The New Age doesn’t hold much appeal for me. It seems like much of what is being explored there is simply the old age wearing new garments. Philosophy, prophecy, spiritual teachings have been around as long as humans have been using their frontal lobes. I’m also rather stunned by how much of the new age is about selling you a bill of goods. I read
somewhere that wealth, health, and relationship are the hot “sell words” for the 21st century. I get it. I really do, but there is no substitute for deep study of who we are and what our purpose is.
That was my disclaimer. I also can’t help but admit that I’m fascinated by other realities, the web of energy that seems to connect us all, the deeper links and hidden rivers that bind one to another through time and space. I like magic. I like mysticism.
When I was a college student I considered myself quite the agnostic. In reality, I was a recovering, knee-jerk reactive Catholic busy denying the existence of a higher realm. One time I had an independent study with a professor on “The History of Psychology.” This man was a scholar and also a devout Christian. He was not a blind believer but a student of the truth. One day we were discussing the mechanistic approach to human existence and he challenged me. He said that I could not have it both ways—that man is either a collection of “machine” parts all turned on and moving along until they don’t work anymore and the machine breaks and dies—or he is more. “Which is it?” he asked me. For the life of me, I could not say that we were merely a machine. It simply doesn’t account for the “more” that I knew is a part of us. My agnostic attitude took a heavy hit that day.
For me, writing is the action that takes me deeper into myself. I feel a little bit like a fisherman who is sitting in a boat looking out across the surface of the lake. It is pretty and shiny and looks good, but then I have to fall out of the boat and get wet. When I start writing each day, I am on the surface for the first page or two or three and then something happens, and I’m suddenly thrown into what I’m writing. The depth of this can be shocking, surprising, terrifying, seductive, enticing . . . I never know what I’m going to see.
Which brings me to Albert’s Manuscript.
Many years ago I wrote a novel that moved between two stories, one set in the current day and a second story set in a pueblo village in 1300. While I was skipping back from one story to the other, one of my characters meets Albert, an old grandfather that he didn’t know he had. My character was adopted. Later he receives a manuscript from the old man after he has passed. The manuscript describes a vision that Albert had as a young man about a mighty wind that comes to blow all of the people of earth into one another.
This was “Albert’s Manuscript.” I didn’t know any more about the vision except the wind part. The novel went the way of many other novels (into the drawer), and I forgot about it for a while. Then one day I was scouting around for something to work on and I came across that novel. I wondered exactly what was in Albert’s manuscript. Just for fun I bought a new notebook and sat down and began to write. It was an odd experience—my mind had no sense of this vision. I was like Jilly, the granddaughter with a tape recorder simply putting it down the way he wanted it told. For six days I wrote like this. I did not call it channeling or automatic writing, but there was an “other” energy to the telling of this story that I cannot explain. When it was done, it was done. I couldn’t seem to add anything to it or expand the story in any way.
In the story Albert meets First Man and First Woman and they explain to him that a cycle is ending on earth and that we must be prepared for the opening of a new cycle. What fascinates me most about this story is that four major movements of our development on earth are explained. There are the Walkers, the Watchers, the Weepers, and the Weavers. A fifth is implied—the Wise. First Man and First Woman are particularly concerned about the Weavers. They say that following “the wind of a thousand years” these new children of earth will be pattern makers able to synthesize and integrate, to make sense out of complex ideas by weaving them together. But only if we help them.
I am once again fascinated with the 5 W’s and the way they mirror not only centuries of time but also individual development. I’ve begun to scribble about what each one means and how to tell which ‘W’ applies to your own development. Are you a Watcher, a Walker, a Weaver . . . or a Weeper? If this intrigues you as it does me, I am offering a free pdf ebook of Albert’s Manuscript when you subscribe to my blog. Just register in the upper right hand corner and I’ll send you a copy. Some of you have already subscribed and I finally got the manuscript ready to go. It’s coming your way soon.
As I explore each ‘W’ in depth, I’ll share my ideas here.
Later, Albert’s vision became the foundation of our international peace project, The Bead People International. With all of our little thumb-sized Bead People everybody gets a story–The Wind of a Thousand Years. The project has a life of its own and has traveled to over 18 countries. Somehow, I think that is what Albert had in mind when he hired me.
Now, back to the New Age. I think that sometimes when we still the chatter and are willing to risk taking a dive into an idea or a vision, we enter the realm of great mystery and discovery. It happens to artists, scientists, writers, poets and ordinary people like me. We know when we are in these strange waters because we feel so alive, so sharp and open to possibilities. This human life widens out to include the realm of the heart and spirit. It always feels a little raw and risky but worth it.
Register. Read Albert’s Manuscript. Tell me what you think. Decide which of the five ‘W’s fits you. And then let’s talk.Share on Facebook