Angel's Eye

Jean CDN Galliano

Description

Angel's Eye is a chronicle of astral travels and out-of-body experiences. It is about the awakening of consciousness and the evolution of mind. Angelic and demonic visitations culminate into personal redemption. Angel's Eye profiles a prolific initiation into higher truth. Strewn with pearls of poetry, it explores and reveals the inner reality of pure spirit.

Sujets

• Philosophie
• Métaphysique
• Conceptual
• Art

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 21 février 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456611989
• Langue: English

Extrait

ANGEL'S EYE
 
 
A Chronicle of Out of Body Experiences
 
 
By Jean Galliano
With illustrations by Roni Chernin
 
Dedicated to all Seekers of Truth
 


Copyright 2012 Jean Galliano & Roni Chernin
All rights reserved.
 
 
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
 
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-1198-9
 
 
No portion of this publication may be reproduced without the prior permission of the author or artist.
Story and poetry - by Jean Galliano
 
Book design and illustrations - by Roni Chernin
 
A MYSTERY SCHOOL HOUSE PUBLICATION
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
[e-mail]
 
Introduction
 
I began to experience Astral Projection in March, 1978. It would happen very spontaneously, and I had the feeling that it emerged out of a deep love I felt separated from.
 
The first thing made known to me, in those unfamiliar states of consciousness, was that I was not alone. I experienced contact with supernal beings. They became my mentors and guided my journeys. Great joy and fear were instilled in me. I began to spend long hours meditating. I was trying to remember and induce the sensations of astral travel. The idea of communicating this way took hold of me. I realized this new talent was an evolution of mind, and if it was happening to me, it was also happening to others. I heard poetry being recited. I found myself reading books pertaining to the order of the universe and the history of the world. Sometimes there were no words, only visual impressions, clairvoyance, and the crystal clarity of being.
 
This collection is a chronicle of out of body experiences, by which I learned that there is a sacred order to creation and a true history of humanity. To survive and evolve, we must realize our origin and accept the responsibilities of creation.
 
 
Peace and prayers,
 
Jean Galliano
 
I am the richest man
I am the poorest
The world is in my hand.
I am the mind of man.
 
 
I am the richest man
I am the poorest
The world is in my hand.
I am the mind of man.
 
 
I am the richest man
I am the poorest
The world is in my hand.
I am the mind of man.
 
 
I am the richest man
I am the poorest
The world is in my hand.
I am the mind of man.
 
 
I am the richest man
I am the poorest
The world is in my hand.
I am the mind of man.
 
to dream is the greatest of gifts
for if you can dream
no nothing can bind you and if
you can dream
no infinity can snatch you up
and nothing you cannot find or
create
 
...this is your strength
this is your power
 
dream
 

 
Who are you?
 
 
A reflection of those I know and love. Maya. I am that which I have learned to be,
an animal instinctively surviving in a jungle of concrete and condo
and just plain con.
 
 
My intuition is replaced by superstition. My god is reduced to "mumbo jumbo" I
never wrote. Fox the fox. Pray or be preyed upon.
 
 
"Where are you?" might be the better question.
 
 
What godforsaken time of man is it?
 
 
What have we evolved into?
What madness have we created in the name of civilization?
 

 
...I am consciousness examining Itself, attempting to define itself.
 
 
What do I feel? Why do I feel?
What do I think? What am experiencing?
Why? How?
 
 
…Eyes and ears to eternity.
 
 
I am God witnessing Himself, enjoying His great belly laughter as I riddle Him.
 

 
Out of Body Experience - The Veil is Lifted
I am falling into sleep when I become conscious of a sound, like a wind. It grows increasingly louder sweeping around my ears. In no time, I am engulfed. All other sounds are drowned out. My entire body is vibrating, resonating first with curiosity then with fear. I jump up and out of my sleep. I am disoriented and confused. What was that? A dream? A loud stereo? A passing siren? I feel uneasy. My heart is beating hard. Groggy on my feet I stagger a moment, but it is quiet now. I have been spending much time alone. Perhaps I am affected by the solitude and the new found chastity. I have been missing my love for long now. Perhaps I am suffering fear of another dream. I wake myself with loud noises.
 
Too tired to reflect, I dismiss whatever it was. I doze again to find myself at that fine line between consciousness and sleep. The sound is upon me. Where is it coming from? Am I inside of a hurricane? It is rippling through me, and tossing my very spirit from the peaceful boundaries of unconsciousness.
 
I fight to wake up but cannot. I struggle to move any part of my body only to grow more and more dense. A thickness settles all around me. I am the trunk of a tree. I fight still harder trying to break loose, but I cannot move even a finger.
 
In the distance I hear the cry of an infant. The cry echoes. It is me. I am the infant. Some part of me is crying small and helpless. But I am strong. I have made it through birth. Though I am cold, I can feel I am alive.
 
I manage to awaken. Sweating, I climb out of bed and go into the bathroom to look myself over. I widen my eyes in the mirror. "I look okay,” I think, wetting my face, "What the hell was that?"
 
I go back to my room. Sitting and pondering, I conclude that I am not dreaming. It is quiet and barely morning. I feel both anxious and excited. I am filled with strange anticipation, but when I try to think… my mind is blank, vast and unknown. How could I desire anything or anyone when I have a terrible sensation of never really knowing or understanding even my own soul? The cry of the babe through the storm and wind are fresh, phantom, and haunting. It was not a passing siren. My brow furrows. My posture is pensive.
 
Look in
So far you look
only at
in…

I sit in the stillness recalling certain metaphysical occurrences that I experienced as a child. They frightened me. I was glad I outgrew them, but there is one memory of my grandfather which has never left me. At the time of his death, I dreamed that he was giving me a message for my grandmother. This was particularly unusual because my grandfather only spoke Italian. I never knew what he was saying, but in this dream I understood him with utmost clarity. He gave me a message for my grandmother! He said that he had to go now, but he would wait for her. Then he disappeared through the wall. I realized he was dying.
 
I yell, "Mom, answer the phone! Answer the phone!" Catatonically, I repeat that phrase; although, I do not recall dreaming anything about the telephone. These are the words I am saying, "Answer the phone! Answer the phone!”
 
My parents could not have known what I trying to express. I woke everyone up.
 
"It isn't ringing,” my father answers. My father often consoled me through sleepless, monster-filled, childhood nights. But I was twelve now and over all that. My mother assures me that the phone is not ringing.
 
I say, "Pop's dead. He told me he has to go now. He said to tell Mom."
 
They look at me then at each other in surprise. "Pop's not dead,” my father says. But I know how Dad will say anything, and even lie to spare me pain. The phone did not ring… at least not until we all calmed down and went back to bed. Then the phone rang. No one could sleep after hearing the news that Pop had died "20 minutes ago."
 
...What holy my thoughts?
What miracle my feelings?
"Between these temples"
I said holding my head,
"house the Temple of the Lord."
 

 
The Veil is Lifted cont.
I attempt to sleep once again, but for the third time the mesmeric sound takes me. I am somehow unafraid this time. This does not feel like a dream. My body is asleep, but my mind is somehow still awake. I realize myself like a puff of air, like water moving through stone. I think, “This must be how it feels to die, yet I am conscious.” I hear the words, "You always wanted to know if there was more. This is your chance." Then, making one of the most important choices of my life, I decide to listen to the sound.
 
Instantly, my body grows heavy. I am falling fast, at the speed of this sound. I am synchronized with it. I am falling as fast as the sound is growing loud. It is too late for fear. I cannot pull myself out now. I fall for a long time through seemingly endless darkness. In sheer desperation, I abandon myself completely. When I become aware again the air is moving through me. I am descending a mountain. I am a valley mist. My body is a mask, a shield, an illusion, a boundary that my consciousness calls Self. I am as light as light itself. I find myself settling softly on my bed, blissful, rested, and peaceful. The sound fades into a wonderful music. I am soaked by it, borne on each note. The ecstasy of the song dims like a foreign language into forgetfulness. It is only meant for now. I cannot remember even the last note. Once it passes it is gone forever..