so I could be guided and learn to evolve for my task as a Lightworker. What that task is, I still haven’t fully understood. I believe the expression “you grow with your task” suits me well. I also believe you can have several tasks, which gradually radiate out from the same core. They are part of the growing that continues for as long as you wish. But so far, my job suits me very well. I tell my readers about the different Worlds and their Realms. Many authors have already done this. There are authors who, through a channel, have described their lives after death. Those descriptions don’t bear any resemblance to what I have told you. Therefore, the reader must take his/her own stand to what I describe and take in those things which feel right. Each author has visited his own kind of World on this side. Each receiving medium thinks in her own way, interprets in her own way, and has her own ambitions. The important thing for all of us who convey messages from the World of Light is to make our light and our love come alive for our readers. I also think it’s important that every Soul Group mediates its knowledge in different words, because humans are so different, assimilate things in different ways, wish and think differently. These differences are confusing. It is because of them that there are so many religious views, when actually one single God is enough, one single Love doctrine. That’s how it was meant from the beginning. Everything was simpler then. Nowadays, there is enormous confusion. This is represented in art, in music – in fact, in the whole society of today. Earth is the main concern for the angels. There are other planets that also need help, but none in such difficulties as Mother Earth. That’s why I would like this book to be an answer to many cries for help, an answer that can give comfort and bring relief to thoughts of despair. Unfortunately, it is only possible to teach those who really listen to think in such a way that the power finds the right path.


 





14. Disobedience Is Punished

There is a word called “precipitate.” It is used to describe how a thought wish is realized. I have always wondered how it works. Now I know, but I didn’t acquire that knowledge without pain. Perhaps the word pain doesn’t fit so well in the Angelic Realm, but one can do stupid things even here. I could, anyway! What I am going to tell you now may sound like a fairy tale. However, I promise that this has happened to me “for real” here. It is one of the lessons that made me laugh a lot afterwards – but on that occasion I wasn’t laughing. I now live in a wonderful little house. I didn’t want a big, elegant place to live. I would rather recreate something like my old farm cottage, which eventually became our family’s summer cottage. I was able to write there – my imagination flowed there, and I enjoyed every minute in that environment. It had grown together with me. That was what I wanted here, too, because the Angelic Realm is the land of possibilities, where you create what you wish for. But in the beginning, it was the very dwelling that caused me a lot of trouble. When Shala and Zar left me with my Soul Group after the journey to Shamballa, Henry asked me where I lived. If I had no place to live, I was welcome to sleep at his house. He is a happy, easy-going person, who radiates exuberant benevolence. I decided to accept his offer, because I had forgotten to ask Shala about a dwelling. Perhaps what followed was a test, although I didn’t know about it. I followed Henry to his house. It proved to be built in a castle style, and when he saw my surprise, he asked me if I didn’t remember that his name in Italy had been Enrico and that we had incarnated together in a similar house. The palace was creamy white, and on the front side it was ornamented like a croquembouche. On the inside, it was a giant nightmare. Henry obviously loved extravagant rococo style, with gold and bows everywhere. I didn’t want to hurt my old friend’s feelings, so I gave him a kind smile when he showed me where to sleep: a room of dazzling luxury, a four-poster bed with golden ornaments, and “inspiring” paintings of bedroom scenes. “How did you put this together?” I wondered carefully. “It’s all precipitated,” he proudly answered. “Have you not learned that yet?”

“No,” I answered, “only to materialize and dematerialize my own body.”

“Oh my!” Henry exclaimed and stared at me in surprise. “I haven’t learned that yet. You must be a highly evolved soul!”

“Let’s not make comparisons,” I warned. “The angels use different teaching methods for us because we are so different. But do you mean that this kind of palace can be conjured forth by the mere thought?”

“Not only palaces,” Henry answered contentedly. “Everything, just everything! I can teach you. It is very simple.”

“Do you think we are allowed to?” I asked, to be on the safe side. It sounded exciting, and moreover, I didn’t feel like living in this marzipan cake for very long. “Of course,” was his calm answer. “We belong to the same Soul Group, and we are supposed to help and teach each other. It would be strange not to!” Henry was right. Precipitating was much easier than materializing and dematerializing. It didn’t take me long to understand how to do it, since I had learned to concentrate deeply. It was one of the first things you learned in the Angels’ School. To precipitate implies deep concentration. You concentrate hard on the object you wish to manifest. Every detail of it must be ready in your thoughts when you start. We began with some minor objects. I wished for a pair of white socks. There must be a need for one’s wish, in order for the experiment to succeed. I looked down at my bare feet in the sandals, waved my toes a little, and really felt how frozen they were. After a few moments, a pair of thin white socks was lying in my hand. It worked! The next object I wished forth for myself was a bicycle. Henry roared with laughter. “It doesn’t suit well in these surroundings,” he cried, as I excitedly cycled away from him. “You don’t use bicycles here.” I leaned my bicycle against a tree and carried on with my very own magic. After a while, a big table stood in Henry’s garden. On it were a bunch of carrots, a torch, a loaf of bread and a tub of butter, a pair of underpants, and a chamber pot. “What a strange mixture,” Henry muttered. “What are you going to do with all those things?”

“You told me to create the small things before I started on the house, didn’t you?” I reminded him. “I’m going to continue with the furniture. This was great fun! I could go on forever.” So I did. It wasn’t long before I stood half-buried in household utensils, clothes, carpets, curtains, furniture, and tools. Behind Henry’s cream-cake house was a garden with a huge lawn. That’s where we were located. Imagine my surprise when Shala suddenly appeared. Henry and I were in full swing, creating fancy goods. He was really skilled. Not even the originator of Meissen china could have told the difference between his own work and Henry’s. “What are you doing?” Shala cried. “Are you crazy? Are you precipitating for fun, big grown-up angel-boys? Have you forgotten where you are? If Zar finds out about this, I don’t know what he will do with you. To make jokes is one thing, but this is no joke, this is wasting the gifts of the Great Spirit. Now watch me!” In one single moment, all we had created forth was wiped out, including Henry’s cake castle and the garden. “I came here to look after you and see if our newcomer Jan had a bed to sleep in. What do I find? Two little boys playing with creation. These are the kind of games which are about to finish up your beloved Earth. Abuse of power is another term for it.” I fell on my knees before Shala. I felt so ashamed, I could not look her in the eye. She stood silently for a long time, looking at us. Henry had sat on the ground, with his hands covering his face. We were devastated. “Get up!” Shala commanded. “I think the mere fright is punishment enough for you. Jan, you must promise me not to precipitate one more single object before you have learned more about it in the Angels’ School. This was a pale imitation of the real procedure, and what you have created forth could just as easily disappear. Henry, you must create a more suitable dwelling. Your castle was too ostentatious. I cannot believe that such foolish talents still remain within you. We’ll have to get rid of them before you can proceed. I will talk to your teachers.” She disappeared, and Henry and I looked at each other blankly. We hadn’t meant any harm or done any wrong consciously; maybe that was why we were spared more punishment. Henry was fond of knick-knacks, and I was, as usual, curious of my own capability. When we first came to the Angels’ School, we had learned self-control and simplicity. I was a master of the latter, but the former was a quality that I had always lacked, and so did Henry. When we returned to school, we were punished with a walk through the different Realms of the No Man’s World, in order to discover what the weaknesses in our characters could create. I assure you that it was not a pleasant walk! We got to visit the abode of the unblessed souls, purgatory or hell, whatever it’s called, and watch the self-imposed suffering that leads nowhere. After that, we returned home and got to meditate on the contact with our own Inner Selves. I don’t know how long this punishment went on. It seemed a very long time for both of us, although it maybe was only a few hours. Meanwhile, Tiri worked on much more exciting things. Occasionally she came over and told us, to give us an idea of what delights were in store for us. Tiri is a very captivating person. I have never been particularly obedient. A little spirit of rebellion lives in my chest, which I have a hard time keeping in check, even here. Zar, of course, knows about this. It was a long time after our prank before I was allowed to meet him again, and it felt empty. Neither did Shala appear. At first I felt offended, and thought that friends may not abandon each other. Then I examined my inner self. I realized that it must be absolutely pure when I was taught by my leaders. I worked hard during this period. I got to meet near ones and dear ones who had passed the border, but not yet incarnated again. When they were to “go down,” I was called to them and explained to them the importance of keeping a pure consciousness and filling their thoughts with love when they were reborn. Each of them brought along a gift to Earth, a positive quality to manage and develop in the best way. Some of them were scared of being reborn, but understood that it was necessary, since they had not finished their karma. I calmed them and gave them good tasks that they hopefully would remember sometime on Earth. I distributed power and positive energies, I supported and encouraged them. These experiences took place in many different Worlds where I was called to take care of souls in various stages of development. After an interesting and instructive time I had finished this work, and finally I was allowed to meet Shala and Zar again. 






15. The Ashtar Command

“My dear friend!” Zar exclaimed, and embraced me. “When you lived on Earth, it was important for you to understand that you were responsible for your own life. You were responsible to yourself when you had chosen your path – not to anybody else. You were responsible for your family, but only temporarily. You could never blame others when you had done something silly yourself. To lay one’s blame upon others is not accepted here. You have been held accountable for exactly that thing. When you precipitated, you blamed Henry all along within yourself. He was the one who had taught you, he was the one to blame for your exaggeration by taking part in it. But here, in the Angelic Realm, one must take responsibility for one’s own actions. If one cannot do that, one has to move to a World where one learns to understand that truth. You don’t need to do that. We have looked into your heart and we know the inner Jan. You are about to learn who you are, something that every individual asks herself at one time or another. Who am I? Why am I me? Will I always remain me?”

“Oh yes,” I eagerly interrupted, “those are certainly questions I have asked myself many times.”

“The answer is easier than you think,” Zar said, smiling. “I guess you will figure it out gradually; I won’t serve it up for tea. Now we will continue your education on another level, and Shala and I will accompany you the whole time. First, we are going to travel together again. You’ll get to visit our military facilities that are located on the outskirts of the Ethereal World.”

“I was never more than a lance-corporal,” I muttered. “Soon you will meet several generals,” Shala said, laughing. “I must inform Jan of one thing,” Zar interrupted. “There is a Galactic Confederation that guards Earth, in order to be able to step in if nuclear disturbances threaten both the planet and the surrounding ether. The space fleet in charge is known by the name of Ashtar Command. It has participants both from the Masters’ and the Angelic Realms, but also from other planets, galaxies, and Universes.” I don’t know if I should describe what was now shown to me as a military base with an elongated citadel, or as an airfield of a different kind. It went all around the Ethereal World and contained hangars, dwellings for the various troop units, large digital facilities (as it looked to my ignorant eyes), and much, much more. There were many other buildings, spacious parks and gardens, bathing establishments, training fields, and enormous landing grounds everywhere. I got to see beings that did not appear particularly human. It was like walking straight into a science-fiction story. Some of them were reminiscent of animals; some resembled the traditional image of humanoids, with spindly bodies and large heads, enormous eyes, and rudimentary noses, mouths, and ears. All these beings radiated Love. There was feverish activity, yet in the middle of their work, these beings broke off to come up and embrace us in the most unmilitary way. To my surprise, I discovered that I could communicate with them. They seemed intelligent and quick-witted. I asked them about their machines and other technical equipment. When I had gotten so far, Zar interrupted me. “Shala and I are leaving now,” he said. “We’ll leave you here for some time. It is a part of your education as an adept to be familiar with everything that goes on in the Ethereal World, as well as in the other Worlds. If you work with the Ashtar Command for a while, you will really learn how to work in an unselfish and loving way. We will come and pick you up when you are finished with this.” He was off like a shot, and I was left standing there. But I didn’t even have time to ponder my situation before a young man in a white uniform patted me on the shoulder in a friendly way. “My name is Tone, and I have been commissioned to show you the way about here,” he said. “Come with me, please!” He took me to my lodging, a cozy and comfortable room in one of the rows of houses I had seen during our flight. “Now, I’ll first take you to the base,” Tone continued. “The commander-in-chief wants to see you, to give you your first task.” The commander-in-chief looked like a Native American. It is true that he was dressed in the same white uniform as Tone, but his headdress was different. It consisted of an enormously high, ornate and jeweled diadem, with long drops dangling at his sides and a bush of multicolored feathers, gently swinging in the light breeze. “Yes, I was an American Indian chief in my last earthly incarnation,” he said, with a smile (of course, he had 

read my thoughts). “Here I represent The People of the Sun and the Stars from Zio. As you understand, I come from the outskirts of this galaxy, far away. But I am well informed about everything which concerns this galaxy and what a bad state Earth is in. You will for some time be part of my army as a light warrior. Don’t misinterpret the word ‘warrior.’ We are peaceful fighters, and our most important weapon is Love. Is that clear, combatant?” Phew, I thought, as my memories of being a soldier came back to me. But I straightened my light legs and saluted. The American Indian chief, whose name was General Kualli, as I got to know later on, looked at me in a friendly way. “Here you have nothing to fear,” he said. “You cannot compare my regiment with an earthly counterpart. Slavish discipline is something for humans. Here everyone performs his/her duty and we have a good time together. It’s as simple as that. You obey your inner voice, which in turn comes from the Great Spirit. That is the kind of obedience we expect from you.” To my great surprise, he embraced me first and subsequently Tone, who was still standing at my side. Later on, when I asked Tone about my task, he answered with a broad smile, “You will simply belong to my unit. First you will be given more suitable clothes, and after that you will meet the pals.” The clothes consisted of a white, tight silver-shimmering suit in two parts. A short white cape went with it. A circular disc with symbols on it was applied on the chest. It was very beautifully designed, and I fingered it with interest. Tone swiftly removed my fingers from the jewelry. “The disc is a kind of alarm device,” he explained. “You couldn’t know that. One is supposed to press here and there with various codes that you must learn. Here’s a belt with pockets in it. There you keep a crystal, which serves as communication when you are very far away. There is also a holster for weapons that you will obtain information about later. Sometimes they are necessary to carry. This is an amethyst-device that directs the course when it is set to pathfinder mode. Radar is the closest word to explain its functions. It triggers warnings when needed, and it finds every path in the whole galaxy.” I was back at school again. But I was at once admitted into the peer gang, and to my great surprise, Tiri was included there. This is obviously no male-dominated society, I thought cheerfully, as I embraced her. “No, there are several women here, as you can see,” she said, laughing. “But no one is as beautiful as you!” I whispered in her rosy ear, where a cascade of red-golden curls just had been liberated from the compulsory hood that we all wore. It was the same material as the suits. It was a tight fit around the head and didn’t leave the slightest tuft loose. All of us had different emblems on our caps. They were probably coded, too. To my great delight, there was an eagle on my emblem. It is the bird I admire the most. It symbolizes boldness and freedom, two qualities I think I have always carried within myself. What did we learn in this different “cadet school?” Answer: Everything! We prepared ourselves for earthly visits, we learned materialization and dematerialization – although I already knew that. We learned to tackle all imaginable situations which might arise in connection with our surveillance tasks. We learned to eliminate poisonous gases, to obliterate all other toxic emissions that exist everywhere in the atmosphere around the Earth, and which threaten to damage the nearest planets and stars. The holes in the ozone layer must be mended or the rays of the Sun will kill instead of giving warmth. There must be watchmen in many places, both on Earth and in the atmosphere around it, who can intervene in case of urgent states of emergency. 








Mission North America

After all the philosophy of life I hitherto had acquired, it was almost a pleasant feeling to get some more practical tasks. It was even more pleasant when I was commanded on an important mission together with Tiri. We were going to Earth in our ethereal bodies, and we were not allowed to materialize unless it was absolutely necessary. The mission concerned a nuclear power station in North America. It was a very serious situation, because there was a risk of a meltdown. We had to make sure that such a scenario was prevented. If there was a meltdown, it would cause more misery than we could ever imagine. We were summoned to General Kualli to get instructions on how to behave. “Kualli means ‘good’ in Native American,” Tiri whispered to me, before we were entering the General’s room. “A binding name,” I whispered back. “He is the best!” Tiri replied, and I felt very curious. Tone was there, too. To my great surprise, the General himself was going to escort us. “I will come with you to monitor the work,” he explained. “Tone has worked with atomic explosions during his life on Earth. Jan knows Earth better than the rest of us, and furthermore, he has both sense and imagination. Tiri represents yin, and moreover, she is bold and ingenious. But first, I will explain the strategic situation. A teacher will soon come and tell you how to go about it, and thereafter we will meet in hangar Tellus when you are ready for departure.” It’s not a matter of hours and minutes here. What happens usually happens very swiftly, and our instructor for the journey to Earth was both quick and efficient. We obtained lots of information that we brought along in a kind of microchip. Soon we had installed ourselves in a craft that I thought resembled a UFO. I asked why we couldn’t travel through the underground tunnels like I had with Zar. Kualli answered that the Ashtar Command uses only spacecraft and that the tunnels were used mostly by the Masters. I felt a bit jittery going back to Mother Earth in this kind of craft and in addition going “abroad.” I wasn’t exactly an accustomed America traveler. The beacon “Tall Jan” from good old Sweden was now a beacon in a double sense. I have always considered Sweden the most beautiful country in the world – but then of course, I haven’t experienced many other places to compare it with. Tiri came from New Zealand, but I didn’t even dare to think that far away. Yet she had the looks of a Swedish lass. Yes, she actually reminded me of one of the girls that used to be up at the mansion when I was a boy – those who were known as trainees and who you peeped at on the sly. It was night when we landed in a desert place. Our ethereal bodies could, of course, not be affected by the highly dangerous emission, in case that would happen. Without major difficulty, we managed to gain entry to the nuclear power station. So there we were! All four of us stood hand in hand in the gigantic building. Such power stations had been in their infancy during my last decade on Earth. So now I found myself in the middle of this dangerous building, and guess if I was curious! We didn’t experience the atmosphere there the same way as the physical humans did, but we really got to experience how human nature expressed itself in various ways. Some people worked silently and intensively, trying to prevent the meltdown, others were simply hysterical. Some just yelled. The catastrophe was imminent when we intervened. The leakage had started, even if it was on a small scale. I will not weary my readers by describing in detail what we did, because my technical knowledge is very poor. Neither do we want to take the credit for saving the nuclear power station, while competent humans risked their lives in order to save the lives of others. Tiri and I worked on the destruction of the dangerous poison before it had time to penetrate the humans. We protected them with clean air-curtains and embedded them in clouds of ethereal tinctures of balsam, which penetrated their bodies and served as defense mechanisms. Kualli and Tone entered straight into the meltdown. I dare not imagine what they did there, but the leakage ceased very rapidly. At one point, things were about to go wrong. Tiri was so eager to save and help that she forgot about her invisibility. It can happen to any of us when we get excited – it has happened to me, too. Tiri was in the act of helping a hysterical woman who was just crying and crying. She tried to influence the woman mentally, but nothing helped. Tiri’s loving attempts to penetrate the woman’s howls with calming vibrations resulted in that she unconsciously started to materialize because of the strain. I was occupied working in another quarter, but I caught sight of Tiri’s incipient physical form and hurried to her side. I succeeded in averting the materialization so that my unsuspecting colleague regained her ethereal body. Then I plunged the yelling woman into a deep sleep. Since there was 

such turmoil, and everybody ran pell-mell, nobody had discovered what was going on. Someone seized the sleeping woman and dragged her out of the building. Tiri cried with relief. Kualli praised me afterwards, but Tiri felt ashamed before me. She kept close to Tone throughout the journey home, and I conversed with Kualli. I increasingly admired and respected this remarkable man. He asserted that before the humans on Earth understand that they must try to find their way back to their origin, to the old way of living together in community and peace – before then, there is no solution to the problems of modern times. He illustrated the situation of the Native Americans in a different way than what I had heard before. The first people were becoming the last of their kind. Nowadays, the color of your skin determines if you have civil rights or not. The white skin color considers itself superior to all the others; the white-skinned Adam is, according to the Bible, the first man on Earth, and woman is just a product of him. She is the temptress and the slave. “But Adam was not the first man on Earth,” Kualli maintained. “There were both men and women among The People of the Sun and the Stars. The skin color of the people from Zio was the result of pigment, not a reason for evaluating each other. All humans have the same value. The love for the Creator and for your neighbor is the only religion we should follow.” This and much more, the handsome Native American told us. He only had one mission before his eyes: to save the planet that had belonged to The People of the Sun and the Stars right from the origin. Every human being is descended from them. “You cannot recreate the old, but you can build something new and valuable that is accepted by a whole Earth,” he considered. I listened attentively. “How about evil, General, where does it go?” I asked. “Those who carry their evil, their violence, their abuse, and most of all their desire for power on the outside, those who live in it and for it, will not remain on Earth in new lives. We have arranged places for them on other planets, where they will learn new ways of living and where they can atone for their crimes – above all the violence against their own Self.”

“What is the future for Earth?” I wondered. “You have heard about the ‘changes,’ haven’t you?” he answered, with a swift smile. “You have heard of catastrophes, famines, wars and civil wars, floods, and earthquakes, right? Isn’t that enough to explain that not only has Mother Earth had enough, but so has her Creator? But now we are guiding Earth towards a brighter day. We are under the command of the Great Spirit, although we are called the Ashtar Command. Ashtar only takes orders from the Creator himself, and he is our link to the Great Spirit. The Earth’s living heart is beating in our hands, and her tears are our power source. We are the knights of space and the spiritual warriors of Earth. It is with pride, joy, and humility that I thank you, my skilled co-workers, for your contribution today. This time there won’t be such dire consequences for earth and sea, but we must keep our eyes on the nuclear power stations. The risk of accidents due to human error always lurks in the background.” Perhaps my readers think that I am lecturing? Be like this, do that, and you will be a worthy member of Our Lord’s pasture. But try to understand that I do not have the intention of being a wiseacre or to convince you of what is right or wrong. I fully trust that you know that best yourselves. I just want to tell you about all the wonderful and fantastic things I have experienced, and at the same time show you that I still have many human weaknesses left. I will now tell you about one of them. 








About Earthly Emotions and All-Love

When we returned to our beautiful barracks, a feast was waiting for us. Feasts occur frequently here, but they are not the drinking-bouts they are on Earth. We meet and eat and drink the cosmic way, and that means that our food is quite different from anything my readers can imagine. It’s not possible to describe it in more detail. We listen to music and we experience light-theater. It’s also difficult to put our entertainment into words. Light-theater could be formatting of angels to music, it could be images in extraordinary colors and patterns, it could be song, speech, and not the least, dance. I hurried to take a seat next to the lovely Tiri before somebody else did. She had avoided me all along. “What’s the matter with you?” I asked, in a rather indignant tone. “First I save your life, and then you dissociate yourself from me. Don’t you know how much I like you?”


“Yes, that’s exactly what I do know,” she replied, and started to laugh. “Saved my life – aren’t you funny! But when you helped me over there, your soul came so close to mine that I couldn’t avoid feeling its radiation. That was also a dangerous radiation, Jan. Well, you know that I am grateful, and I like you, too. But among the first things we learned in Angels’ School was to eliminate as much as we could from our personal ego-emotions, in order to be included in the Law of Divine, Unconditional Love. Have you forgotten that? We are not allowed to feel the personal, individual love between man and woman, Jan. Not the kind I felt coming from you. Desire belongs on Earth. We’re allowed to love each other and live together here in perfect soul-love, but that’s quite another thing.”

“Yes, I know, and I understand,” I replied irritably. “But I haven’t been able to control my emotions that arise when I see you. Furthermore, you belong to my Soul Group, so there is a glorious mess inside of me.”

“That mess is your responsibility,” she said, smiling. “In addition, every soul has its Dual, and that’s who it belongs to. So it’s not worthwhile going out on the loose while your flame is down on Earth incarnating, as are both yours and mine. But just wait till we meet them! Maybe we can persuade them to stay with us, in order to avoid heart-rending scenes like this.” Heart-rending scenes, I thought. Obviously I still have far too many Janne-emotions of both the one and the other kind. When I looked up, I saw Zar’s eyes fixed on me. He raised his goblet, and I saw a roguish gleam in his eyes. “It’s all becoming clearer!” he shouted, right across the table. “You and I need to talk about emotions!” That’s exactly what we did. A little later, we sat together in a flowery arbor in the garden. “The most important thing a human has is emotions,” my dear leader began. “I am not a moralist, and here it’s not a question of that kind of thoughts, but the emotions must be guided in the right direction. You know that! Falling in love, desire, and sex are all part of the suffering and the happiness of life on Earth. “We bring pieces of it all with us here, but here it’s time to learn to sublimate those emotions. That doesn’t mean that we’ll get bored, does it? Here you will find all kinds of positive joy, dancing, playing, and singing – but not lovemaking games. We have so much Love and live in it, so that it gives us energies stronger than the rays of the Sun. The energies we emanate are compressed Love. We emanate them to ourselves, to each other, to the Earth, to our entire Universe. These energies are tremendously active. It is with their help we are able to breathe and move. It is from them we derive all the talents we possess. Do you understand?”

“I’m trying to, anyway,” I answered. “Your emotions must be part of the Wholeness,” Zar went on. “From there, they radiate out into the entire Cosmos with the infinite power of universal Love. That is how all of us work. On the other hand, if your emotions overflow and become emotional tradesmen, offering their goods at sale price, you will destroy the power of the energies you emanate.”

“That’s a bit harsh, just because I like somebody a little more than others,” I protested. “You may like as many people as you want,” Zar objected. “You and I and Shala like each other a lot. It’s your earthly bodily emotions that you haven’t succeeded in processing quite yet. These emotions are still there after the crossing in most humans, but many of them stay in the No Man’s World or the Astral World. We need you here, in the Ethereal World. But if you prefer to devote yourself to your desires, you must go back to the No Man’s World, where there is a lot of that kind of thing. If you want to work with the angels and with us, you must learn to control such emotions and instead work with your All-Love. It’s your choice!” 

“Of course I choose to stay here,” I muttered. I felt very distressed at the harsh words, but I have later on understood how important it is to learn to “feel the right way.” Emotions are important, but to control them is even more important. Sublimating one’s emotions is not done at the wave of an angel’s wing! “You were allowed to retain the memory of your last life on Earth. This was necessary for various tasks, including the cooperation with your medium. But now you will return to Kualli, because you have not finished your ‘military’ education yet.” I was glad about staying with Kualli a little while longer. I thought Tiri would be reassigned, but that was not the case. She belonged to Kualli’s protégés, just as before. I cannot call us soldiers, because nothing could be less soldier-like than the life we lived in the Ashtar Command’s barracks. However, there was a very strict discipline, not because of strict orders, but because we ourselves wanted it. Henry was in a completely different part of the gigantic space fleet. Since the regions of the Ashtar Command extended around the whole Ethereal World, there were innumerable departments, military units, camps, and other operations there. If I had still been living on Earth and had fallen in love with a colleague, it would have ended in a relationship or being split up, with removal to separate departments. Here it was the opposite. You were confronted with the problem until it was eliminated. Hard emotional demands were put on me, but I put them there myself. I was the only one who could go inside myself and contact the Higher Self, and that was what was expected of me. When Tiri was nearby, everything was twice as hard, but bit by bit I learned to meditate forth a different relationship to her. She became a very good and devoted friend. I realized that this was the best solution. Neither of us would be deceived if our emotions took over. In the beginning they did. But she simply became the best teacher for me in emotional control. The expression “emotional control” may seem harsh to human ears, but the words do not have the same meaning here as on Earth. Here everything is a merging into the Wholeness and an unselfish, unlimited feeling of Love, which is difficult to explain to an earthling. There, I have just invented a good word! To you, Ashtar and other visitors from other planets are extraterrestrials. To us you are, dear world inhabitants, earthlings. That’s a binding word, because you have to be properly earthed as long as you live on Tellus. My missions were many and far-reaching, and Tiri and I were often sent out together. Sometimes Tone went with us. Tone was a soul who I did not understand. There was a little discomfort between us angels! He was so evasive; I couldn’t get a hold on him. He often smiled instead of answering, and when we were on a mission together, he would suddenly disappear without a word. He was probably clever in his field, but he seemed shy. He was quiet and friendly. However, once he told us that he had died of cancer as the result of working in a nuclear power station in Russia. My other friends were jolly, and several of them belonged to my Soul Group. The feasts we had after every successful mission were something to look forward to. We danced and sang and enjoyed being together – and of course, we still do. I have told you about the nuclear power station. There were other missions, including preventing the expansion of floods, canalizing water, and at the same time purifying it. When major railway accidents and car accidents occurred and many people died, we had to make sure that the right people survived and give them courage and strength. Best of all, I liked working with tasks involving the dark, aromatic soil that I have always loved since childhood. I liked to float around in the forests and prepare the Beings of Nature for all sorts of environmental hardships and help them with cleaning procedures for air, wind, and water, and much, much more. But it was only for a short time that I was sent on such missions. They were “small potatoes,” as Tiri called them. The major tasks involved preventing or at least reducing violence, hatred, and evil, especially in the big cities. I didn’t like big cities – maybe that was why I was sent to Hong Kong, New York, London, Paris, Rome, and many other cities. Big cities are as unpleasant for a spirit as for an earthling, but I learned a lot. I was never allowed to materialize in these places. I was air in the air, even if the city air was so thick that it felt like pancake batter. 








My First Pupil

On one occasion when Kualli called upon me, I had just come from Iraq. It had been an unpleasant experience, even though I was there in a helping and preventive capacity, because a moral disarmament went on there, interspersed with an ominous warlike rearmament. “You have done well for quite a long time,” were Kualli’s words of welcome, making me proud and happy. “Your missions have been dealing with Mother Earth, because you feel such a special affinity with her. I appreciate that, because the old Indian remains as much in me as the farm boy does in you. My entire earthly life was an initiation into Nature. Unfortunately, there will not be much Nature left, if no changes occur on Earth soon. “I have a dream, Jan! I dream of new, fresh grass growing on Earth and new, fresh flowers poking their colorful heads up wherever there is free land. I have a dream that water in lakes, rivers, and seas will be free of poison and that salmon and trout will dance in the brooks. I dream of humans living in fellowship in small communities, with peaceful exchange of words and deeds. I dream of graceful willow trees, dipping their branches in the water while small happy children play on the beaches with Nature’s own toys: stones, pine cones, and sticks. I see an old man sitting amidst them. He is carving a beautiful boat while he is telling fairy tales and legends of times long past. The children listen, because children can always listen as long as the grownups don’t take the listening away from them. “I dream of the mass-media used in a positive way, to help, teach, and delight the humans and also to mediate knowledge of ancient cultures with long since forgotten customs and rituals. All this I would like to give to Earth. Not just me, but the whole Ethereal World wants to see a new Earth. That’s what we are working towards, what we hope for, and what we are trying to implement. “Jan, I have a new mission for you. I want you to take care of a young boy who has recently arrived here. He is from a Swedish incarnation and is called Lasse. He died in a motorbike accident that was arranged by his own gang, who call themselves Hell’s Angels. Tone, bring the boy here!” The General shouted the last sentence into the air, and hey presto, Tone was there with a young man who looked very lost. He was tall and somewhat lanky, with fair, untidy hair down to his shoulders, and his thin, pale face was hardly friendly. He clenched his teeth and looked furtively at me. Yet there was quite a strong light around the boy. His face would have been beautiful if it had been showing a faint smile. His slender hands with long, well-shaped fingers betrayed artistry. I embraced him. He was as stiff as a poker. “Come with me,” I suggested. “and I will show you around.” Inside, I wondered how a boy like this could have ended up in the Ethereal World and if he would really listen to me. “How come you were murdered?” I asked him, while we were strolling in the park. “They didn’t like me,” was his simple answer. “I mean, my mates! I was interested in things they didn’t understand: astrology, alchemy, esotery, and such things.” The boy’s words surprised me. I hadn’t expected knowledge about such things. But of course, there must be a reason for him to be here. “And now you want to stay here?” was my friendly question. “Nope! Thought so at first, but now I long to return to Earth. I thought that I would get even with those bast …” He stopped himself swearing and smiled a bit embarrassed. ‘That’s a beginning,’ I thought. “So, you want to carry on with drugs, violence, and evil?” I asked him coldly. “I never said that.” He turned two big, dark blue and surprised eyes on me, and suddenly the sullen face burst into a big, friendly smile. How beautiful he became! “You want to get revenge for your murders, don’t you?” I exclaimed. “That’s what you said.”

“You can get revenge in several ways,” he answered, still smiling. “I am going to get revenge with Love. I’m going to teach them what life is really about. They called me “the Black Messiah,” because their black souls had dark epithets for everything.”

“You talk as if you had read a lot of books,” I said, astonished. “I finished sixth form last year,” he answered. “Got a bike from my old man, a Harley Davidson. Then it was clear-cut: either join their angels of hell or be pestered by them every time I rode my bike. So I joined them. But when I saw what they were doing, I tried to reason with them. I was actually really in love with a girl who was with them, too. For her sake I continued to play the game, but in the end, I couldn’t hack it. Then it was goodbye 

instead. Five of them drove into me out in the wilderness. What hurt me most was that my girl was with me. It’s sort of meaningless to be born to some kind of missionary and not get the time to be one.”

“And so you came up here?” I continued to ask. “Up, well … at first I thought I was going down. But there were lots of angels around me. Have always believed in angels without the hell’s bit, ha-ha! So I guess I realized that I had come in the right direction, finally. What are we going to do now?” Now I laughed. What a wonderful lad! I really liked him. “Are you sure you’re not going to stay here?” I asked. “It’s tough down on Earth now. Who knows what will happen to you if you end up there again.”

“It’s not that bad,” he answered happily. “Now of course I know where I will come when I kick the bucket. Here seems to be dead good, but no, I need to go back. Shame on the one who gives up!”

“Then you must be taught by me for a while,” I warned him jestingly. “If you insist on going back to Earth, you must bring something back. You must have a task, a mission!”

“That sounds okay,” he answered, and whistled. “Where do we begin?”

“Here and now!” I explained, in a resolute tone. “You are now on a naval base which is under the control of the Ashtar Command. Ashtar is …”

“I know who Ashtar is,” Lasse interrupted. “He is the boss of the whole space-gang. I suppose I have read quite a lot about those chaps. But nothing about you or written by you.”

“I had not expected that either,” I said. “You were born long after the time of the poor farm laborers. But now you will acquire knowledge that you will bring to Earth. It will be filed in your subconscious mind. Do you wish to go back to Sweden?”

“Absolutely!” he answered with conviction. “Preferably to the same mum. And my old man, too. There was nothing wrong with him, except that he never had time for me, because he was a politician with parachutecontracts. So he pretty much slaved his life away. Mum loved to read science fiction and New Age books. I want to be born in Sweden, and later on I want go to the USA and study the Native Americans. I like them!”

“That sounds good, Lasse,” I answered. “Native Americans are your origin. But you have to learn a whole lot before we let you leave. For instance, you must learn to be responsible for your own life. You are a unique individual, as is every human being. You have your aura, your karma, and your dreams. Never forget who you are, that you are here right now, and that you have your own free will. During childhood, you need guidance and love. When you’re grown up, you get your own integrity and must be responsible for your actions. We don’t decide now which parents you will have this time. This is my basis for teaching you, and if you like it, we will start now.” He liked it. And I had my first pupil in the grand, infinite school! I look back on my time with Lasse as something enriching and instructive for both of us. Sometimes Tiri joined in, and she brought something extra special to our conversations. Lasse worshiped the ground on which she was floating, and I laughed up my sleeve at the boy’s yearning. I even felt shared in it. I was beginning to understand myself more and more, and that was thanks to Lasse. I also understood why Kualli had given me this particular boy as a pupil. I informed the dear American Indian chief of that a little later and added that I was really happy that Henry’s and my prank had brought me here. “Did you really think that?” Kualli exclaimed, laughing heartily. “Do you think that this is some kind of convictsettlement? My dear friend, it is an honor and a distinction to take part in the Ashtar Command. Jan, we never punish; we restructure. We knew all along that you had plenty of grit and that you were one of our most gifted adepts. We are happy that you like serving here until it is time for a new promotion.”

“But I want to stay here,” I stammered. “Kualli, you have become like a father to me, and a best friend. You are my ideal, a role-model that I always want to carry within me.”

“Come, come, my boy,” Kualli interrupted, and patted my shoulder. “Let’s not exaggerate. We are all parts of the Wholeness. I won’t stop being your friend after your move. You can see me whenever you want to, and I volunteer as your adviser, if you need that kind of help.” That was, of course, a consolation. I returned to my task with Lasse. He had a sharp intellect, and he stored all knowledge in the right way, so that it could be brought to Earth. In that context, I want to tell the reader that the children who are born into the world now, the last years of the old century and henceforth, bring knowledge from our Worlds and store it so that it lies near the surface and just needs a little nourishment to come to light. 

Lasse at last decided to be born to his own little sister, who had been fourteen years old when he died. Now she was newly married and was dreaming of a child. We had many and long discussions on how he best would use the “luggage” he was bringing. The old culture of the Native Americans formed an important part of his plans for the future. Finally the moment arrived when I accompanied him to the part of the Angelic Realm where the “birthchamber” was. There are birth-chambers in the No Man’s World, in the Astral World, and the Ethereal World, because in all these Worlds there are souls who either want to or have to return to Earth. A last embrace, and after that, loving angels brought Lasse into the beautiful chamber that was the terminal station or initial station – whichever meaning you put into the word. With a heavy heart, I returned to the Angelic Realm. But there a pleasant surprise awaited me. 






16. Helia and Sananda

The farm laborer’s cottage that I loved so when I lived on Earth was standing there, gray and worn in its simple beauty, among birches that had just come into leaf, mighty oaks with swelling buds, and a scent of new-mown grass. The ground under the trees was covered with wild blue anemones, white windflowers, and a few cowslips. Shala and Zar came out of the cottage and welcomed me. This was my reward for a long time of assiduous work at Kualli’s side – for how long, I actually don’t know. My whole Soul Group also got there, and we had an inaugural ceremony, which was the happiest one I’d ever experienced. Now the “higher” education began for the adept Jan, and I was grateful that I occasionally could creep into my cottage and enjoy just to exist in an existence which stretches far beyond the human ability to think. 








The Goddess Helia: The Virgin Mary

It was not only Zar who was conveying the knowledge that I now got to enjoy. To my inexpressible delight, we visited the Master Djwal Khul several times and also met his colleagues. I was allowed to accompany Zar to the Nine Elders, and I got to meet the Master Sananda, alias Jesus Christ. Perhaps this sounds bombastic and affected to the reader’s ears, but that was not the case. All these meetings were happy and cozy. I cannot tell you about everything I got to see and hear; it would be too extensive. But I would like to convey a little bit about the World of the Elohim, the World of the Seraphim, and the Central World of Rays of the Great Spirit. Sometimes I was with my Soul Group, sometimes alone. The Worlds you can see on the Cosmic Map were not all that we experienced. We also traveled to foreign planets and visited other star systems in other galaxies. Helia was the one who told me about the Elohim. It was quite a brief summary, because what these Masters accomplish takes place on so many levels and to such an extent that an earthly brain cannot possibly grasp it. Their field of activities encompasses our whole Universe. “But first of all, I want to talk about the Goddess,” she said. “You don’t know much about her, even though you have been a real lady-killer in several of your lives. I am the Goddess. I carry within me the energies of the Sun and the Moon, the day and the night, and the seasons. But I am also the Mother in everything. I am yin, Sananda is yang, and if he is the son of God, then I am God’s daughter. Together we are Love! “You men have never learned about the Goddess, and therefore the male has gotten the upper hand on Earth. The position of woman has become subordinate. But it has not always been so. To a large extent, it’s the fault of the Old Testament that contempt for women has come to play such a prominent part. In earlier times, women were respected all over the Earth. The woman in confinement, the mother, and the mistress were exalted as ideals among more people than you can imagine. “After that, the New Testament came, with the woman-hater Paul. It is easy to disdain things that you know so little about! You will not find the truth described anywhere, but this is the truth: Sananda and I are brother and sister, born from the same Mother-Father. If this knowledge has been written down somewhere, which was the case on Atlantis, it has been obliterated and forgotten. Yet you have the symbol of the yin-yang sphere, where black and white are intertwined in a uniform and eternal symmetry. Where has the basic meaning of this gone? When we were created, my brother and I, it wasn’t a matter of the strong and the weak. There was absolute equality between strength and weakness, where one makes up for the other and where the cooperation is not only an image, but also action. But the male dominance became a fact, given wings by time. “Thus it was the Goddess who disappeared, and she must appear again in the current century on Earth. Man is about to destroy Mother Earth. Some women follow him in order to enjoy his favors, others are powerless, as onlookers of the approaching catastrophe. But there are Goddesses, both here and on Earth. They cannot appear without help from the women. Bring out the Goddess within you, I ask my sisters. Bring out the Goddess, because she exists there, deep inside of you, even if you don’t dare to recognize her. “I have lived many lives on Earth. In one of them I was the Virgin Mary, when I in human form gave birth to my brother Sananda for the necessary deed he had taken on. That’s when I became the Mother – before that I was only the sister and the Dual. But I was also Inanna with the Sumerians and Isis with the Egyptians. My last ‘performance’ on Earth was as Joan of Arc, the brave woman-warrior in France. There I revealed another aspect: the woman as warrior. “In the beginning there were only seven Elohim, but now there are many of them. They don’t work very much with planet Earth, except that they take part in the Galactic Council, which usually is assembled on the Central Sun. The Central Sun has been situated on Sirius A for a long time. From an earthly scientific point of view, this star is absolutely uninhabitable and consists only of gas fields. The reader must in this context accept the fact that when the human eye gets cosmic functions and is adapted to new dimensions, the whole ‘reality’ you think you live in changes. Many spiritually active humans claim that they have visited the Central Sun. The physical human body would immediately burn up there, but if somebody leaves his body to visit other dimensions, he or she may be programmed in different ways. “Everyone knows about the silver cord, usually called the dog-leash by Jan. It reaches far, but not so far that the owner is allowed to visit such place as the Central Sun or Shamballa. It actually doesn’t reach into the Ethereal World, even if it is said so. If you investigate near-death experiences, you will notice that nobody gets further than 

the Light or possibly the Akashic Records in the No Man’s World. However, people who receive serious messages from the Ethereal World may come to certain domains that are monitored by the Realms of Angels and Masters. If you tear yourself from the silver cord and run away, you must stay on this side. But that seldom happens. When somebody claims to have met the Masters in Shamballa or on the Central Sun, they probably have got the names wrong for these places. Not even I have gained access to the great Secrets.” So far Helia. On several occasions I have told you how vast it is here. I can only tell you my personal experiences after my crossing. I don’t say definitely and dogmatically: This is how it is! There are endless variations. Hence, I ask the reader again to take in what feels right and true when I continue to tell you about the Elohim and the Seraphim. Elohim are light-beings beyond our conceptual realm. Helia informed me that they have assembled a great many highly developed beings and angels in their Realm. Those angels who have joined the Elohim have chosen voluntarily to work in large groups with the entire Cosmos. When I think of the name Elohim I have this vision: “gigantic,” “unlimited,” “undefinable,” and “made of light in different forms.” When I asked her if the Realm of the Elohim resembles the Ethereal World, she just smiled and shook her head. “Everything is light,” she said, “but it is organized light. There is an incredible order in their World. It is not divided into Realms, as here. I cannot describe landscapes or buildings resembling those that exist here. Yet the Elohim are in contact with the whole Universe, and their galactic network is equipped with contact rays and communication rays too advanced even for us. “The only beings I can tell you about who are a bit more ‘sturdy’ are the cherubs – the Cherubim. They exist both there and in the Angelic Realm. The cherubs in the Angelic Realm are a playful group, who make their way in skies of love and joy. With the Elohim, these same cherubs are messengers, designers, and connectors. They connect everything that needs connection, fellowship, and unity. They get around like glittering breaths of air, managing the energies and righting wrongs. Errors can actually happen up here, too.” I was thinking of all the errors I have made and gave her a nod of assent. On Earth, we usually talk about the human factor. Here I guess we might call it the “unexpected factor.” You don’t expect any errors, neither in the Astral World nor the Ethereal – nor by the Elohim. But as long as there are thinking brains, there can be a certain overheating or flash-over. It doesn’t happen often, but it occurs. Let us imagine that the Elohim’s World rises over all the others like a giant fountain in a firework display of color and tone. The word “tone” provides a connection to the next World, the World of the Seraphim. 






An Opportunity to Ask Master Sananda Questions

“What else than tones can exist closest to the Great Spirit, surround his World of rays, and with sounds of wonderful beauty announce his Sun World?” I wondered. “When we are talking about the seraphs – the Seraphim – we are at the same time talking about the MotherFather,” Sananda answered. “To make it easier for you, I’ll demonstrate with a metaphor: Imagine a star with many points. In the center is the Great Spirit, and the Seraphim are the points all around. The Seraphim are the outermost points of the Great Spirit’s will. They forward his wishes and laws, and it always happens through tones, sounds, and music. The tone was the first sound in a quiet and empty Universe. The tone is a creative power, as well as the thought. But even the tone must be controlled. The Great Spirit controls the Seraphim, and they ring out his message to all of his Worlds.”

“Can the Great Spirit or God show himself in person?” I ventured to ask. “Has he any form or shape?”

“Yes,” Sananda answered. “He is the Creator. Why would he not be able to create a shape for himself, when needed? Who is God? So many people have asked that question. What do you think?”

“If I’m bold,” I answered, “I believe God is a very versatile being. He must be, in order to be able to survey his creation. I believe that God’s eye is in the wind and in all of Nature and in our own hearts. I believe he is to be found everywhere where he is loved. I believe he laments for those who hate him or who don’t want to accept him, as much as he mourns for those who make war in his name, because he is Love. I believe he is the keeper and center of the Wholeness. His radiant power is to be found everywhere and in everyone. Then it’s up to all of us, both the physical and the non-physical ones, to meet his power with our own and say, ‘My will is your will!’ Only then our soul will rejoice, because then it will gain access to the Divine tones, and then we will let go of our own will, which has kept us imprisoned in its iron grip all along.” Sananda gave me a warm smile and took my hand. “You are so right, Jan,” he said. “The Father can take any shape he wants to. He is usually always part of the Galactic Council. But he is also exactly the one you describe: a permanent center for the Universal Love in the Wholeness. Let us be content with that. We know he is not a stranger who stands high above us; he is one of us when we so wish, and when he finds it is right. He accepts our prayers and wishes, and he answers when we talk to him, if he thinks we need an answer. For the one who places his absolute trust in him, he is a rock. What more can I say?”

“The severe judge and blood-thirsty despot who is called God or Lord in the Old Testament, I believe never existed,” I thoughtfully answered. “Or did he?”

“Yes, he is a very tangible power from a World I don’t want to call good,” was the answer I received, “and his name is Godonda.”

“But there is one thing I would like to know, Master,” I asked. “How can you reveal yourself to people in different places at the same time? Is that also accomplished by the power of thought?”

“In a way, my friend,” he answered. “I will be more plain. Quite rightly, it is all about projection. I have the gift of projecting myself in different places at the same time. Thus I am here, in the Ethereal World. My projection goes out from my aura in the form of a kind of hologram, but not exactly what you call a hologram. If I call it a ‘thinking hologram’ – how do you interpret that?”

“It’s unthinkable!” I exclaimed. Sananda laughed. “You see!” he said. “Still there remains a great deal of earthly conceptions in Jan. But the unthinkable can be highly thinkable and thinking, I can assure you. It is even a speaking hologram that I send out. Impulses from my brain go out into the holograms, which make a show of being shapes in compact form, but which are completely dissolvable. When I have finished my errand, I dissolve the projection with the power of thought. It’s a miracle for humans, but for me it is only a technical knowhow. I already knew about it when I was Jesus.”

“So at that time you were a hologram?”

“Certainly not. I let myself be born to a woman, so I was completely substantial. But already as a child I had this knowledge embedded in my brain, and there was an open channel to my Mother-Father in ‘Heaven.’ I called it ‘Heaven’ because it was impossible to explain all the different Worlds in the Cosmos to the superstitious humans of that time. Right now you are talking to the core of Sananda. We call the original monad-individual ‘the core,’ which makes it easier for you to understand.” 

“Then what am I? A spirit?”

“You belong to the Angelic World, and you are one of them. You know that. Your present reality is just as real as when you lived on Earth. But here your life firstly is eternal, secondly it has a much wider perspective, and thirdly you are still ‘you.’ Your ambition to be included among the Masters means a novitiate of about a thousand years in Earth-time. Are you frightened by this?”

“It may take as many thousands of years as it likes,” I happily answered. “I’m prepared to be tried again and again. My Soul Group infuses courage and patience into me every time I meet them – which is often. We are now becoming a team who do not wish to incarnate again. We are closely united and share everything with each other.”

“But be aware that it will be a long time before you are ready for a ‘thinking hologram,’” Sananda warned. “We are a special group who learned that magic art from our great teacher Melchizedek, the Master over the Masters. His name has been used in many contexts on Earth, but it doesn’t really matter, because he has many other names. He was the ruler on Zio when the planet was hit by the comet and on Atlantis, long before its fall. These days he also belongs to the Galactic Council, and he is the one of us who totally masters the difficult art of projection. He can probably be in twenty places at the same time and appear to be totally physical, but his core being is in the World of the Elohim.”

“Does he belong to the Nine Elders?” I asked, curious. “Even if he was, I am not allowed to tell you,” Sananda answered cryptically. “Many refer to the Masters as the Hierarchy. We are not particularly happy about that expression, since we are servants of the world. We are cosmic servants; we serve the Great Spirit and his closest council, which is of great holiness.”

“That sounds very complicated to my ears, almost religious,” I objected. “How do you want it to sound when you are talking about the Creator and his Creation?” asked Sananda, smiling. “Reverence and humility are virtues that you still lack, dear friend. Do not protest, I don’t mean it as criticism; it’s just a friendly pat on your shoulder. Your curiosity is good, your appetite for discovery even better, and we don’t take your disrespect seriously. A fair criticism clears away the exaggerations. But now it’s time to send you off on a new adventure! One cannot just get facts by talking, one needs to experience them.”

“There is another thing I would like to know before we part,” I hurried to say. “What is one to believe in all this talk of Ascension to the fifth dimension?”

“The word ‘Ascension’ is perhaps a little deceptive,” said the one who really should know the answer to my question, with a smile. “It sounds as if Earth would be shot up into the Cosmos like a rocket and all the environment suddenly would be transformed into perfect harmony and beauty. Humans would, as fast as I am waving my hand, turn into angelic beings. All violence, all evil, wars, bad sudden death in all forms, drugs, gene manipulations, and environmental destruction – in short, everything that makes money – would disappear in a jiffy. Not even I, who was once crucified because of humans’ lack of faith, believe in something like that. Oh no, to change the world takes longer than that. It will certainly be changed. The plan is that it shall be transformed, together with its inhabitants, but that change will not be without pain. And please tell me, Jan, what would the humans learn from such a swift transformation? Earth is their school, and no school allows its pupils to graduate without an examination. It must not be that easy, because then the deepest meaning of it all would be lost.”

“Ascension includes not only the Earth,” I objected. “Before that the humans, according to modern ‘prophets,’ will be taken up in crafts to enormous mother ships, where you and others reside. Up there, they will choose their further destinies or be sent off to some planet which receives and raises the left-overs.” Sananda laughed loudly. “Now you are exaggerating!” he exclaimed. “It is not decided beforehand where people, including rascals, will be going. It is a completely individual question. I know all about these uptakings, which are called resurrections by some. From our side, it is a voluntary project. In addition, a certain amount of training is required, or severe shock may result. I certainly do not deny that uptakings already have happened and will happen in the future. Also, group uptakings may occur. But it occurs neither by suicide, as some seem to believe, nor by mass landings of UFOs that sweep huge crowds of people along with them. It occurs through silence, prayer, and certain exercises that mitigate the transition. “Some humans have already decided they will be taken up, and they might have wanted it from an early age. We help them, because they are already now standing with one foot on the other side of the border. But they, too, will not come here until they have fulfilled their karma. Many of our sisters and brothers have been sent to Earth to carry out a mission or to finish their own development and, most of all, learn to raise their consciousness in those 

situations where it is needed. They know it is their last incarnation on Earth, and when they come back here, they are reunited with their work-groups or Soul Groups.”

“Lots of books are written about how these uptakings will occur, including the dates for them,” I objected again. “As far as I know, no date has been correct yet.”

“Let the Universe keep its secrets! Let the present be the leading power of events. Take care of yourself, my friend, and don’t ponder any more over the future. Let the humans plan and the Creator reign, or perhaps rather direct.” A swift embrace and the great Master had disappeared. I felt a little dazed, sitting in the big, shimmering Angel Pyramid where I had a great deal of my lessons. It was like a vast puzzle, but some of the pieces were beginning to fit into place, even though many of them were still missing. Would they ever fall into place?


 






17. Alien Contact.

The flying crafts had many different names. They were called vimanas, merkabahs, and UFOs. It was on a trip with one of those that I experienced the adventure which Sananda had prepared me for. I have been in all Worlds, I have visited other planets, I have off and on visited my beloved Mother Earth, and I have fully learned to adapt myself to the life I live here and now. I cannot, under any circumstances, call it “death,” because that word means a cold and stiff nothing, which is placed into the earth or burned in the flames of fire. The inexorable death that man constantly fears doesn’t exist. What’s the meaning of the peel you put aside when you eat the fruit? What do your ragged, old clothes mean that are ready for the bin? You don’t want to use them anymore, and you don’t miss them. You are, in fact, happy to get rid of them, so you can wear the new, lighter garments. Those in your surroundings who were used to seeing you in your old clothes cannot get over the fact that you have thrown them away. It is, in fact, a kind of stinginess from their side. I was thinking along those lines already during my earthly life when I wrote about the old soldier who was so happy when he discovered his recently acquired freedom on the church tower with the rooster. I didn’t long for death in those days, but I pondered about what it could mean. I didn’t fear death – as usual, I was curious. I never had an academic education in that life, but there is something called “education of the heart.” It was deeply rooted in me, because it contains truth, justice, and wisdom. Perhaps that is why I, already from the beginning, didn’t feel the least foreign in the Angelic Realm. Nor in Shamballa. When my home was on Mother Earth, I was considered rather woolly, especially towards the end, when I openly told people about my belief in an afterlife. I claimed that my earthly life was on loan and that my real home was “in higher quarters.” Words like this always annoy the learned ones, those who know everything and believe in nothing. Shala, Zar, and I were sent on a mission. We didn’t know our destination yet when we sat in the craft that took us to Earth. A fourth person had joined us, a man that I didn’t know. He belonged to the “aliens.” He had a big head and big eyes, rudimentary features, a thin body of medium height, and only four fingers on each hand. He was a very kind and pleasant person, and I liked him at once. He was called Moos. He was the main character in this mission. His body was materialized, because he was going to be a link between us and the Earth. With his personality and his appearance, he could become a piece of evidence for the earthlings that extraterrestrials are not dangerous and that they would like to cooperate with humans. Moos was very knowledgeable. He had resources at his disposal which could rescue Earth from being destroyed by its own people. He was prepared to take up the fight against those gentlemen who govern the Earth – not a bad fight, but the challenge from a love-warrior. Just like us, he was invulnerable, but if he was treated badly, we had to return. We would stand invisible at his side. This was a mission concerning top-level politics. Our craft would land in a little place in Canada near a small town where top-level meetings take place. For me this was new and thrilling, especially as I had not followed current events on Earth since my transition so many years ago. Politics was never my thing, but I could still bring forward a rightful anger against the benefits and self-sufficiency of those in power from Jan, the farm boy. When our craft landed, I stepped down on a foreign part of the Earth with the mission to prevent those catastrophes that possibly waited. Frightened people approached the craft. Moos stood in front of it and put his hands up in a warning gesture. People stopped at once. There were three grown-ups and three children. They obviously knew that the radiation from a UFO can be harmful. Shala, Zar, and I walked up and looked closer at the frightened humans. A small girl with brown curls reminded me of someone I treasured on Earth, and I sat on my heels next to her and caressed her hair. “Don’t be afraid, little one,” I whispered in her ear. “We mean you no harm.” The girl neither saw nor heard me. Sometimes it is convenient to be invisible, sometimes it is tough. Our plan was that Moos would try to make contact with those humans, even if they seemed suspicious. He spoke excellent English, and with a friendly smile and outstretched hand he went up to one of the men. There were two men and one woman. He explained that there was a minor technical problem with the craft, which was being repaired. The older of the men remained standing as Moos came close to him, but he did not shake hands. One of the children, a little boy of about eight, darted forward and caught hold of Moos. The alien smiled and lifted the boy up. Then 

the boy’s father came up and asked if Moos would like to visit their home for a while and talk about where he came from and what had happened to the craft. They lived nearby. Meanwhile, I noticed that the older man stepped aside and used a small black device that he put to his ear. He talked, upset, into thin air. Later I found out that nowadays there are wireless phones on Earth. Moos sat on the ground and talked in a friendly way with the boy and the brown-haired girl. The mother clutched the smallest child tightly in her arms. For a while, nothing happened. Both men talked to Moos, but suddenly sirens whined, and four police cars arrived at top speed. Six policemen emerged from the first one and harshly grasped Moos. He turned around and winked at me before two policemen succeeded in pulling a sack over his head. The others hurried to the place where the craft had been a moment ago. It had disappeared. Shala started to laugh uncontrollably. “Did you see their faces?” she asked me. But I was worried about my recently acquired friend Moos, so I looked with resignation at the vanishing police car. The policemen in the other cars talked for a while with the man who had sent for them, and after that both the grown-ups and the children went with the police. We remained standing outside our craft, which had become invisible. Hello, readers, this is neither a science fiction story nor an episode of Superman! Crafts can become invisible both in the air and on the ground. It’s easier for them to dematerialize than for us. 






A Political World Conference Gets a Cosmic Visit

“Now it’s our turn to move,” Zar commanded. We took each other’s hands and closed our eyes. Zar muttered something that took us to a large building in the suburb of the small Canadian town. Invisible, we sat down on a sofa in a room that looked like a waiting room. It was not many minutes before Moos joined us. Meanwhile, a guard had placed himself in front of a big double door in the room. Moos pulled up the collar of his coat and pulled down his hat over his forehead. He walked up to the guard and asked him to open the door. The guard replied that there was a conference going on inside. Then he probably discovered that Moos looked strange and started to grope for his weapon. But he didn’t manage to get hold of it before Moos put him in a deep sleep. After that, our space man stepped into the conference room, closely followed by the three of us. The humans around the long table became silent, and all eyes turned to Moos, who had taken off his hat and coat and was standing there in his glossy space suit. “I greet you!” Moos said, in his impeccable English. “I have come here to help you, politicians from many countries, to save the Earth.” A man stood up and cried out angrily, “Is this some kind of masquerade? Are you the only bandit, or are there more like you? Where is the guard? Get down, everybody, he might have a firearm!” All the others, about twenty-five people, lay flat on the floor. How ridiculous it looked! I had a hard time keeping from laughing. Fully-grown adults that were scared of a small, friendly alien. “I assure you that I come from outer space,” Moos shouted, holding up his four fingered hands. “I have come here to help you. I am requesting to participate in this meeting.”

“It’s a conspiracy!” somebody cried. “Call the police!” someone else cried. While the police thought they had Moos in safe keeping, he had calmly gotten out of jail. He was standing in the flesh in the conference room, and yet no one wanted to believe what he said. “I want to help you to understand how bad things are with your Earth,” he went on. “You call yourselves environmentalists, but you are not doing a thing for the environment. Everything that is written is just empty words. Have there been any examinations of the oceans after the nuclear tests? Have you taken samples of the air pollution around the world? Do you regularly check the ozone layer and initiate active changes of the emissions causing it? Can you explain the weather alterations? Have you stopped selling weapons to each other? Have you taken care of the world’s drug-trafficking problems, or do you consider them a necessary means of extermination? Do you want to eradicate the rising youth? Do you want to starve out parts of the population in developing countries?” In my eagerness to help Moos, I materialized. I heard people talking Swedish from one quarter of the room, and I thought that perhaps I could explain to my compatriots why we were there. I forgot who I was and swiftly changed into the earthly Janne. “Look, there’s another one!” somebody screamed. “Where did he come from?”

“He forgot to take off his nightshirt!” some witty fellow cried out in the background. I looked down at myself. I had forgotten to materialize a shirt and a pair of trousers, so there I was in my blue caftan. What was worse: Under it my bare legs and feet were seen, and my toes were splaying out like happy fools on the soft carpet. “Does anybody know if there’s a carnival in town?” an elderly man asked. “And how did these odd fellows, to say the least, get in?”

“How do you know it’s not the FBI?” cried an anxious female voice. Small black phones were swiftly clamped to many ears, but then Moos raised his hand up in the air. The main lights of the conference room went out, as well as all other lighting. He had accomplished a short circuiting of the entire building. Inside, I cheered him on. Shala whispered to me to immediately dematerialize, since my voice was not to be heard. Behind me, I heard Zar’s quiet chuckle. “We are working more effectively when we are invisible,” he assured me, out of the dark. Some people on the bright side had realized that there were candelabras above the great open fireplace, and they were trying to light them – but in vain. Moos put an end to all kinds of lighting, both inside and outside. Those police cars which were on their way to capture their escaped prisoner just stopped. They got no further. Those who tried to get into 

the building were hindered by an invisible wall. Agitated voices were heard. Moos called for silence and cried out his message loudly and clearly. “I am not dressed up!” he assured. “I am Moos, a visitor from another planet in this galaxy. In awe, we see that the Earth destroys not only itself, but the destruction reaches far out into space and strikes at innocent life there also. Invisible workers from an extraterrestrial space fleet are working day and night, trying to limit the contamination and poisoning. I was sent here to inform you of this and ask that Earth answer our appeal. There are still possibilities for you to survive and repair at least some of the damages. We want cooperation. We want to eliminate all the evil happening on your Earth, all the destruction and gene-manipulation that you believe gives you a lead in the Universe. Instead, you are at a low stage in comparison with most other inhabited planets. “When the light returns, none of us strangers will remain here. You, who are sitting at this table, have power and influence in your countries. You are making plans in this building for the economic and strategic worldsituation. This building is strictly guarded, but you can see that I only need to raise my hand in order to change that. Instead, devote yourself to the cultural heritage you all should preserve. Give your old cultures the chance to recreate the future in harmony with the new. If you want to cooperate with us, our knowledge and our practical help is at your disposal – but not by compulsion or imprisonment, as is now happening to certain foreign visitors. Let your Love meet ours! Consider carefully that Earth has never done you any harm. It is you who have hurt her. She has shared her abundance with you. You have taken advantage of it to obtain power in your respective countries. “I am sorry that I now have to talk to you in the dark, but the light did not benefit my message. When you have evaluated the benefits you will have from cooperation, you only need to collectively zoom in on my name, Moos.” As the electricity shortly after returned to the area, we were in our space ship. When the police got into the conference building, essentially nothing else had happened except that the light had gone out and the politicians were irritated. Later on, we heard that the conference members decided not to take any notice of the alien interlude and did not let the media know about it. I think they regarded us as jokers in fancy dress. The truth and the seriousness in Moos’ words may have entered the consciousness of some of the participants, but the result was uncertain. It is a serious state of affairs when people are unable to believe what they themselves have seen and heard. The politicians did not dare to believe. They did not dare to believe in a visit from another planet, that there could be help for Earth beyond the physical, that they can call on Moos for help. They only dare to live in their physical reality. If just one of them could show an ounce of compassion or realize the dangers that lurk around the corner, or even better, talk about them, then perhaps a new thinking could begin. But fear is allied with power, which is allied with big money, and there it comes to a sudden stop. There is no room for extraterrestrial train of thoughts. They don’t understand that they won’t get any help until they ask for it. We had helped Moos with the power outage and with the invisible wall outside the conference building. That was the first time I had taken part in such a powerful common thought process, and it felt good to know how strong we were together, without our physical bodies. However, this was not the last time we participated in something like this. What you, dear readers, call the future is full of attempts to let the humans gain new and positive insights. 







18. About the Aura and the Chakras

On one occasion when I visited Djwal Khul in Tibet together with Zar, I received a very thorough lecture about the aura and our chakras. I’m sure that many of my readers have studied these things, but the teaching of the little Tibetan may still differ from the commonly known theories. I intersperse my own adventures of my cosmic life with the ancient knowledge from the wisdom teachers so that this wisdom will not be too difficult to understand. In the same way, I intersperse old knowledge with new. Now I will give a brief account of the aura and the chakras for those who don’t know about them. The aura-colors, counted from the inside outwards – upwards, are red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. There are, of course, countless nuances of every color. Red represents the physical, orange the psychic, and yellow the intellect. Those three are very strongly connected. The green color stands for Nature, for talents and paths. The two blues and the violet show a rising curve of spirituality. These seven basic colors are more or less developed in every human being. They can be wholly or partially hidden by diseases and problems, but they are there and they vary, depending upon the different states, abilities, and experiences of the human being. During pregnancy, a fan-shaped field is interspersed in the aura of the mother. This signifies the growing embryo, and it leaves the mother at the birth. The chakras are power centers in the body, consisting of energy formations. The word “chakra” itself is Sanskrit and means wheel. Thus we see these accumulations of energy in the form of wheels that rotate and radiate different colors, which are directly related to the aura. There are seven known chakras: The Root chakra, which is designated by red color, is to be found at the bottom of the spine. It guides the physical and the creative parts of man. The Spleen chakra is designated by orange. It is located in the spleen and guides the digestion and assimilation processes. The Solar plexus is yellow and guides the adrenal glands, the pancreas, and the liver. The color of the Heart chakra is green. It guides the blood circulation and the heart. The Throat or Neck chakra has blue color. It is placed back in the neck and guides the breathing, throat diseases, and the thyroid gland. The Front chakra, or the Third eye, is indigo-colored. It guides the pineal gland and controls in many ways the psychic mind. The Crown chakra is violet. It is strongly connected to the cosmic world. You probably know all this already. If not, it is worth closer examination. The Tibetan has his own version about the cooperation between the aura and the chakras. When I was sitting with Djwal Khul and Zar in the beautiful little house in Tibet and listened to his words of wisdom, which were floating forward at the same even flow as the water in the valley lake outside, I was struck by the simplicity of his teaching. His straight answers were not wrapped in too many words or adornments. They went straight for the psychic part. Humans make unnecessary difficulties. If a wise man speaks, there is another one who wants to be wiser and add his own ideas to the first wisdom, then comes the next one, and the result is a building so high that the foundations cannot support it, and everything collapses. Much wisdom has walked down that road. “You know about the aura,” the Tibetan said, “and you know about your chakras. Many have pondered over how to bind these two parts of knowledge to the right system. Then I tell you that there is no such system. All the chakras have direct contact with the aura, and the radiation between them is automatic, when a human being is healthy. On the other hand, if she has the slightest disturbance in her aura or in a chakra, it’s a different situation. I will explain how and why. “A chakra is a wheel that rotates. But not only that, every chakra has its colors, connected in a pattern with various fields, which resemble the circles on the Cosmic Map. The root chakra has the least number of fields, and the crown chakra has the most. The fields rotate and display a variety of colors. The colors flow into each other, but 

still you can see that the lowest chakras have darker nuances than the highest ones. “If we start from the colors I gave you initially – which have been around since the beginning, even though so many people try to change them – the colors form different patterns in the wheels. Every color corresponds to the same color in the aura. When considering disease, you first of all have to bear in mind that the radiation between chakra and aura must be made in corresponding colors. A chakra is not just a “color ball,” but contains very strong currents of energy. It is simply charged with energy. Accordingly, when a color from the chakra meets a color in the aura, a certain amount of quantum energy is transferred. This charged energy is compressed. Imagine that two colors that do not fit together are brought together by mistake. This will lead to a poor, perhaps catastrophic, result. For that reason, it is important to know if the disease is entirely physical or if it’s affected by the psychological or mental. “When you are in good health, the chakras rotate rapidly, but if you are sick, they rotate more slowly or are completely stopped. When energy radiation is going to take place, one must stop the chakra in question. It must not stand still longer than the time it takes (with much concentration of thought) to loosen an energy ray of the desired color and apply it at the right place in the aura. By having this stored energy in our chakras, whether we are sick or in good health, there are always possibilities for cure. The energy store is not sick. One can see the chakras as the engines of the body that increase or decrease the vibratory rate in the body. “Then how do you cure with energy rays of the right color? First of all, you need to know which diseases are cured with which colors (see the Appendix). After that, you locate the chakra that is closest to the diseased place. Thereafter, you investigate if this chakra is in good balance, i.e., is rotating as it should. It’s not possible to use if it stands still. The cure is achieved by a co-operation between the chakra, the aura, and the thoughts, in a way where you start with the chakra. While it is rotating, you pull out a spiral from it. The tip of the spiral must find the shortest way to the part of the aura that is to be treated. The thought has to take part throughout the process, leading and following what is happening. When the tip of the spiral has reached its target in the aura and the thought is tuned in on curing the disease in question, the patient feels heat in that specified place. If there is no feeling of intense heat, the spiral has not reached its target. Then you have to do it again, making sure that the chakra is moving. (If it is a mental disorder, the heat always appears around your whole head, most often on your crown.) It is not difficult, but intense concentration is required. “The energy store always exists in all human beings, no matter how uninterested they are in alternative healing. It is tightly packed inside the chakra wheel, and therefore you must be careful when you pull out the spiral. The spiral contains energy that is released in the form of radiation. The whole spiral is applied to the aura, to be absorbed there when the radiation is complete. Thus you must ‘extract’ a spiral every time you radiate somebody. Please note that the radiation is as strong as radioactive radiation, but it is totally harmless, because it becomes a pure collection of power in the chakra, and out of this power or energy an equally pure radiation is released.”

“Imagine,” I exclaimed with admiration, “that we all have small storage centrals of pure power in our chakras, without understanding how to use them! If only I had known anything about this in my life as Janne, I would have started an avalanche.”

“The time was not right for it then,” the Tibetan answered quietly. “It is now that an avalanche is needed. You will get the best result from a chakra treatment when the work is carried out in love, and out of love, without involvement of money. But unfortunately, the day when man realizes that is still a long way off. Profit is typical these days, and it’s only getting worse. When will humans learn to live by the laws of Love?”

“Not as long as a bunch of professional politicians are governing them,” I answered, annoyed. “I believe most politicians choose that profession in order to make money. I got that feeling in Canada.”

“But they were really fond of your naked feet!” Zar teased me. “Soon it is probably time for us to appear in a more tangible way on the arena. There’s no point in lamenting over politicians, priests, silly laws, and regulations. We must act. We send warnings through books like this one and others, but if the warnings are not heeded, the Galactic Council must take measures.”

“We were talking about the chakras and the aura,” I cautiously reminded him. “Have I been told what I need to know?”

“Yes, I think so,” the Tibetan replied. “What has been forgotten in this context is the connection of the holy trinity. I have my own name on it, namely the Triple Alliance: the aura, the chakras, and the thinking, in symbiosis. There are many good chakra exercises, but the most important thing is to make sure that the chakras are spinning. 

Anybody with sensitive fingertips can do that. For the four lower chakras, you use your whole hand. The three upper ones are most easily felt with your index or middle finger. A vibrating motion in the fingertip is felt, sometimes in the whole hand, if the chakra works right.”

“Can it ever spin backwards?” I asked interestedly. The Tibetan smiled. “Yours probably is right now,” he joked. “Yes, my boy, certainly it can spin backwards. That’s not good at all, and must be taken care of. You do that with the help of concentrated visualization of the ‘right spin’ and clockwise movements of your hand or fingers on the chakra in question. A human being can easily live with chakras that spin backwards, but it will not be a good life.”

“I have been reading about the awakening of different chakras,” I remarked. “In many earthly books it is reported that all of our chakras are not awake yet. That means that they do not spin, doesn’t it?”

“Certainly,” Djwal Khul answered. “I previously talked about awakened chakras that are used together with the aura and the thought: the Triple Alliance. Sleeping chakras are also very common among so-called everyday people, those who have no spiritual insights at all.”

“Do the chakras awaken by themselves, if you are spiritually interested?” I asked. “In a way,” the Tibetan answered. “The chakras are energy suppliers and power distributors in the body, but sometimes they need a reminder in order to become aware of their task.”

“We still have our chakras, Jan,” Zar commented. “In our ethereal bodies, they are power sources that are always in contact with the aura.”

“How?”

“They signal to each other!” Zar cried out. “They cooperate. There is no risk of diseases among us, because purity of thought is a requirement in the Ethereal World.”

“That would probably not be feasible on Earth,” I muttered. “Thank you for an interesting lesson!” 








19. About Prayer and Meditation.

Prayer is a chapter in itself. I was never very interested in either prayer or meditation. Of course, I have been able to pray at difficult moments, deep inside the dark chambers. When I first came here, this was a problem for me. I was not used to meditating, but rather to sitting quietly, pondering. I was very good at that, at least my wife always said so. Meditation is something that has grown up in recent years, something that started to flower and spread seeds. Its origin is in the Far East, but it was also common among The People of the Sun and the Stars. That’s where it started. Transcendental meditation spread out during my last years on Earth, but I was never particularly interested in navel-gazing. Well, to be sure, I know it’s more than that, and that it involves a word called “mantra,” which you should think about. It doesn’t appeal to me that much. If I am going to meditate, I want to think about something beautiful, preferably out in Nature. I cannot paint other than with words, but I have always admired good art. I can sit for a long time enjoying a beautiful work of art – isn’t that meditation? When I came here, meditation was the first thing I got to learn in the Angels’ School. What an ordeal! But our teachers here are both humorous and patient, and that’s what I needed. I learned to meditate by realizing that it is much easier than you think. If your thoughts are running around like headless chickens, you are forgiven. Bit by bit, you learn to close them off and go into a kind of vacuum, a blue-white, shimmering fog, from where it is then easier to come to the conclusion what to meditate on. It didn’t involve the navel at all. We meditated on love, friendship, joy, beauty, fellowship, patience, and so on. We were allowed to make up whatever stories we liked about these positive qualities, and afterwards we were welcome to ask questions. It was really fun. The next step was to meditate on Nature. We were free to choose what parts of Nature to ponder over: flowers, trees, sun, wind, or water – whatever we could come up with. After that we got to make meditation journeys, and that is the funniest thing of all. I still make them as often as I can. Nowadays I only need to sit down in peace and quiet and decide to travel – and I travel! The journey takes me to many different places and situations, always as thrilling and instructive. With the help of meditation, you can also help others. We often do that in a group. The “broad” Love slowly but steadily made its entry in my thinking and in my emotions, and there it has remained as an intense part of my ethereal self. And meditation is always included in this broad Love, with gratitude to all that is created and its Creator. Now we come to prayer. Prayer can be incorporated in meditation, but meditation can also consist of prayer. The power of prayer is tremendously strong. It is, of course, associated with our thinking, but few people think of that whether we say our prayer out loud or whisper it in our hearts, it shoots away like an arrow directly to the target. As a matter of fact, it is a combined light- and sound-energy, provided with varying vibratory power. When it reaches its target, its content is activated in different ways or in various forms. The prayer is answered. But sometimes the answer is not what the praying one wished for, or else it may not be perceived as an answer. How is that? We will come back to the free will of man. The will is included in the prayer, and it has varying power. You cannot fire a shot without having a rifle. The will is the rifle. A bullet can ricochet. So can your prayer, if the wrong emotion is behind it. Hatred, envy, selfishness, stinginess, jealousy, love of gain, etc., cause the ricochet. A prayer must be expedited with a good intention or as a need of help. When the prayer is fulfilled, you must give thanks for the help. If you don’t, but continue in an egocentric way, the same problems will return. My readers probably know all about this – but do you ever think about it? 







The Prayer of Mother Marta

In this context, I want to tell you a story that is actually a memory from my childhood as Jan. Old Mother Marta had just become a widow. She was not that terribly old, only sixty-nine. But she was wornout with hard work and now she lived alone in her little red cottage among whispering birch-trees and the fragrance from groves of lilies-of-the-valley. It was early summer, and everything was awakening from its late winter sleep, starting to bud and smile at the sun. The dew watered the grass, which, pale green and drowsy, looked up from the soil and formed spots of delight to the eye. Up the hill, near the river, where the oaks formed a leafy pillared hall, the yellow anemones had a shining race with the sun. Mother Marta had neither water nor electricity in her cottage. She read her Bible by the pale light of a paraffin lamp. She now carried firewood and water alone. When she went to the little outside toilet, one of the holes gaped empty and black. The lid was mostly on, and sometimes the old woman sat there in her thoughts, discreetly patting the other lid. Her regret at the loss of her husband Anders was so deeply felt, that she only wished she would soon die. Her wish became a prayer. Her widow-pension was not much at that time, but it was enough for her to buy food for herself, the cat, and the other animals. Anders had left the woodshed full of wood, and her kind neighbor Per helped her chop it when rheumatism ached in her legs. Marta just wanted to die. Her son had left for America, and certainly she had a letter or two from him, but they were difficult to read. She had to ask the clergyman for help. She did not like doing so, because the clergyman would always tell her how nice it would be for her to move into the old people’s home. But she did not want to go there at all, she wanted to die at home in her cottage, like her husband Anders had done. She preferred not to be far from home, for just imagine if Death came and she was not there! Marta had long conversations with Death. She had hoped that Anders would pay her a visit; she was not afraid of ghosts or phantoms. To be sure, she seemed to feel his nearness sometimes, but she couldn’t see him. Perhaps he was waiting to become visible until he came to fetch her. Of course, she had to take care of the cat and the hens and the pig and the old mare, and moreover, she had a cow that was old now, who gave her the loveliest of milk. There was plenty of grazing on the land belonging to the cottage. Her neighbor, Per, who was also old and lonely, helped her with the animals. But her daughter, who lived in Skåne (in the south of Sweden) and was married to a bank manager, seldom got in touch with her. She was probably ashamed of her old parents. She sometimes wrote and complained about the old cottage that her husband had inherited. ‘How can you complain about an old cottage?’ Mother Marta thought. Her cottage was her dearest property, now that Anders was buried under the soil. It was a bit of a walk to the cemetery, but she went there every Sunday after the sermon. She did not care for the after-church coffee; the villagers were only curious about how she could manage without Anders. They wanted to make her grief a village matter, which would end in the old people’s home. But Marta was not alone. Old Per often came to visit her to have a cup of coffee, and she also had all the animals. Mother Marta prayed and prayed to die. “As soon as possible,” she told Our Lord. “Then Per can take care of the cottage until my children come and ask for their inheritance. I have written a will. You see, Lord, I don’t wish my lass ill, but she already has everything she needs. My son can have the cottage, if he likes. Everything else will go to Per. I am totally finished with this life, you see. I want to go up to Heaven, to my Anders, and I want to go instantly!” Her prayer rose again and again to the beams in the roof of the old cottage. It rose straight through timber and turf, and right out into the cool dusk of the spring evening. Veils of fog enclosed the meadows in a sweet dampness, and the old cow was mooing out there in the shed. She wanted to be milked. But the prayer danced up into the skies that hung dark and heavy right over the treetops, and it carried a melody like church-bells far away, ringing clearly through the thin air. This time the prayer reached its destination. It was received by a group of merry angels, who carried it further on towards its target. But the angels had a great deal to do along the way. They were to dance on the Heavenly meadow and play lutes and stringed instruments in the Heavenly hall. They were to sprinkle happy springthoughts on the ground where young couples walked. They had to look after the birds, make sure that they flew to 

the right places, and care for all the new animals that were born in the woods. They flew up and down between Heaven and Earth, and all the time they carried Mother Marta’s prayer on their wings. In the end, it only just managed to cling on! Mother Marta went to the cowshed and milked her cow. The cat got a spot of the milk, and then she cooked a pot full of rice pudding. Anders had loved rice pudding, and she thought that now, as she soon was going to leave this life on Earth, she might as well eat something really nice, so that she would leave with her stomach full. Anders was probably sitting with the angels right now, eating the whitest of all rice puddings. What if he was having such a nice time that he had forgotten his old woman? But Death didn’t come. She complained to Per, when he came by to visit her. Just imagine, her prayer hadn’t helped! Was she so old that the people high up in the heights of Heaven didn’t care about her? Would Per like to taste her last rice-pudding? Per smiled, patted her cheek, and called her a silly old lady. You cannot pray to die, can you? Our Lord takes what He wants when He wants, not when we want. She must have patience, and in the meantime her little farm must be taken care of. Marta realized he was right. With a sigh, she watched how the abundant rest of the delicate pudding disappeared in Per’s contented mouth. The beautiful spring evening was followed by beautiful early summer and beautiful high summer evenings. It was harvest time, and Per cut the grass of the meadow outside Marta’s cottage, in order to have winter food for the animals. Marta churned butter and made cheese and washed her linen in the river, enjoying the clear sun of God. Perhaps her prayer for death was weakening slightly as time went on. Per had a bull, and the bull had visited her cow, and even though she never would have thought the cow could still calve, she was now expecting an addition in the cowshed. The cat had also been out on an illicit errand. One day Mother Marta’s kitchen was teeming with kittens. “Do you want me to kill them?” Per wondered, a bit cautious. “Oh no,” answered the old lady. “If I am not allowed to die, they won’t have that pleasure either. Here is room for one or two and I give the others away.” Meanwhile, something was happening on the heavenly front. The little angels, who carried Mother Marta’s prayer on their wings, had an errand up to the Highest Instance. There they were scolded for forgetting to deliver the prayer, but the scolding was accompanied by a warm smile. It had not been time for Mother Marta, and it was still not time. Two years had passed since Anders’ death. The longing for death by Mother Marta had cooled, perhaps because she was needed by so many. She had her hands full every day, because old Per had cut his leg with the axe in her woodshed. It was fortunate that he didn’t die, the old lady thought, and was frightened at her thoughts. Our Lord saved Per for me, she continued to think, because without him I would be at my wits’ end. I probably haven’t got time to die right now. Now she instead asked to be forgiven, for being a bit delayed for her meeting with Anders, up there in the blessed climes. She really wanted to get there and she longed for her husband, but now she was needed both at home and in Per’s cottage. She had worked all her life, so it went like clockwork helping her crippled neighbor. So her prayer turned around in her thoughts and became a polite request, if perhaps she could live a little longer to do her share. Per recovered. Then he wanted to marry Marta. He thought they would be a matching couple. The old lady was terrified. That was something Anders would never forgive! No, it must stay the way it was, even if the villagers gossiped and the clergyman called both of them sinners. It was ten years before Marta died. Meanwhile, her hands were full of work in both cottages and cowsheds. If anybody mentioned the word “old people’s home,” she became really abusive. She had almost forgotten her death-thoughts and her urgent prayers. Nowadays, she was really fond of life. She had not transferred her love to Per, even if they got on so well together – but she had transferred her love to life! It was a cloudy day in September, when the leaves were laying red and golden on the ground outside the cottage. It had been a wearisome day, all the more so as Mother Marta felt uneasy, and aching everywhere. When Per returned home to his cottage with his stomach full of creamed parsley and perch that he had caught, she felt so tired that she lay down on her bed before starting the washing up. While she was lying there with her eyes closed, she got the idea to look up – and there was Anders! He smiled and reached out his hands to her, and there was a 

strange light surrounding him. ‘I have forgotten to wish for death,’ she thought, while the light around her husband faded and united with the light of dusk in the cottage. “I’m so tired,” she told Anders out loud, because she felt him close to her. “I’m so tired that I most of all want to die.” The small angels that were flying around her gathered speed in their wings. There was the wish from the old lady again, and this time it would be properly expressed. In a twinkling of an eye, they were up by Our Lord. Now he was contentedly nodding, and at once fulfilled the Marta-prayer which they had brought. So it came about that the prayer of Mother Marta was at last fulfilled when she fell asleep for good on that autumn day in the light of dusk. I, Jan, knew her. She made the best cheese in the world. But this story was about the prayer. It is a story about how a prayer can follow you for many years and you think that Our Lord has not heard it. One day you pray it from the depths of your heart, and then it is fulfilled, if the time is right. Everything happens when it is meant to happen, but not always when we want it to happen! 







The Creative Power of Thoughts

We are our thoughts! When it comes to meditation, you have to free yourself from thoughts. When it comes to prayer, you must keep track of the thoughts, control them, feel that they are pure and strong, and give them effusion and power. When I asked Zar how you could keep your thoughts straight, he answered: “You have to enter the garden of thoughts. There you will learn how to distinguish between positive and negative thoughts. The important thing is not to give bad thoughts any power. If you become absorbed in your thoughts, you give them power, whichever kind they are. There you have the danger with the mass-media. They influence thoughts which have not been called into question. Many people are of the opinion that positive thinking is a fashion cliché. Thoughts are creative. We are not aware that we can create negative thought forms which last and embed themselves in our sub-conscious, only to suddenly pop up like a genie in a bottle when we least need them. This can become destructive.” “How can you make people understand that?” I wondered. “The hard way, I’m sorry to say,” Shala answered. “Bad experiences that are piled up on top of each other, have a reason. The reason consists of negative thoughts that have become released in actions. One can practice positive thinking. That is not to say that you must be only positive. Do you understand?” I shook my head. I was thinking of kind old Mother Marta and her prayers. If you are feeling negative, you can always ask for help. If humans knew how many invisible angels there are around them in the air, in the room, in Nature, they would perhaps feel ashamed and guard their thoughts more. It’s all right to ask the angels for help; that’s what they are there for. They always listen, and it is their task to carry the prayer further, if necessary. If you are impatient, you must wait longer for fulfillment. To be sure, there is something called karma, too, the law of cause and effect. Many threads are needed to establish a good weave. “If you can pray, you can meditate,” Zar usually says. “If you cannot do either of those, then just keep on being. In the end, the knowledge will come to you; if not sooner, it will be on the day you are standing on the threshold to the unknown.” 








20. Who Am I? An Existential Question

Who am I? Why am I me? Will I always remain me? What happens after that? These questions have followed me throughout my life as Janne, and all previous lives. They have sung in the air, they have whistled in the trees, they have rippled in the waves on the lake. They have been lying as a dull whispering in my ears, always and everywhere. They have formed the basis of my books, they have danced hand in hand in the thoughts of Jan the poet. Still a great deal is hidden from my eyes, but yet so much has been revealed to me that I feel dazed, proud, and humble, all at once. I fight here too, but it is the fight of the spiritual warrior and it is holy and loving – not glorious. I still have much to learn, and I enjoy every moment of knowledge and insight that I still can pass on in the form of words – words to those who want to listen, words to those who are wondering. In the past, words were just words. Now they are pearls which are part of the jewelry that I present to those who want to read my very words. But who am I? It was my dear friend Kualli who opened the first floodgate. We had been out together on a mission and were sitting chatting in his garden. Then I suddenly and very loudly blurted out, “Who am I?”

“That is your question, but also your answer,” Kualli said seriously. “If you haven’t got the answer yet, you have to examine your heart. Why haven’t you got an answer?”

“Perhaps I’m afraid to get to know who I really am,” I answered thoughtfully. “Maybe all people are afraid of that. But I have been here for so long now, and so many wonderful things have happened, that I ought to know. Why do I still feel such an uncertainty?”

“We, the Native Americans, sometimes ask ourselves the same question,” Kualli answered. “But our answer is obvious: We are the children of the Great Spirit. We are born in Love, and to Love we shall return. We are the seed that has grown to a flower, and we are the flower that will shed its seed. We are the cycle of Nature and the eyes of the Great Spirit.”

“How beautiful that sounds,” I said. “But it doesn’t tell me who I am. I know my origin – but after that? Who am I now?”

“The seed existed in the origin,” Kualli answered patiently, “but it evolved into what you are, here and now. Here is always now. Can you then figure out who you are?”

“I circle between the Angels’ and the Masters’ Realms, and I am spirit. My existence is eternal and everlasting. I am unique. How can I be a unique individual and at the same time have an ethereal body? I have experienced the little spark that was sailing around in outer space and which later was created into a physical being by the Great Spirit. Did I become me then or later? I ask again: Who am I?”

“You are the one you want to be,” Kualli answered in a firm tone. “If you stop wondering who you are, and instead accept that you are right now, you will solve the problem. You can give yourself innumerable epithets, and you can be them all at the same time. Good, happy, warm, cold, kind, wise, etc. You can be one of them at a time or all of them simultaneously. Then you are you. You carry the experiences from all your lives as a little energy backpack on your back. They have all contributed to the growing seed. They are yours, nobody else’s. You are the sum of all that you have been: from the spark in outer space until now. Is that so difficult to understand?”

“Hm,” I mumbled thoughtfully. “Perhaps you are right. Yes, I actually don’t think I can contradict you. But then we arrive at the next major and difficult question: Why am I me? Why am I not you or somebody else? Why have just me had my very experiences of life?”

“Silly question,” Kualli snorted. “Why would you be the sum of somebody else’s experiences? Everyone is himself and is in himself. Every soul created by the Great Spirit had its pattern from the beginning. As the souls multiplied, it was already from the beginning so wisely arranged that the patterns were not copied, but were individually characterized. Humans have very different vibrations, and form a special vibratory pattern. That is a kind of subtle and refined aura and it is constant and follows the human from life to life. We used to call it ‘the ethereal original life pattern.’”

“Then how does it look for babies?” I asked. “They hardly have any aura, and even less so they have an imprinted life pattern, haven’t they?”

“Certainly they have,” Kualli answered, smiling. “The life pattern is embedded into the soul, and even if a baby does not have a full-fledged aura, it is also there. The basic colors are there, even if they are weak, and also various 

talents. The moment when the soul enters the child differs a lot from individual to individual. When it does, the life pattern around the aura is also characterized.”

“Could it possibly be drawn in some way?” I wondered. “You mean the same way as, for instance, the priest Edward Warner illustrated and painted chakras? His paintings became models for the images of chakras that are available today. But it is not that easy to reproduce the life pattern. It vibrates and emanates vibrations. Furthermore, it is part of the Higher Self, and therefore it is included in a kind of protected zone. Why am I me? you wonder. It is because you are alone in having your ethereal original life pattern. It is a stem pattern that declares that you are you. There you have the answer to both your questions.”

“But I have another one,” I swiftly pointed out. “Will I always remain me wherever I end up, even if I come to another planet?”

“That question is part of the other ones, my friend,” Kualli answered. “The original pattern or stem pattern is characterized for eternity. You cannot interrupt eternity. You can be merged with the light of the Great Eternal Spirit – but not even then will you lose your identity. For your stem pattern has a memory. It can be turned off, but not obliterated. If you live in one place and move to another one, you are the same person, are you not? Don’t confuse the external with the internal. In your original pattern is that life-spark that is called the monad by some and the seed by others. Since it can never be lost you are you forever. Are you happy now?”

“Not too bad,” I answered, a bit hesitantly. “I suppose I cannot get a better answer. I almost understand, you see. But what happens after that?” Now Kualli roared with laughter. “You’re quite impossible, boy,” he snorted, “quite impossible! There is no after that. There is only now.”

“One needs to plan ahead,” I protested. “The Great Spirit and the Galactic Council do the planning. What is called ‘nirvana’ in Hindu and Buddhist philosophy is the merging of the soul into the All – into the Now – into Eternity, parallel expressions for the final light-experience that everybody believes is obliteration and total fusion with – yes, with what?”


“The All?” I suggested. “Or maybe God?”

“Or the transition to a parallel world,” Kualli sighed. “There is no total Nothingness for the Native Americans. Our immortal soul is active in many worlds and never ceases evolving.”

“Can one evolve to any length?” I asked. “Can divine creation be destroyed by any process whatsoever?” was his counter-question. “If nirvana is the final existence of nothingness, there is no longer any logical axiom for the existence of a Creator, because if the Great Spirit exists deep inside the core of our Cosmic Map, he surely wouldn’t be involved with the destruction of the souls. Jan, nothing is final. What you call ‘after that’ is an active course of events on a high level. ‘After that’ is Power, Love, Wisdom – three words that belong together.”

“Thank you, Kualli, now I finally understand!” I cried out, and embraced him. And accordingly, my most difficult questions were answered. Today, which is Now and which includes all time and no time, I work and study in the Ethereal World. My Soul Group is always present and we acquire knowledge together that we later on discuss and sometimes question. We have a very good time, but we worry for our beloved Mother Earth. Several of us remain working there, and they don’t send us good news. We want to see the Earth thrive and seethe with life and joy. I have dictated this book for the ordinary human being who is striving to protect Earth as well as he or she can. I want to open your eyes to how things are – or can be – on the other side of what you call death. But I also want to inform you of all the help that is within your reach at times when Earth is in real danger. Those who rule the world only have power and profit in mind, and they do not show consideration for the ordinary human being. She is sacrificed in many situations. And the ordinary human being is scared. She doesn’t dare disturb the guardians of power. War, violence, and disease are spreading across the beautiful surface of the Earth. No one dares suffocate the evil. You, who want to, can reach us through prayer and meditation. We have no right to go against your free will, and as long as you don’t speak out, we have to assume that your free will rules the world. We don’t intend to persuade you to rethink. It must come from yourselves. We have talked a lot about the power of thought in this book: how thought can create both positive and negative. That is no exaggeration, no pure invention. Try, and you will see! But you must be concentrated or nothing will happen. 

I, Jan, have told you what has happened to me right from the beginning, when I was only a small dot of cosmic energy. I am not asking you to believe me. Maybe somebody else has written about life on this side in a way you prefer. Well, you see I am telling you with my words and with my perception. Another writer may tell you something completely different because the spirit, giving him inspiration, has experienced other things and finds other words to describe them with. Kualli mentioned that “my reality is not yours,” it is unique and individual. Then I point out that you certainly should listen inwardly, to your intuition, to that voice which gives you warnings and advice in your inner Self. Remember that life is not only that which you live on Earth now! Life is to an even higher degree that which you meet on the other side of the Golden Portal. If there was no mass-media you would perhaps not believe that there are countries on Earth with exotic fruits, hula-hula-dance, and cultures so different from your own. Not until you traveled there would you, to your surprise, discover different ways of living and other customs than the ones you know about. You love your body and you don’t want to part from it, do you? It is only the withered, worn-out part that falls off when you die. Everything else is still there. You get a new and more comfortable body, you have youth and vigor and good health, and you can think and feel just as well as before – no, in fact, better! You don’t fly around on angel’s wings, tooting on a trumpet when you get here. We work here, but we work with things that we enjoy doing. Furthermore, you get both help and appreciation. You need not miss anything, least of all money. So, why are you afraid of death? Not one single day since I came here have I missed the night. Not for a moment have I wanted to return. You can have the dubious joy of returning to Earth to reincarnate – if you like. But you can also work with your near and dear ones from here, provided you don’t control them, or interfere in their own will. Here you have possibilities at your disposal that you wouldn’t even dream of! You call Earth a school. It is a difficult and problematic school, with good and bad classes. Sometimes the pupils are so many that there is no classroom. Then the pupils must wander around. Then they are stricken with diseases and starvation. It might seem like an unfair school, but the Great Spirit is never unfair. He is Love. Humans forget that when they suffer, but they suffer in order to learn. They themselves have chosen to go down to Earth and suffer. Each of you has, yourself, chosen your time, your surroundings, your talents, and your karma. If you give up, you just have to do it again. But just as well as you have the ability to create a miserable life, you can create a good life. It depends on you yourself, on your thoughts. So hurry up now and guide your thoughts the right way: to joy, love, friendship, success, fellowship … and much more. I won’t say farewell, I say “Au revoir!” and then you may interpret it as you like. Maybe I will write another book or else I will stand here in the gateway, waving my hand when you have passed the border. I don’t worry about the future, since it doesn’t exist. The future is the same as “the Emperor’s new clothes.” The Now is eternal and wonderful. Every second is a flower, a ray of joy and hope. Imagine that every day is a new miracle. See the Sun, even when the sky is gray! It is there behind the clouds, as sure as you are standing there watching. You are standing on an Earth that radiates with the glittering light of the stars. You are looking at stars that are reflections of your own inner light. You are the extended arm of the Great Spirit on Earth. You are the one who rakes your path, cultivates your soil, and looks after your sick mother. Your gift to Earth is you, yourself. You are a part of it, and that’s why you must feel well. You feel well when you want to be happy and joyous – because you want that, don’t you? Otherwise the Sun vanishes into the clouds and the stars get dirty by the ashes from your grief. Then you must know this: Earth doesn’t belong to man. It is man that belongs to Mother Earth. Dear human being, you carry a proud and brilliant secret: You are a direct descendant of The People of the Sun and the Stars! 








The Cosmic Map – Explanation and Guidance The Cosmic Map (at the beginning of this book) rests on the starry sky. The planets of our galaxy can be found there, as well as a few constellations. The outer ring (1) on the map is called “Universal Worlds.” It contains several different Realms, but we have chosen to mention only two of them by their name: the Realms of Idols and the Realms of Darkness. The idols that have existed from time immemorial, and who have been worshiped under many names by humans, have their own Worlds. It means that they still exist in their own surroundings without the influence of humans. We don’t know very much about them, except that their names are to be found in the history books. There, however, it is not stated that these idols weren’t the invention of human brains, but that they really existed and appeared as powers or energies in the human world through the ages. Some of the idols were created by the thoughts of humans. These idols still remain in the Realms of Idols, like shadows in eternity. The others, the strong, the well-known, those who even today have their worshipers, are still alive and working. We would rather not dwell upon the Realms of Darkness. We have enough of their powers on Earth. They are the Realms that Lucifer created in his first wrath against the Great Spirit – something that he bitterly repented of later on. They got beyond his control and reached an extent that he couldn’t handle. But they are still there and their Realms must be mentioned. The next circle (2) contains the No Man’s World. It is the transition Realm for souls where everyone arrives after the crossing, whether they immediately pass by or stay there for a while. As you see, there are tunnels from Earth directly to the No Man’s World. This is where souls wander around until they find their goal. They are never alone. They have help from millions of angels. If they want to proceed, they are immediately carried further on. Those who are confused and refuse to believe they are dead stay there until they, of their own free will, wish to move on. What is called purgatory and hell in the Bible is included in the gigantic domain of the No Man’s World. These states exist in various forms, which are all aimed at allowing the souls to reside in the surroundings they themselves create around themselves, until they awaken to the possibility of further development. For instance, those souls who on Earth were infiltrated with money transactions get to continue forever with such activities until, one day, they discover the emptiness and meaninglessness in their doings. Criminals are allowed to continue with their crimes in a one-sided way until they get tired of it and want to change their situation. Murderers get to experience the darkness until they roar of longing for light. But directly contrary to the menacing prophesies of the Bible, these servants of darkness get constantly recurring confrontations with the angels of light. We really respect those angels who have taken on the difficult task of trying to change these humans who are tightly holding on to their old miserable selves. They all get this chance to return to the light. Nobody is too bad to deserve help and positive changes. The average people – i.e., those who neither believe nor doubt and who during their lifetime seldom give themselves a chance to think about the secret of Life – well, what happens to them? It varies, depending on their unique selves and voluminous egos. But they are usually exposed to situations that make them react and start to consider. Soon there are helpful angels at hand. And forgiveness is always nearer than you think! After that we arrive in the Astral World (3). So much has already been told about that World in this book that further explanations are probably not required. Here are health care, schools, science and research, children and animals, dreams, art and music, along with the Akashic Records, which recount the personal development of every human being during all her lives. The hospitals take care of people who don’t understand that they were released from their illness when they died. They cannot accept this. Some souls need mental help. Next to the Astral World is the Nature World (4). It is inhabited by all kinds of elementals, and it watches over Nature on Earth. Among the Beings of Nature are included what you call “legendary beings,” who lived quite physically and tangibly thousands of years ago and who still remain in fairy tales and narratives of most ancient cultures. There we find, for example, goblins, fairies, giants, trolls, gnomes, the Water Sprite, the wood-nymph, mermaids, and other little people. The one who in present time has seen Santa Claus doesn’t doubt that the fairy tale has a real background. There are also trustworthy people who have seen fairies, giants, and trolls in the Nordic forests. The author has met many of them. Parallel Worlds and Incarnation Worlds (5) are one step further towards the center of the map. It is not possible 

to go into them in more detail, since they are unimaginably numerous and far too complicated to be able to be explained in a simple way. They are parallel to each other and have at the same time many dimensions. They are bound together with each other in a pattern, which is not visible to human eyes. The Ethereal World (6) that follows next is described in detail in this book. It is only divided into two Realms: the Angelic Realm and the Realm of the Masters, which are gigantic conclaves in the enormous musical composition created by the Great Spirit. These Realms are the seats of honor of beauty, love, and wisdom, and the human being who can directly start her journey there from her crossing is fortunate. The World of the Elohim (7) is also beyond our comprehension. We only know that the Elohim work throughout our galaxy and that they are involved in the Galactic Council. The World of the Seraphim (8) is nearest to the Great Spirit. Seraphim are a kind of angel variant. The seraphs are masters of music. Their wonderful tone torrents frame the Highest Godhead in our galaxy. The seraphs move rhythmically in a cosmic dance that doesn’t resemble what we would associate with the word “dance.” They sing, but so do the angels. Song and music are an everyday part of life in the higher spheres. The Light that emanates from the Innermost Godhead, the Great Spirit, is a Love light, and in it is also the Tone, the original tone clang, the one which created for the Creator. The innermost core needs no explanation, it is. The Cosmic Map does not claim to be the only true one – quite the opposite. Every cosmic idea has its own reality, and every human being takes in what she feels is right. The purpose of the Cosmic Map is only to create a simpler image than those shown in the “old books.” The map is the formation that I, Jan, have learned in the Angels’ School and that I am anxious to pass on to a physical level. Man has her free will and has therefore the right to acquire knowledge that appeals to her without being indoctrinated by something she feels is wrong. 





The Original Meaning of Colors

There are seven basic colors that correspond to the colors of the rainbow. White can be used in all areas, because all colors derive from white. Red: stimulates blood circulation and increases body temperature. It helps fatigue, cold shivers, anemia, and colds. Red is stimulating, and therefore a suitable color to use for depression. Orange: helps the digestion and is useful for stimulating the distribution and circulation processes in the body. Good for disturbances in the spleen. It is used for kidney diseases, but also eases bronchitis and other lung diseases. Orange provides physical energy and mental stimulation and is used to alleviate inhibition and repression. Yellow: facilitates the digestive process and has a secreting effect on the liver and intestines and also cleans the whole system. From a mental health point of view, yellow is as stimulating as sunshine. The yellow color eases worn down nerves (stress), skin problems, constipation, and liver problems. It is advantageous to be surrounded by yellow if you are diabetic. Green: has a constructive effect. Sick cells can be neutralized and rebuilt with green. Green is good for normalizing blood pressure and helps the heart to work properly. It is also good for headaches and colds. Blue: slows down infectious diseases and has an antiseptic effect. Psychologically this color gives peace and calms the nerves. Blue eases throat problems and can be used for all childhood illnesses. It is also good for inflammation, spasms, insect bites, itching, headaches, insomnia, and menstrual pain. Indigo: (a combination of deep blue and a touch of red) controls the pineal gland and cleans the blood. It is used for all eye diseases and nose and ear problems. Good for lung diseases and asthma. Indigo is an excellent complement to the other colors. Violet: relaxing and soothing for the nerves. Eases mental health problems, rheumatism, tremors, and bladder diseases. One should also bear in mind that the color of the food you eat has an impact on your health and can affect illnesses. For instance, if you are nervous, it is good to wear a yellow garment and eat yellow food or fruit, etc. 







List of Diseases and Colors

The colors are not a cure in themselves, but they can alleviate discomfort if they are used alongside suitable natural medicines. Ache: all shades of blue Agony, depressive: violet, indigo Allergy: blue, yellow, violet Anemia: red, orange Anorexia: blue, violet, orange Appetite, loss of: red, green Arteriosclerosis: violet, green, red Asthma: indigo, blue Bladder: violet, yellow Bleeding, external: blue, indigo Blood circulation: red, orange Blood pressure, high: green, blue Blood pressure, low: orange, indigo Brain diseases: blue, violet Bronchitis: orange, indigo Bulimia: blue, violet Burns: all shades of blue Cataract: indigo, green Childhood illnesses: all shades of blue Cold: blue, red Colic: blue, indigo Constipation: yellow Coryza: green Cramps: blue, violet Depression: red, orange, violet Diabetes: yellow Diarrhea: blue, indigo Digestion trouble: yellow Ears: indigo, green Epilepsy: yellow, blue, violet Eyes: indigo, blue Fatigue: red, orange Fever: blue Fibromyalgia: blue, yellow, orange Flatulence: blue, violet Flu: indigo Foot problems: blue, violet Gall problems: yellow, blue Genital discomfort: yellow, blue, indigo Giddiness: orange, blue Glaucoma: indigo Goiter: indigo, red Gout: blue, violet, red

Hands: blue, yellow Headache: green, blue Heart problems: green, red Hemorrhoids: blue, green Immune system: blue Insect bites: all shades of blue Intestines: orange, yellow Jaundice: blue, green, orange Kidneys: orange, violet Liver: yellow Lumbago: blue, indigo Lung diseases: orange, red, yellow Lungs: violet Menstrual pains: blue, indigo Mental health: blue, violet Metabolism trouble: yellow, orange Muscle pains: green Nervous system: yellow, blue, violet Nose: indigo Nosebleeds: indigo, green Psoriasis: yellow, orange, indigo Rheumatic diseases: violet, blue, red Sciatica: indigo, violet Sinuses: yellow, green Skin diseases: yellow Stomach pains: blue, yellow Stress: yellow, violet Throat problems: all shades of blue Toothache: all shades of blue Tremors: violet Varicose veins: indigo, blue Wounds: green, yellow 

List of Diseases and Colors


The colors are not a cure in themselves, but they can alleviate discomfort if they are used alongside suitable natural medicines.


Ache: all shades of blue


Agony, depressive: violet, indigo


Allergy: blue, yellow, violet


Anemia: red, orange


Anorexia: blue, violet, orange


Appetite, loss of: red, green


Arteriosclerosis: violet, green, red


Asthma: indigo, blue


Bladder: violet, yellow


Bleeding, external: blue, indigo


Blood circulation: red, orange


Blood pressure, high: green, blue


Blood pressure, low: orange, indigo


Brain diseases: blue, violet


Bronchitis: orange, indigo


Bulimia: blue, violet


Burns: all shades of blue


Cataract: indigo, green


Childhood illnesses: all shades of blue


Cold: blue, red


Colic: blue, indigo


Constipation: yellow


Coryza: green


Cramps: blue, violet


Depression: red, orange, violet


Diabetes: yellow


Diarrhea: blue, indigo


Digestion trouble: yellow


Ears: indigo, green


Epilepsy: yellow, blue, violet


Eyes: indigo, blue


Fatigue: red, orange


Fever: blue


Fibromyalgia: blue, yellow, orange


Flatulence: blue, violet


Flu: indigo


Foot problems: blue, violet


Gall problems: yellow, blue


Genital discomfort: yellow, blue, indigo


Giddiness: orange, blue


Glaucoma: indigo


Goiter: indigo, red


Gout: blue, violet, red


Hands: blue, yellow


Headache: green, blue


Heart problems: green, red


Hemorrhoids: blue, green


Immune system: blue


Insect bites: all shades of blue


Intestines: orange, yellow


Jaundice: blue, green, orange


Kidneys: orange, violet


Liver: yellow


Lumbago: blue, indigo


Lung diseases: orange, red, yellow


Lungs: violet


Menstrual pains: blue, indigo


Mental health: blue, violet


Metabolism trouble: yellow, orange


Muscle pains: green


Nervous system: yellow, blue, violet


Nose: indigo


Nosebleeds: indigo, green


Psoriasis: yellow, orange, indigo


Rheumatic diseases: violet, blue, red


Sciatica: indigo, violet


Sinuses: yellow, green


Skin diseases: yellow


Stomach pains: blue, yellow


Stress: yellow, violet


Throat problems: all shades of blue


Toothache: all shades of blue


Tremors: violet


Varicose veins: indigo, blue


Wounds: green, yellow






Books by Mariana Stjerna

Mariana Stjerna is a highly respected Swedish channel and author. She has been psychic since childhood and has written several spiritual books both for adults and children. On Angels’ Wings is the English publication of her Swedish breakthrough novel På Änglavingar. Other examples of her international releases include Time Journey to the Origin and the Future, The Bible Bluff, The Invisible People, Agartha – The Earth’s Inner World, and Mission Space. In her novels Mariana Stjerna gives important paradigm-breaking information and knowledge presented in an easily accessible and entertaining way. Enjoy! For more info on Mariana Stjerna’s books, visit www.SoulLink.se. Paperback and ebook (Kindle) versions are available on Amazon. Are you afraid of dying? Do you believe that life ends with your last breath? This book is the story about what happened to the famous Swedish author Jan Fridegård after his passing. Through his spokesperson, Mariana Stjerna, he tells vividly with both humor and seriousness his experiences on “the other side.” The reader is invited to join Jan on an amazing journey On Angels’ Wings to different worlds and realms throughout our widespread cosmos. Some highlights: Crossing Over, The Akashic Records, Creation, The Nine Elders of Sirius, No Man’s World, Astral Realms, Midnight Mass, The Angelic Realm, Shamballa, Ashtar Command, Helia and Sananda. The book also contains a Cosmic Map of the different kingdoms, with the Great Spirit in the middle. 

Time Journey to the Origin and the Future is the independent sequel to Mariana Stjerna’s well received novel On Angels’ Wings. While the former book is about what happens to us after our physical death, this book discloses the origin of man and what will happen to Earth and humanity when we have passed through the Grand Portal, become wiser, and achieved a higher consciousness. In his own special way Jan Fridegård continues, through his writing medium Mariana Stjerna, to tell about his missions and adventures on the other side. This time he gets to make a time journey far beyond our own universe. “It’s time for you to not only visit unknown planets or parts of our infinite beingness. You will travel into what one might call the future. … It will be a mystical journey across all boundaries – I mean technically feasible boundaries, seen from a human perspective. Now you have to throw off all your prejudices and put on a shimmering garment, which brings you into something that you in your wildest dreams could never have imagined,” said Master Melchizedek when he informed us about the mission. “This journey is a lesson about what the cosmos really is, – or the original cosmology, if you think that sounds better.” We may, among other things, come along to one of the seven Super Universes, which revolve around a static Central Universe, and make visits to the following cultures of origin: the Mayas, the Maoris, the Incas, the Aztecs, the Sumerians, the Inuits, the Zulus, the Etruscans, the Basques, etc., all of which have been or still are represented on Earth. The book concludes with a visit to the Central Race and the WingMakers, who are living in a paradise … without violence, female maltreatment, lust for power, or greed. The Da Vinci Code tells us that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were a couple and had children together. Is that really correct? Did Jesus die on the cross or did he not? What about the Immaculate Conception? Why was Reincarnation removed at the meeting in Constantinople in the year 553? What function did the Grail have, and is it true that Joseph of Arimathea collected the blood of the crucified Jesus in it? Where is the Grail now, and what mission will it have for humanity in the future? Who was the real Mary Magdalene – a whore or a saint? Was she perhaps the mother of the women’s liberation movement? 

You will find the answers to these questions and much more in this book. Here is a new version of the life of Jesus and what happened in biblical times. The author’s spiritual contact has visited these times and has amazing things to tell. It is time for the Truth to be revealed the way it has been told to those who listen. But it is up to the reader to listen to their inner Truth, which is hidden in their heart. Do you know that invisible beings, Nature spirits, of the most various kinds exist in Nature, and that every one of them has a special task? Unfortunately, most of us don’t know this, and moreover, we only believe in things which we can see with our physical eyes. Fortunately, there are those who are able to see behind the veils we generally have in front of our eyes … Through our ignorance we kill and scare off these elementals with our toxins, our violence, and our insensitivity, which already have had dire consequences. But it has not always been so. Once, a long time ago, humans cooperated with the elementals in harmony and balance, and to this unity we must return. In this book, the writer’s spiritual inspirer, Jan, together with a religious historian and two elves, will make peep-holes into different ages – from about 20 million years ago and forward – in the greatest, most magical, and secretive of all worlds: Nature. The mission is to inform humans about the magic of Nature and also to investigate when, where, and how humans, elves, and Nature spirits cooperated in good spirit. The time journeys are always started from Mother Earth’s beautiful green cave in the innermost of the Earth. At the end of the book are included a number of channeled messages from Pan, the uncrowned ruler and King of Nature. Mariana Stjerna has, ever since her childhood, had a deep feeling for Nature and the elementals, both of which she has experienced and communicated with and still does. The time is now ripe to tell about this magical but so far invisible world, which exists right next to us. This is the fourth book inspired by Jan Fridegård. In Medieval times, people believed the Earth was flat and that the sun rotated around it. The Catholic Church 

considered it heresy to suggest that the Earth was round and orbited the sun. The astronomer Copernicus was aware of this, and did not dare publish his findings until on his death-bed in 1543. The next major “disclosure” is revealed in this book. The Earth is hollow and populated by an advanced race, who is planning to come to the aid of people on the surface very soon. Will this concept be accepted by scientists and the religious community? Is this science-fiction, fantasy, or liberation? We can only advise you to read this book, written as a novel, and examine your own heart. There are those who have already visited Agartha, the world inside the planet, and found society there advanced and flourishing. Admiral Richard E. Byrd, USA (1947) is one of them. He was not given to flights of fancy. Mariana Stjerna made contact with Timothy Brooke, a Canadian, who appeared to her briefly and then “dictated” this book. He was saved by Agarthans from a shipwreck off the coast of Canada in the mid-20th century, and is now alive and well in Agartha. In this book, he recounts his story and describes life in this five-dimensional paradise. Mariana’s well-received book, Agartha – The Earth’s Inner World, had just been released (2010) when she had a visitation from her cosmic friend and source of inspiration, Jan Fridegård, who told her he, too, had been to Agartha. He gave an account of his experiences there in the company of his dear friend and companion Lydia, whom we’ve met in a couple of previous books. They had also been on exciting adventures out in Space to the Pleiades, Sirius B, and Andromeda. Did Mariana wish to be his writing medium again? Of course! In Agartha, they visit Porthologos, which houses a most extraordinary, gigantic library (with no books) that is several miles in length, wherein all human knowledge is contained. All one has to do is choose what one wishes to learn about, and in an instant, seemingly live holographic images appear, presenting the subject in question in a lifelike manner. In Agartha they meet the enigmatic Pilgrim, who imparts much of his immense wisdom to them and acts as their guide on several of their journeys. Among many other wonderfully fascinating places, they visit an intriguing research center, the Fortress, where notable inventions and discoveries evolve, and to which many eminent researchers from the surface world have been transferred, such as Darwin and Tesla. On the Pleiades (the Seven Sisters, comprised of many advanced Galactic Societies) no large cities exist, only very small communities in which virtually everyone knows one another and enjoys being in each other’s company. Interesting accounts are given regarding the Pleiadean Parliament, their school system, and general way of living. Janne and Lydia also learn about its wildlife and sea people. Truly – this isn’t a misprint – mermaids really do exist. … On Sirius B they make the acquaintance of a dolphin community, besides the amphibians – who have fish-suits. They further are privileged to experience a wondrously stupendous Evening song in the Ivory Cave. The journey ends in Andromeda, where all individuals are part of a higher consciousness, and life seems easy to live. They are shown healing houses, and even manage to visit a reptilian planet before returning to Agartha and its capital, Shamballa. For more info on Mariana Stjerna’s books, visit www.SoulLink.se. Paperback and ebook (Kindle) versions are available on Amazon. 

Books by Mariana Stjerna


Mariana Stjerna is a highly respected Swedish channel and author. She has been psychic since childhood and has written several spiritual books both for adults and children. On Angels’ Wings is the English publication of her Swedish breakthrough novel På Änglavingar. Other examples of her international releases include Time Journey to the Origin and the Future, The Bible Bluff, The Invisible People, Agartha – The Earth’s Inner World, and Mission Space.


In her novels Mariana Stjerna gives important paradigm-breaking information and knowledge presented in an easily accessible and entertaining way. Enjoy!


For more info on Mariana Stjerna’s books, visit www.SoulLink.se. Paperback and ebook (Kindle) versions are available on Amazon.


Are you afraid of dying? Do you believe that life ends with your last breath? This book is the story about what happened to the famous Swedish author Jan Fridegård after his passing. Through his spokesperson, Mariana Stjerna, he tells vividly with both humor and seriousness his experiences on "the other side."


The reader is invited to join Jan on an amazing journey On Angels’ Wings to different worlds and realms throughout our widespread cosmos. Some highlights: Crossing Over, The Akashic Records, Creation, The Nine Elders of Sirius, No Man’s World, Astral Realms, Midnight Mass, The Angelic Realm, Shamballa, Ashtar Command, Helia and Sananda. The book also contains a Cosmic Map of the different kingdoms, with the Great Spirit in the middle.


Time Journey to the Origin and the Future is the independent sequel to Mariana Stjerna’s well received novel On Angels’ Wings. While the former book is about what happens to us after our physical death, this book discloses the origin of man and what will happen to Earth and humanity when we have passed through the Grand Portal, become wiser, and achieved a higher consciousness.


In his own special way Jan Fridegård continues, through his writing medium Mariana Stjerna, to tell about his missions and adventures on the other side. This time he gets to make a time journey far beyond our own universe.


"It’s time for you to not only visit unknown planets or parts of our infinite beingness. You will travel into what one might call the future. … It will be a mystical journey across all boundaries – I mean technically feasible boundaries, seen from a human perspective. Now you have to throw off all your prejudices and put on a shimmering garment, which brings you into something that you in your wildest dreams could never have imagined," said Master Melchizedek when he informed us about the mission. "This journey is a lesson about what the cosmos really is, – or the original cosmology, if you think that sounds better."


We may, among other things, come along to one of the seven Super Universes, which revolve around a static Central Universe, and make visits to the following cultures of origin: the Mayas, the Maoris, the Incas, the Aztecs, the Sumerians, the Inuits, the Zulus, the Etruscans, the Basques, etc., all of which have been or still are represented on Earth. The book concludes with a visit to the Central Race and the WingMakers, who are living in a paradise … without violence, female maltreatment, lust for power, or greed.


The Da Vinci Code tells us that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were a couple and had children together. Is that really correct? Did Jesus die on the cross or did he not? What about the Immaculate Conception? Why was Reincarnation removed at the meeting in Constantinople in the year 553? What function did the Grail have, and is it true that Joseph of Arimathea collected the blood of the crucified Jesus in it? Where is the Grail now, and what mission will it have for humanity in the future? Who was the real Mary Magdalene – a whore or a saint? Was she perhaps the mother of the women’s liberation movement?


You will find the answers to these questions and much more in this book. Here is a new version of the life of Jesus and what happened in biblical times. The author’s spiritual contact has visited these times and has amazing things to tell. It is time for the Truth to be revealed the way it has been told to those who listen. But it is up to the reader to listen to their inner Truth, which is hidden in their heart.


Do you know that invisible beings, Nature spirits, of the most various kinds exist in Nature, and that every one of them has a special task?


Unfortunately, most of us don’t know this, and moreover, we only believe in things which we can see with our physical eyes. Fortunately, there are those who are able to see behind the veils we generally have in front of our eyes …


Through our ignorance we kill and scare off these elementals with our toxins, our violence, and our insensitivity, which already have had dire consequences. But it has not always been so. Once, a long time ago, humans cooperated with the elementals in harmony and balance, and to this unity we must return.


In this book, the writer’s spiritual inspirer, Jan, together with a religious historian and two elves, will make peep-holes into different ages – from about 20 million years ago and forward – in the greatest, most magical, and secretive of all worlds: Nature. The mission is to inform humans about the magic of Nature and also to investigate when, where, and how humans, elves, and Nature spirits cooperated in good spirit. The time journeys are always started from Mother Earth’s beautiful green cave in the innermost of the Earth.


At the end of the book are included a number of channeled messages from Pan, the uncrowned ruler and King of Nature.


Mariana Stjerna has, ever since her childhood, had a deep feeling for Nature and the elementals, both of which she has experienced and communicated with and still does. The time is now ripe to tell about this magical but so far invisible world, which exists right next to us. This is the fourth book inspired by Jan Fridegård.


In Medieval times, people believed the Earth was flat and that the sun rotated around it. The Catholic Church


considered it heresy to suggest that the Earth was round and orbited the sun. The astronomer Copernicus was aware of this, and did not dare publish his findings until on his death-bed in 1543.


The next major "disclosure" is revealed in this book. The Earth is hollow and populated by an advanced race, who is planning to come to the aid of people on the surface very soon. Will this concept be accepted by scientists and the religious community? Is this science-fiction, fantasy, or liberation? We can only advise you to read this book, written as a novel, and examine your own heart.


There are those who have already visited Agartha, the world inside the planet, and found society there advanced and flourishing. Admiral Richard E. Byrd, USA (1947) is one of them. He was not given to flights of fancy.

Mariana Stjerna made contact with Timothy Brooke, a Canadian, who appeared to her briefly and then "dictated" this book. He was saved by Agarthans from a shipwreck off the coast of Canada in the mid-20th century, and is now alive and well in Agartha. In this book, he recounts his story and describes life in this five-dimensional paradise.

Mariana’s well-received book, Agartha – The Earth’s Inner World, had just been released (2010) when she had a visitation from her cosmic friend and source of inspiration, Jan Fridegård, who told her he, too, had been to Agartha. He gave an account of his experiences there in the company of his dear friend and companion Lydia, whom we’ve met in a couple of previous books. They had also been on exciting adventures out in Space to the Pleiades, Sirius B, and Andromeda. Did Mariana wish to be his writing medium again? Of course!

In Agartha, they visit Porthologos, which houses a most extraordinary, gigantic library (with no books) that is several miles in length, wherein all human knowledge is contained. All one has to do is choose what one wishes to learn about, and in an instant, seemingly live holographic images appear, presenting the subject in question in a lifelike manner.

In Agartha they meet the enigmatic Pilgrim, who imparts much of his immense wisdom to them and acts as their guide on several of their journeys. Among many other wonderfully fascinating places, they visit an intriguing research center, the Fortress, where notable inventions and discoveries evolve, and to which many eminent researchers from the surface world have been transferred, such as Darwin and Tesla.

On the Pleiades (the Seven Sisters, comprised of many advanced Galactic Societies) no large cities exist, only very small communities in which virtually everyone knows one another and enjoys being in each other’s company. Interesting accounts are given regarding the Pleiadean Parliament, their school system, and general way of living. Janne and Lydia also learn about its wildlife and sea people. Truly – this isn’t a misprint – mermaids really do exist. … On Sirius B they make the acquaintance of a dolphin community, besides the amphibians – who have fish-suits. They further are privileged to experience a wondrously stupendous Evening song in the Ivory Cave.

The journey ends in Andromeda, where all individuals are part of a higher consciousness, and life seems easy to live. They are shown healing houses, and even manage to visit a reptilian planet before returning to Agartha and its capital, Shamballa.


https://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mariana_Stjerna

1 Universal Worlds

1a Realms of Darkness

1b Realms of Idols

2 The No Man’s World

2a Soul Transition Realms

3 The Astral World

3a Realm of Healthcare

3b Realm of Schools and Development

3c Realm of Science

3d Realm of Animals

3e Children’s Realm

3f The Akashic Records

3g Realms of Dreams

3h Realms of Music and Beautiful Arts

4 The Nature World

5 Parallel Worlds and Incarnation Worlds

6 The Ethereal World

6a Archangels and Angelic Realm

6b Realm of the Masters (The Great White Brotherhood)

7 World of the Elohim

8 World of the Seraphim (The Inner Core) The Great Spirit