My Hidden Heritage II

Although the Hellenic influences of my childhood were not in the forefront of my training and education as a deep-trance medium for 'the Work', which was focused primarily on the here and now, my affinity for the Xotika: Devas, Nature Spirits and Elementals, was highly valued and I was soon considered an expert on such matters by those in our circle.

What I didn't glean from direct personal experience, or mysteriously know, was recalled from Lemnian folklore, my school studies, and my own voracious reading. Theosophy, both ancient and modern, provided me with time-tested and functional ways of structuring my expanding insights into such matters.

At one point, a powerful anomalous experience in Tenafly inspired the idea for writing a book on my numerous experiences with folkloric and metaphysical entities.

During a severe snowstorm in the mid-late 1970s, on my way home from a channeling session, I found myself in a mythic  Hyperborean wonderland where I learned a great deal about the primal forces of Winter. These intelligences included various types of sylphs, collectors of the traumatized dead, and giants. There were different types of giants, some brutish and elemental, others much more refined. I was informed that some of the latter type had once been considered gods by the people in the frozen north.

My narrator and guide eventually revealed himself to be a blue sky god, a highly evolved spirit of the air. He freed me from the altered state I had somehow gotten stuck in, and extracted a promise from me that, when I was ready, I would share the tale of our encounter and perhaps work with him on a project of mutual interest.

When I found myself back in my body and covered with snow, I realized that this being had also protected me from the freezing cold and probably saved my life as well. I was extremely grateful. I did not know exactly who he was, though over the years I made many educated guesses.

I eventually found a potential publisher. And I called the tale of this encounter Winter Wonderland.

One day my editor suggested I check out a boulder in the woods off East Clinton Avenue as several psychics he knew had detected a strange anomaly. Of course I went forthwith and discovered a force that generated distraction, confusion and misdirection. It took a while to navigate through this. Once on the other side I was granted a vision of Phoenicians here in Tenafly. There was a scroll in a tube and other treasures buried in the woods. These were protected by powerful spells and a metaphysical Guardian construct. I then saw bulldozers, superimposed on the scene, disturbing the ground, breaking the spells and releasing the Guardian.

Telepathically I expressed a desire to help preserve what was lost. The Phoenician in the vision then seemed aware of me and granted his assent.

I could not locate the treasures while I lived in Tenafly. For a variety of personal reasons, I scrapped the book project and moved to New York City. The bulldozers did eventually come, shortly thereafter, and I presumed the Phoenician artifacts forever lost. As part of me believed that the vision may have been symbolic, I sought the treasures elsewhere.

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