Direct Angelic Experience

I don’t believe in angels… I know angels:

If you are blind and have never seen the sun rise it doesn’t matter how many hypotheses you can array, you still don’t know. Belief is simply the adoption of someone else’s idea. Once you have seen the sun you don’t believe in it, you know it.[i]

I’ve seen angels… this is the reason that I don’t believe in angels; I know angels. Most importantly, I have not seen angels in my mind, in a cloud formation or in my dreams or as some type of human figure. I’ve been in the presence of and witness to an archangel and the two assisting angels. To verify this, my wife, Sherry, and twelve of our apprentices were witness to the same sacred visitation. It occurred on the night of the new moon, August the 3^rd, 1997 in the woods of Maine.

The first indication of what was to come occurred in the winter of that year. At the time, even in the wildest part of my imagination, I had no idea or inclination of what the future might hold for us and our apprentices.

I was conducting a corporate community (what others call team) building seminar in the foothills of Maine. At the conclusion of the seminar, in front of everyone that was in the room, a white feather mysteriously fell out of the air and dropped into the palm of my hand. It was an enclosed room with no explanation for its appearance out of thin air.

Over the next several months two more feathers mysteriously appeared. Again out of thin air and in front of our students. During one of our weekend teaching sessions, two of our apprentices, over the lunch break, had independent visions of myself riding on a white horse.

During the summer, we always conduct longer term trainings out in nature. This summer it was scheduled to be four days beginning on a Friday, August 1^st, and ending on Monday, August the 4^th. The theme of the training was initiation, fear and ‘death and re-birth’ including the experiential experiences of a 24-hour solitary quest, a death spiral and the original form of baptism—bathing.  

Since we usually take mostly novices into the outdoors, I would always perform prayers of safety, love and power before the trainings. This time, however, I did a different prayer.

I prayer for a sign of ‘who I was’ in my last incarnation: ‘Let them see a sign knowing that I was ________________.’ I mentioned the name, as people would recognize it today. I then let go of any expectations about the prayer. Little did I expect the sign, in reality signs, which would be given.

The Sunday of the four-day training had dawned bright and very dry, little rain had fallen that spring and summer. We had planned on constructing the death spiral early in the afternoon so that we could conduct the ceremony at dusk. In addition, during the evening, I wanted to work on the issue of phobos—the Greek word for fear and the origin for the word phobia. The exercise that I had chosen was one that I had conducted many times before. And, in my mind, was an excellent way to help a person release a fear that had haunted them.

In reality, it was a very simple exercise. Our apprentices had to identify a fear of theirs and then out of natural items fashion an image of their fear. They would then fight that fear with a wooden sword called a boken and triumphantly burn the remains in a ceremonial fire.

But Sherry and I faced a major hurdle. It was basically drought conditions that summer, which generally prohibited an open fire. Without the fire, the experience would be hallow and not complete. Shortly in the early afternoon, our dilemma was solved by an intense thunder and lightning storm.

One moment, the sky was crystal clear tinged only with a few clouds, and in the next moment, the sky had darkened into an ominous swirling bluish-black tempest. There was a pause of sound and movement as if a giant was holding its breath. And then… thunder, lightning and rain.

Torrents of rain fell as thunder boomed overhead and lightening struck all around us. Everyone ran to huddle underneath the confines of the cooking tarp, shaking and in awe. The intensity was otherworldly. People were scared at the suddenness and intensity of the wind and the rain, the thunder and the lightning.

As the storm abated and stopped, the earth felt different—a purification of sorts. And of course, now, we could have a fire. But the storm changed the timing of building the death spiral. It would now occur late in the afternoon not earlier as had been planned. 

For the remainder of the afternoon, we finished building the death-spiral and prepared for the death-and-rebirth ceremony. When we were almost finished building the spiral, one of our apprentices took a picture of me within the center of the spiral.

As with all things, there is an opening, middle and an ending to the ceremony. Previously, I’ve opened many spirals, but this one, was extremely different. I had a feeling that this was not just any ordinary spiral. There was something different about it. When I was ready to open the spiral, I let go of any attachment or anticipation and cleared my mind as I prepared to enter it.

Sherry and I had chosen two apprentices as birth guardians. They would stand at the mouth of the ‘birth canal’ of the spiral, which was also the entrance, and pull the ‘new ones’ into existence. The others would stand on the outside of the outermost spiral chanting a phrase linking heaven and earth, until it was their turn to enter and face their symbolic death. Each one who chose to enter the spiral must stand at the entrance praying and contemplating their desire to enter the spiral. If they chose to still enter, they must take their first step into the vortex with their left leg as a sign of intent and focused-will to ’let go of their old self.’

As I stood at the entrance to the death spiral, I knew that this spiral was extremely powerful. And then I had a thought that my spirit song[ii] was coming. 

And with that, my left foot stomped the ground inside the spiral and as my right leg caught up with my left, my spirit song sprang from my lips, and I began walking the spiral with serpentine movements of my body. The response from our apprentices was immediate—fear and wonder became etched on their faces. So much so that a few chose not to participate.

After the death spiral, the apprentices fashioned images out of wood of one of their fears. The fear was to be minor, one that they could let go of in the night’s exercise. Darkness came around 9:00 o’clock when I lit the fire to begin the experiential exercise. Everyone sat on the ground in a semi-circle with the fire in the center of them and the direction of the west open so that each apprentice could approach the fire from the west—the black direction of fear and the direction of re-birth.

One after another, each apprentice approached the fire and laid their symbolic image of their fear before them. When they were ready, they fought their fear with the wooden sword and then tossed the remains into the fire. Whether it was tiredness or the effects of the death spiral, the apprentices only half-heartedly fought their fear.  

When all were finished I looked around the semi-circle and each apprentice’s head was hanging low staring into the fire. It was evident that they knew they had listlessly with little heart fought their fear. How was I going to tell them that they blew it? They had squandered an awesome opportunity to release one of their fears. With these thoughts going through my mind, I decided to stand and talk more philosophically about releasing fear rather than giving a searing commentary on—‘you blew it.’

I stood and began a more nurturing synopsis of the exercise, only stating a few things before… before I felt my neck twitching—I recognized the feeling that I always get when there are otherworldly energies around. But this time, it was different. I turned my head to look behind me into the woods. Everyone else was still seated on the ground staring into the fire. No one else was looking up.

This was the night of the new moon and the only light in the clearing was cast by the small fire. The night before I had stood in this same spot observing the dark woods, while the apprentices were on their vision quest; I was listening and making sure that everyone was all right. When I had turned off my flashlight, in the blackness of the night, I couldn’t see more than a foot or so in front of me.

“What… no.” These two short thoughts coursed through my mind as I turned my head back around to see if there was some other light source coming from my front other than the small fire. And when I saw nothing that could explain what I just saw, I turned my head back around again in dis-belief—making sure I saw what I saw…. This all took less than a minute’s time.

“Please stand and be quiet, we have visitors,” I said as calmly as possible, all the while not knowing what I had seen.

As Sherry stood up next to me, looking at the ‘lights,’ I leaned over and whispered into her ear, “What is that?”

Without any hesitation she said, “Why, they’re Angels!”

And then I remembered my prayer for a sign of who I had been. It all made sense, but I never expected a sign like this.

“A shooting star…,” someone said as we all looked up as it blazed across the night sky.

“Three crosses,” said another.

“A white dove…,” an apprentice exclaimed as it flew over our heads.

“Look at the stones of the death spiral…,” another said. The stones had at least doubled and tripled in size; some were now the size of boulders. But the most unusual thing was the greenish otherworldly glow that surrounded each.

After this no further words were spoken. Time seemed to be suspended as Sherry and I and our twelve apprentices witnessed in awe a massive column of light a few feet off of the ground at least five feet wide and four or five times as tall. This light was in the north by the entrance to the death spiral. It was a light that was whitish and not of this world. Suspended higher up by it were two other columns of light not quite as bright or as large. The legends have always told that an archangel is always assisted by two helping angels. And many traditions believe that the north direction is symbolically the direction of heavenly beings such as angels. After an unknown amount of time had passed….

“We need to leave and go to bed now,” Sherry whispered to me. “There are only a few hours left until we have to get up and go bathing.”

“You’re right,” I replied.

I then turned and said to the others in a quiet voice, “It’s only a few hours until we put you in the stream and baptize each of you. We all need to get some sleep, so please return to your tents; be respectful as you leave and give prayers, blessings and a thank you for this experience.”

Sherry and I were the last to leave and return to the shelter where they were staying. Sherry slept soundly the few hours that we had, while I stayed awake. My mind was focused on the visitation and trying to figure out the identity of the archangel. The last doubt of who I was had left my mind; I again gave blessings for answering my prayer of giving a sign of my past incarnation. And right before I was going to wake my wife up to go bathing, I thought, “Will they figure it out… who I was, who I am and who I will be?”

Summer turned into fall as I had finally solved the mystery of the identity of the archangel. The archangel was Mikael, known to most as the archangel Michael. I had determined this through my research of the connection between myself and the archangel:

1.       The Archangel Michael’s day is Sunday and the astrological sign is Leo.

2.       The visitation was on the night of the new moon and I was born on the new moon.

3.       Mikael is the warrior archangel and the guardian of the ‘mysteries.’

4.       Mikael is the guardian of labyrinths (death spirals included) and the organizer of earth energies.

5.       Mikael has always been connected with both water and lightning. And according to various prophecies, great events are often heralded by unusual weather conditions.

6.       Mikael is known as the angelic psychopomp, the mediator between life and death, and the archangel of the shamans.

7.       The celestial bees are under the supervision of Mikael. The bee is our family aumakua.

8.       And finally, Mikael assists the messengers—‘lightbringers’ of the different Ages of humanity and is the messenger of the prophets.

It was late one October afternoon when one of our apprentices contacted me. “JC, you’ll never guess what I have,” he said in an excited tone.

“While you were finishing the late afternoon building of the spiral, I took a picture of you in the center of it. When I got home I just threw the camera in my vehicle and just last week got around to getting the pictures developed. I knew something was up when the photo shop lady said, ‘One of your pictures has caused quit a stir.’ Guess what; I have a daylight photograph of the Archangel and the two assisting angels. They were observing us building the spiral… and no one ever suspected!”