Yesterday I woke up from a dream of Drunvalo Melchizedek. For the first time that I remember he said my name out loud in front of a large gathering of people. I don’t see him in the dreamtime as much as I used to; dreaming him all the time was emotionally exhausting. I remember once I dreamt that we were crouched together beside a wall and giggling uproariously and whispering. Then I asked him, “Why are we whispering??” and then we just kept laughing even more. A couple weeks later there was an announcement that his wife teaches people how to remember everything they dream from the moment they fall asleep to the moment they wake up; and how the next night to continue their previous ‘dream’ from where they left off, when they go back to sleep again. My experience with Drunvalo has been a little confusing, because on this plane of reality we have barely spoken, yet profound events have occurred in the outer world whenever our paths have crossed.
Like Drunvalo says, confirmations always come in threes. First, yesterday, he showed up in the dreamtime. Second, yesterday, I randomly found an old flyer with a Vesica Pisces on it that I had not seen in thirteen years… ‘Circle of Hearts’ … When I first heard about the Roy LittleSun solstice ceremony, I didn’t think anything of it, because I did not have the funds to go anywhere. Then out of the blue my beloved grandmother announced that she wanted to go to Washington before she died and that she was taking me and my mum with her.
From Roy Little Sun’s Ceremonial Flyer: “U.S. Government consented to the Circle of Hearts Medicine Wheel Ceremony to take place at the Heart of a System that must lead to the Awakening. The Sacred Space that the circle holds will be used to dissolve the separations that have kept us from seeing that we are ONE. The Prayers sent by the smoke (of the Sacred Pipe Ceremony) concern the Union of All Races, particularly the Black and White Races – Healing of the African Wound.” The ‘Star-Map’ significance of this location is incredible – the site of the Medicine Wheel actually corresponded to the location of the face on Mars & the Pyramids of Giza (see work of Star Map Scholar Wayne Herschel) .
Circle of Hearts
A Sacred Ceremony With Roy Little Sun
Sunrise, June 20, 1998 until Sunset, June 21, 1998
On the Grounds of The Washington Monument
With Drunvalo Melchizedek, Ken Page, Chelsea Flor, et al.
Thirdly, as I started writing this morning, my ‘pre-edited’ blog post which included a copy of a non-email registered letter I had sent to Drunvalo Melchizedek over a year ago and which I had requested he burn after reading, my wordpress account was actively accessed through Messenger Connect, which I have not authorized on my account. Certain parts of my pre-edited blog post were deleted, and the font size on my entry was changed to a very small almost unreadable type, which I managed to fix. I was not planning to make the letter to Drunvalo public, but I’d rather everyone know what I have to say than just the ‘self-chosen’ hidden hackers. With some minor editing & bolded sentences with extra information added for those who were not at the D.C. Medicine Wheel, here is the Excerpt from my Letter to Drunvalo – which I wrote when I was feeling quite frightened & alone:
…This last weekend I went a little more public with my website (www.thefireflower.com) – and discovered that the photo album with some of my spiritual pilgrimage pics I wanted up, is missing. (Not an unusual occurrence either, by the way). I think the photos in question were ones from my one and only trip to Washington D.C. – for the Hopi Medicine Wheel Ceremony with Roy LittleSun. I told you what happened over dinner the following summer at your weekend workshop at the Omega Institute.
The day before the big ‘placing of the rock’, so to speak, I had wandered over around noon to find only Roy in the teepee and the hearth-keeper in attendance. The hearth-keeper was in the middle of handing me some sage for the fire, when suddenly there was a huge racket and two Naval Helicopters landed, oddly, a stone’s throw away on the lawn.
“This is the third time they’ve landed,” he said, looking concerned, as the both helicopters’ stairs lowered and serious looking men in full uniform (white hats and gloves, etc.) emerged to stand guard.
I thought it was weird, but had no idea what was going on. The hearth-keeper wasn’t exactly chatty. All I knew was that I had to get inside the circle and walk around and round ‘to protect it’. That was my gut reaction. Meanwhile, Roy had emerged from the teepee with his drum to start playing, and the hearth-keeper finished putting sage in my hand. I had picked up a small rock from the Mall on my walk over.
“Is it OK if I add my rock?” I asked.
The hearth-keeper didn’t say anything, he just ushered me into the Wheel as quickly as he could. Where I said my prayers of protection, placed my little rock very carefully, and watched the helicopters pack up and fly away.
You know the rest. You were there the next day. I was about to say your name (Drunvalo) to Roy and everyone present when to my shock it dawned on me why I couldn’t.
In the presence of Drunvalo and the gathered, Roy explained it was the first time a Hopi Medicine Wheel had ever been conducted outside of Hopiland, and that the U.S. Government had given special permission for the ceremony to be held at the foot of the Washington Monument. That it was a very special ceremony, because instead of the usual 108 stones, there were actually 109 – Roy said raising the 109th stone in the air – and that whoever placed the 109th stone would lead the world through the Gates of Ascension. And that he had written President Clinton inviting him to come and place the 109th stone. And that three times the Presidential Helicopters had landed (when it is the President, there are always two helicopters, apparently). And that each time the President had not appeared. Roy then asked if anyone disagreed with him placing the 109th stone, that if they felt it should be someone else, to speak up. I would have gladly said Drunvalo – except that for better or worse and by complete accident I had placed the 109th stone the day before when the two Helicopters had landed for the 3rd time. Ooops. Story of my life, wrong place, wrong time.
After the closing ceremony of the wheel everyone was invited to take a rock. I did not. The hearth-keeper came up to me and asked only one question:
“Are you alright?”
I nodded yes.
Then, as I was walking away, a youngish man in a pastel button-down shirt and khakis approached me.
“You didn’t take a rock.”
“No, it’s OK.”
“Well, I think you should have a souvenir of Washington,” he said, opening his back-pack .
With great care he lifted out a small bundle and unwrapped it. Inside it was a porcelain dish with a covered lid. He lifted the lid. The dish was filled with earth.
“From the hills overlooking Washington,” he said.
He dug around in the earth and handed me a marble. I thought he’d lost his, but accepted his ‘gift.’ I had a bad feeling about it but I didn’t want to be rude. He was clearly an establishment Washingtonian and very proud of his illustrious roots. He then invited me to a Christian prayer group to be held on the Mall a month or two later. I declined, and quickly walked away, wondering what the hell he’d just given me.
That night in the dreamtime I was attacked by a Native American warrior who was determined to scalp me. I woke up in my hotel room, exorcised the stone, and sent the Warrior on Home. The marble had been taken from his resting place, where he had fallen in battle on the hills overlooking the capital. The guy had said it was from his family’s property.
The next day, my grandmother and I got in a cab and I asked to be taken to the Washington Masonic Temple. Instead, the driver drove us all the way to the George Washington Masonic National Memorial, ‘Shooter’s Hill’, Alexandria to the stepped temple on the hill. Where again, there was a one man ‘welcoming committee’ in requisite khaki pants and button-down shirt. As well as two very tall, well built blond men who did not make eye-contact with anyone and who were clearly disgusted with the whole scene. I still do not know who they were.
I’m a little concerned.
This last week the level of attention I’ve received has changed. A little more out in the open, including someone I’ve trusted completely who has turned out to have had a serious agenda all along. And when I say serious, I mean serious. I think I am at the point where I really do need some help. And you are the only person that I know of who might actually be able to to do so. Or know of someone who can. Thank-you.
Today’s Blog Post, continued: After the ‘rock’ debacle at the Medicine Wheel in D.C. about which I said absolutely nothing at the time, I did end up having lunch with Ken Page, and with the brilliant Chelsea Flor and her then partner, who I had met along with Roy Little Sun at a New Mexico Star Knowledge Conference months earlier. We ended up doing some spontaneous grid work together at the Vietnam Memorial. As much as I would have liked to have spoken with Drunvalo at the D.C. Medicine Wheel, Spirit had other plans.
The first time Drunvalo and I did actually meet in the person I was invited to join him and his group at dinner. It was at the Omega Institute in New York State, the same weekend that John F. Kennedy Jr., his wife and sister-in-law were all killed. I knew before checking a map that the tragedy had occurred on the same grid-line upon which Omega was located, which runs back up through my Toronto home-town. But that night at dinner, I had no idea what had happened, and I’m not sure anyone else did either. We were in our own higher dimensional bubble. It was then I told Drunvalo what happened in D.C.
Drunvalo’s response: “Leave it to a woman.”
Several years later I finally attended a ‘Living In the Heart’ Workshop, for which the prerequisite ‘Flower of Life Level One’ was waived because of my own personal direct experience / spiritual initiation of the Flower of Life and my own already fully activated Merkabic Field. This was held at Blue Mountain, Ontario (very near the proposed location of the open pit mine featured in my previous blog post). One of the things that happened at the ‘meeting’ – someone in the group asked him if he had a female counterpart on this plane of existence. He said yes, but that she was ‘not public’. Immediately afterward in the restaurant, a well dressed man not in the workshop asked me point blank: “When are you going to break the news?” I did not know what to say, partly because I had no idea how to go about doing so. I can’t for the life of me remember the rest of the conversation except “Stay in your heart,” I ended up telling the stranger. “I’m already dead,” he said in response. “Just stay in your heart.” Who was he?? Again, I have no idea. The next time Drunvalo came to Toronto (I did not attend his workshop) we had the giant power black out in the entire north east.
Why did Spirit have me place the 109th stone? That is the 64 million dollar question. Why did Spirit send me into Canyonlands, Utah, in the middle of the night? Some of the stuff that got ‘deleted’ from this post stayed deleted – for now. Fortunately or unfortunately, as the case may be – I’ve already Ascended in this lifetime. The Ascension part was great – the hanging out here in 3D afterward – I would not wish it upon my worst enemy.
So, I really hope you enjoy ‘Ascension: The FireFlower.’ I wrote it just for you. It is designed to transcend duality and specifically heal ‘the African Wound’ as Roy Little Sun put it. We are all born of Mother Africa. It is time to remember… ‘Ascension: The FireFlower‘ is the book I was looking for twenty years ago, and could not find. It took me over ten years to complete, as there were things I could not write about until I had processed them completely. It is through my writings that I share my being. Other than a single novel, I don’t have anything to sell you. I can’t sell you a direct experience of the higher realms, based on a promise and a wish and a prayer, and neither will anyone else who’s actually ‘been there’. Knowing this, I cannot set up a structure of teachings or hierarchical degrees, trade-marks or initiations to be bought or sold. Spirit is beyond the grasping paw-prints of the marketplace or human ego. There is no mystery school anyone can establish greater than the Mystery of Spirit and Creation which abides within you. All I can do, based on personal gnosis, is assure you beyond any doubt, of the eternal existence of the divine presence within; the holy presence which hides behind the mind, the body, the personality, the ego, memory, emotion, and the illusion of time. There is so much more to life and reality as we know it.