Experiment 100 Archangel Metatron

- connecting to the depths of being,
saying yes to that which was denied
or resisted within life, suffering
unto love of existence, apart yet whole.

Experiment 100 ran simultaneously with Experiment 54.
It was a time of confusion and re-discovery.

I had tasked myself to openly explore that which I have most opportunistically encountered for a long time. One year should suffice, maybe two. I left everything familiar, pushed and dissected what I thought I knew, and did what seemed illogical but true. At least, true enough for those I meet henceforth. Their experiences became a part of me, their knowledge grows my own wisdom. I dare let their thoughts into my mind, just for a moment to see the world through their different eyes and then mine.

It was a lovely time with some lovable people.

The Dreamweaver - age 24

She sat in the back seat of an all terrain vehicle driven by a female friend. The front passenger was an older male friend who had just joined them on this adventure. He had taken care of the girls while they were trekking around base camp of a Himalayan hill. Her friends riding up front had saved her life from a mountain serpent guarding its nest.

She had been carelessly carefree and did not see the markers of the serpent's lair. She had been lucky and survived that deadly encounter after a spell of painful suffering from the serpentine bite. Its venom had paralyzed her and effected a series of hallucinogenic dreams. She had almost died. Almost given up hope to live.

They were on their way to pick up a newer male friend of her female friend; she liked him a lot. Her friend had hoped she could get to know him better and seemed like a nervous little girl again. They drove past rows of quaint homes with miniature gardens and the occasional house pets. He was standing outside a black gate with stone brick walls. She was looking at the wrong side of the street.

The back door opened swiftly and got her attention. She turned with a little curiousity at this latest boy who caught her friend's lovely and soft heart. Their eyes met with equal knowing and a strange familiarity overcame her. Hi. Hello. They shook hands of friends long lost yet not before met. A brother found, her mind echoed.

// She is in an assembly hall with people milling all around her, most seated, others stand. They were there for a common purpose, to entreat and celebrate. An old friend with his wife and their three year old boy are seated to her right. The honoured lord appears in golden robes and everyone stands. The guy is on my left is known to her - This is he accompanied by his graceful young wife and eight month old son.

// She smiles at them, and is enchanted by the baby boy - his baby boy whom she plays with and coodles. He trusts her, as does his wife as they watch her interact with their son. He leans over to her and she thinks he wants his baby son back. Instead he adjusts his son's blanket over her arms and whispers I love you still. He remembers her and misses her. His wife smiles her approval understandingly.

// She walks to a makeshift cot where they put the tired tiny tots in the back of the hall. The baby is fits into her lap snugly and falls fast asleep. She watches over his sleeping babe. He comes  to them. She thinks he is going to take the little yawning tot. He does not and stays close watching them. He moves to adjust his son upon her lap. She is touched by his tenderness, he seems sad. He turns to face the stage. She turns to look too.

// The lord in the golden robe has ascended to his ceremonial place. He chants a fiery prayer for the people. In his left hand, he holds outstretched a shrunken skull - The Tearing Skull.

// The lord swiftly shifts into a crescendo of ancient words and sets the skull on fire spontaneously. The skull fragments and comes to life with layers and folds of muscle and skin; it begins to weep of all the deeds and regrets it holds. Its family is nearby, conscientiously listening to its last confessions and wisdom.

// The language of the fire skull seems foreign like Cambodian yet she understands its pain. It asks for forgiveness and speaks of the emptiness of the form world. It laments quite a bit and its living family are moved to help the skull achieve its final peace. The fire burns the troubled bones to its place in the void.

// She looks at her friends who now have their backs to her. She smiles a little in knowing comfort. She floats more than she walks; she seems to be flying off the floor in some movements. The gravity seems incompatibly low for her, she walks as though lifted by a power within. She takes her turn to say goodbye.