Maturation – Pre-Conception to 21 Years of Age

Tales of a Luciferic Archangel Walk-In

The Note

Ronin was a powerful-looking man, difficult to age, late fifties, sixties, maybe more. His full head of shoulder-length salt and pepper hair surrounded his long thin face softening the stoic expression. Not a wrinkle where wrinkles are expected, but a deep furrow down each cheek like worn crevices carved by invisible tears. He was dressed casually in a tailored long sleeve blue shirt, sitting upright on the stool, elbows on the bar. A large antique mirror the full length of the back bar reflected a complete view of the entrance and the entire floor area.

From the moment I entered the Paradise Hotel & Bar, I felt I was being observed, not watched, observed from head to toe, inside and out. Then I noticed he was looking at me through the mirror. The room was small, with ten or twelve tables. As I walked toward Ronin the strangeness of the last thirty-six hours flashed through my mind. I should start there.

I am answering a note I took from a bulletin board in my local grocery store. Normally I don’t notice bulletin boards but this time the handwriting on the old, yellowed business card caught my eye. I passed it in my haste, but as I walked a few aisles a picture of the writing kept popping into my head. The next thing I knew I had unpinned the note, stuck the card in my shirt pocket, and thought about it no more.

Later that night I rediscovered the note. The handwriting was neat, the message blunt and to the point.

Wanted

One gentleman between the ages of 70 and 80 needed to fill a gap in an ‘old man’s’ gathering.

If interested bring this note to the meeting at 1666 Old Indian Road ~ June 21st at 8:30 PM.

Ronin

I had been thinking about either searching for or starting a group of like-minded men to talk about what they and their friends experience and feel as they age. I am interested in aging because I am old and growing older so this note could be thought of as a coincidence, but I don’t believe in coincidences, everything is relevant. Also, I took it as a good sign when the hair did not stand up on the back of my neck when I saw the card. Maybe my unseen friends guided me to this message? I decided to sleep with the thought of it and check with my body tomorrow to see how I feel.

The night turned yesterday into this morning the 21st of June the summer solstice. I decided to follow the instructions even though I felt a twinge in my gut when I Googled the address and saw a picture of the old Paradise Hotel and Bar with the number 1666 adorning the rotunda.

Over the years I have learned to notice then listen to twinges in my organs and other parts of my body or when the hair stands up on my neck, arms, or head. These are the whispers that everybody experiences but few pay attention to and even fewer act on. In the future when most of us incarnate this awareness will be a conscious instinct. I have learned whenever I experience the whispers, I know that I am to be present, fully focused on the moment, and prepared for anything, but this was more than just anything. I needed some guidance from my old friends, my unseen friends.

I pulled my fields close, focused my attention on the moment, and called my unseens to accompany me.

Meeting an Archangel 

I drove along Main Street weaving to avoid the potholes, old shopping carts, and pieces of discarded furniture. The structural skeletons I passed were reduced to piles of rubble, megalithic-shaped wall remnants, and crumbling foundations. I was so focused on not driving into a hole or over some object that I didn’t even notice the large building a few blocks away with the brightly lit marquee just as it was in the old picture. The road was changing from a garbage-strewn obstacle course to a seemingly new paved one. Amazing.

In the boom days, the intersection of Old Indian Road and Main Street was the heart of the town and the Paradise Hotel and Bar kept it beating. I wondered if some of the old mine shacks and remaining buildings were being refurbished. I would think that a remodeled frontier mining hotel would be a great tourist attraction.

The hotel was the only building standing, its sides tattooed with remnants of wallpaper from once attached buildings giving the impression that they had been violently torn away. The few broken buildings lingered as ghosts. The only light was the red neon Paradise Hotel and Bar marquee hypnotically blinked on and off.

I walked up the seven steps to the front doors. Two brutish men stood facing each other, resembling pillars holding up the arch one on either side. They were giants, twins in size and dress, their facial features were different but difficult to distinguish. Although they resonated no danger or violence like so many their size they were still intimidating; my eyes were level with the top buttons of their vests. Their heads did not move, but their eyes followed me as I entered the hotel.

Besides the two giants at the entrance, I saw no one else as I entered the hotel lobby. The bar was to the left. I hesitated in the lobby for a long moment looking at the decorations—excellent reproduction, everything looked antique right down to the massive grey safe with ornate gold design around its edges. Although there was no one in the lobby I felt that I was being watched; I do not know how but watched from every direction, and I felt safe. The always ‘on guard’ feeling I have felt since early childhood vanished. I knew I was a bit uptight, but until I felt the tension surrender to feeling safe, I was not aware of how uptight I have been.

I introduced myself as I slid onto the stool to Ronin’s right. I swung around to get a better look. I was surprised, the man was big but not as large as I had first thought until my body was next to his. He didn’t turn to look at me content to look at my reflection in the mirror. A long but comfortable silence followed. I hardly noticed because I was so fascinated by looking at the side of his face. I was intrigued and I was sure I had seen that face before. But where? Then I noticed my reflection in the corner of his eye, a full image of me sitting on the bar stool staring at his face. The image startled me because it was so clear; I often convince myself that my imagination is on occasion too imaginative, but I saw what I saw.

Ronin was aware of my reaction which I assume caused him to finally speak. His voice was deep and melodic. No abrupt starts, no sharp endings. “If you stare at the side of my head, you are looking at an angle, I am unable to see or defend. Please, look at the images in the mirror so we both see what the other sees. See my eyes, examine my face, and check out the bar and those who may eventually join us as witnesses. After you fill your eyes, I will tell you who I am and what my intentions are. I am sorry that this will not be the old man’s group you were seeking but I will make this and if you choose other meetings interesting. I am not asking you to trust me, I am asking you to be patient and listen to what I have to say. You can make the trust decision later,” he paused, “after you have more information.”

I turned toward the mirror seeing his full reflection barely glancing at the other reflected images before he said, “Thank you for coming. I have been looking forward to having conversations with you…”

I interrupted, “You knew I was coming? I didn’t tell anyone. How could you know?” I’m jumpier than I thought.

Ronin continued, “You and I are old friends, but you do not know me nor I you. This is the first time we have met physically, but we go quite a way back etherically. Although I work with several people who live in your area, you are the only one who took the note. Why do you think that is?”

The question stunned me. I finally asked, “How many notes did you put on the bulletin board?” Ronin answered before I finished my question, “One. I believe it was pinned there a few minutes before you arrived at the food market.”

“I’m the only one; how can that be?”

Ronin answered still looking at the mirror, “Yes, you were the only one.” Ronin sighed and barely audibly continued, “For now. Yes.”

He did not explain how it was that I was the only one. The whole meeting was weird, why I am here in the middle of nowhere searching to join a meaningful men’s group, but instead, I find myself sitting at a bar with a total stranger. Weird or not I should feel uncomfortable about this situation, but I don’t. I do feel different in many ways—lighter, thinner, younger, and smarter. I feel good! I took a deep breath and thought about what Ronin said. ‘Yes, for now.’ I thought to myself, ‘what does that mean?’ With that questions flooded into my head. I needed to know exactly what he was offering me and what I had to do. Who are the big guys at the door? What do you want? Why the mirror and why won’t you look at me? Where am I and what is this place stuck in the middle of such deterioration?

While I was gathering my thoughts to ask Ronin a question, he took a deep breath and in an apologetic tone said, “Please, don’t feel uncomfortable about any strange or new feelings you are experiencing. You have nothing to fear. You may even begin to understand that the feelings you are feeling are from the higher realms so enjoy them while they last. What you will feel and some of what you will see and hear are planes, realms, and kingdoms you have previously visited while doing your work so you should not be surprised.”

I have been steeped in metaphysical thought most of my life and have registered thousands of hours of meditation and deep trance self-healing. I had experienced feelings emanating from higher realms before, but these sensations were different. Even the way I felt about myself was different and better than ever. Everything seems to have changed since I picked up the card, everything is strange. And here I am in a bar rank with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke talking to a stranger who claims to be a walk-in archangel in the middle of who knows where and I feel great. Go figure.

Ronin’s voice was soft, yet it filled the room, a whisper that could be heard anywhere in the bar. It was rhythmic without song, deep, alluring, and hypnotic. Ronin continued, “You are the only one to show up because you were the only one who saw the notice. Anyone else who read the notice saw something different, they intuitively knew the offer was not right for them. The only person who could see the particular notice you did, follow its directions, and arrive here at the right time was the person the note was meant to speak to. That person turned out to be you. You will be able to understand what I want to convey to you because you have trained in what you call the arts of deep trance meditation, some call it self- or autohypnosis, while others call it the shaman’s awareness. You have also guided your clients through many worlds and realms while successfully compromising with numerous high and low vibrational beings and working with both dark and light beings.”

“Ronin,” I said, “There are many people out there who know a lot more about metaphysics than I do. Real members of real secret societies and ashrams teaming with people who are more spiritual than I. In this area, there are many shamans and healers with superb credentials. I don’t see…”