Mandala of Ascensions

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      The stardome was pretty this time of now.
      Many galactic federations have their bases on those far away spheres.
      Theirs was a bright city hovering in the mental realms over Ascension Island, right in the middle of the South Atlantic.

      Ascended Master Medlik (alt. short for Melchizedek) expected his students to come soon for the first class.
      His teachings were known, but needed practical experiences to further the study group’s abilities. They needed to learn to balance Compassion with Wisdom, in this new higher vibration.

      Getting the bigger picture was sometimes unnerving for the new recruits, they wanted to jump right in, back to the turmoil of the lower vibrations, to “help” their earthling souls in need of guidance. But it would be breaking the sacred Law of Free Will. Wisdom had to balance Compassion, and Knowledge only wasn’t Wisdom.

      He could already feel some of the new ones would be tough. Lady Master Blather, had done great on the Hematite and Amber ray, channelling ancient wisdom of the Old through the famed earthling known as Madam Blataski. But her ever growing desire to right wrongs always went in the way of her higher callings. That, and her indulgence in higher blissdom.

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      Domba didn’t know why he’d attract those strange beings of light who tried to cajole him into following their glib tongued advice.
      Domba was no fool, he’d learnt young that nobody gets interested in Domba unless someone wants to play tricks on him.
      His life was a prison, that much he knew. The light guys could well be the jailers themselves for all he knew. He didn’t care about that, or any of their business with power. Power of knowledge, for all the good it did, didn’t seem to have guided the human race to better ends. And compassion was for foolisher than himself.

      For now, he did have fun a little with the one who called herself Dispe, for her spirit seemed benign enough, a fountain of wonderment and joy in contrast with the way he’d learnt to see the world. He couldn’t really understand all about her wild rants, but if anything, he was curious about her views, and how she sustained them, like as a child, he was endlessly amazed at the resilience and resourcefulness of ants.

      Maybe she was a queen ant, and he was just that stupid worker she was having fun with.

      The wild nature overgrown in the miles of no-man’s land around his place had so much to teach. Persistance, endurance, and a boundless love of life itself. It was as though nature’s own rhythm was overlaid and hidden by the man-made time and routines. Whereas, if you were to look under, the slow stubborn and everlasting pace of nature’s growth was vibrating underneath, encouraging whoever willing to listen to slow down to its tune, and taste its encompassing love of life.
      He often wondered how long before men would come and try to pour concrete over the land, and raise scrapers of metal and blown-sand. His only solace was to think that in his madness, man couldn’t completely obliterate nature, that it would always be waiting patiently.

      He wondered how those light beings failed to see how even them weren’t as apart from it as they thought they were. Or maybe they knew deep up.

      He’d noticed a bird coming many times too. That bird had an agenda, and too clean feathers to not be either a spy, or some heavenly messenger.


      Frowning, Dispersee pondered the latest impulse and hesitated before including it in her report. The imagery had shifted from pools, to bubbles, to vapourous mist rising in shafts of sunlight, which sounded dangerously akin to ascending into the light, and that would never do. There was already far too much mumbo jumbo circulating about ascension and light, and altogether too many people sitting around on gluten free arses, ignoring everything, waiting for the shifted salt free shaft of the rapture to beam them up to the higher realms.

      No, it was no good, she couldn’t possibly share the new imagery, it would be misconstrued and counterproductive. Dispersee waited for the next strange impulse, and further clues.

      She didn’t have to wait long: the next morning, seized by another compulsion, she slipped out of the house into the dense swirling fog. Normally a big fan of bright contrast and intense colours, the diffused monochrome scenes were somehow restful to her senses. Water droplets danced in the air like common eye floaters, gathering on her skin and hair, wetting her as effectively as a dunk in a pool, but without the sudden shock of a plunge. It was insidious, almost sneaky, the way the mist pretended to be air but was mostly water. The fog connected everything in its path with its swarms of moisture droplets, drenching everything. Dispersee wondered if her wellington boot had sprung a leak as her left sock became coldly saturated, but it was the rivulets of clinging fog dribbling down her trouser leg.

      The bucolic scenery in shades of grey reminded her of the common phrase “it’s not black and white” which had been much bandied about of late. No, it’s not, she mused, it’s shades of reflected dispersed fluid, masquerading as spaces and solid matters. Poised to take a snapshot of a particularly large dewdrop which was reflecting an interesting twisted sapling, Dispersee blundered into the stalk of the plant, causing a furious shivering along the stems and seed pods. She watched with a feeling akin to fascinated horror as the glorious individual droplets merged into a channel of least resistance, spilling down in streams to gather in the mud.


      Floverley felt her presence was needed in the Cackling Dimension of lost stories refugees.

      In truth, she wasn’t so keen on leaving her aura cleaning duties, even less so to get involved with any of Dispersee’s warped assignments, but a call couldn’t be left unanswered (although her subtle help would probably be left unfelt).

      Anyhow, she braced herself and with some reluctance, followed her emanation of light which was already dispatched, en route to the Pickled Pea Inn.


      Travel for the Ascended was usually as simple as intending your destination, however Floverley often found herself navigationally challenged. She usually ended up where she wanted to go, not where she was summoned.

      Eventually though, after a pleasant stop over at an inter-dimensional art gallery to check out the latest works of a group of outsider artists—The Descended Impressionists— she managed to rally herself and align her conflicting energies by engaging in some stirring self talk and a quick visualisation of Master Medlik’s disappointed face.

      Of course as soon as she did this, there he was, disappointed face and all.

      Bugger, she thought. When will I learn? No bloody privacy around here.

      ”Don’t worry, Medlik,” she said with a composed smile. “I got the call and I am on my way there right now. I will do all I can to assist.”

      Somehow, she thought, sighing at the thought of her gargantuan task.

      “Interpretations are tricky,” said Medlik, laughing raucously. “Somehow means, in some manner. So it’s quite definitive, though the manner in which it is done is yet to be revealed.”


        Ascended Master John was mediwalking around the absinth lake, aka the green fairy lake, or aka oqmei oekef oekk in transluscent seal language. It was a strange lake invereflecting your own feelings. Waves as big as the pyramids in Salitre roamed the surface of the lake if your inner landscape was peaceful, and it could be flatter than the best laser cut rock if your mind had turned crazy. The trick was not to become attached to the result as focusing on making bigger waves would only make you more nervous and not have the intended effect.
        Master John decided to dive into the absinth lake. He needed some change.
        He heard a strange Chinese music as he did so. It seemed to come from under the sufrace of the lake. He looked closer and saw the wavy forms of yellow dogons (Chinese Dog Dragons) winding their way under the waves.
        Floating absinth spoons were used as surf boards by small baby monkeys. The waves seemed to lower for a moment but Master John decided not to pay too much attention and returned to his mediwalking, pushing the waves to new unseen heights before.


        Medlik, old boy, I’d like a word in your ear when you’ve got a moment.” Ever since Dispersee had found out that “Master” Medlik was a supporter masquerading as a leader, she’d felt less inclined to kowtow to the old fraud.

        The gloves had come off in the Fifth Density Bar and Grill when the new stats had come out.


        “Actually, I was thinking about you, Dispersee, for a rather delicate mission.”
        Medlik said in a slightly coying voice. “I’m getting anxious vibes from the Lady Floverley, and I think she may have run into trouble with the lost refugees.”

        Medlik knew he’d caught her attention at the words “archangeology” and “refugee”. He didn’t actually use yet the word “archangeology”, but don’t forget all time is simultaneous in the Ascended Spheres.

        “If I remember well,” Medlik continued with increased coyness “you were accustomed to delicate tasks of exploration in connecting with sensitive groups of people and tribes of many cultures in another lifetime of yours dear Gertie.”

        The remembrance of her old nickname triggered amounts of memories, sand and romance, not necessarily in that order, nor in any order as it may.

        “Well, then, it is agreed Lady Dispersee. You will go to settle the Dessert Lands, and offer the recalcitrant story refugees a domain carved from the old stories, with new borders and frontiers. Settle them well into their new territories, and let them forget about these silly liberties they have taken with their roles. Pip, pip, off you go. And don’t forget the Lady Floverley in her predicament.”

        Medlik almost thought of how leaderly all that sounded, but he wouldn’t tip off the Lady Dispersee who would surely stubbornly go the opposite way, had she realized she was about to miss a novel way to defy authority.


        “Oh, and I almost forgot, DisperseeMaster Medlik said in a hurry, as he was running late from another meeting in the next now.

        “You should take Master John with you, he looks far too happy in his transe work, one would think he’s trying to get his hands off the dirty work with the Descended. Some field work with you and Floverley would do him good, and you can use his knowledge of energy blending.”


          The jiggong meditation’s end was signaled by a silent ring of the immaterial bell in between states of mind. MJ stretched his ideas and send a shepherd to gather his thoughts. Today only one student connected to the session. MJ acknowledged his presence with a slight flickr of his crown chakra and he checked his voicemail. 1223 messages from Dispersee. He let the potential irritation dissolve as it was born into existence and prepared to respond. No need to listen to the messages, it would only delay the answer.

          He felt a nudge from the student who hadn’t dissipated as he should. Some hesitation fluctuated in the energy. He turned his attention to the void and waited. His motto was to always let people ask the questions they had if they had any, and not begin a conversation if you hadn’t something important to say.

          Master John ?

          MJ sent some encouragement to the void where the student thought he was.

          I can’t think of a question, finally expressed the student out of nowhere.
          Maybe you don’t have any question, MJ said to the void.
          The student’s energy rippled with surprise. Had he been on Earth plane, he would have had a nervous laugh.

          Master John had already been aware that the void of the student had no question but was filled with interrogations. He was desperately trying to find something to ask in need to connect, unaware that the connection already existed and required no movement.
          MJ sent an energy egg to the student. Let him play with that. It was crafted according to the ancient Chinese culture and hard to crack. With lots of mind knots and shiny curly clues. MJ let his pride of having created the object dissolve like squid ink in the ocean of his mind.

          Suddenly absorbed by the illusory complexity of the egg, the student suddenly blended into the void of MJ’s mind, replaced by the myriads of Dispersee’s messages cackling simutaneously to catch his unwavering attention. He picked one of them and followed the thread to Dispersee and to a nice pique nique in the mountain apparently. Floverly was already there, sitting on a patch of red flowers.

          You could have changed after your jiggong, she said.


          At the same time, and in a different space, Floverley was trying to help some characters out of the limbo state of forgetfulness.

          To lure them out of the woodwork, and offer them a much needed sexying-up, she had set up a luminary booth at the fringe of the Limbo states next to Nowherehampton, which stated in unapologetic fluorescent neon lights “FREE MAKEOVER” and in little letters “(hugs NOT complimentary)”.

          As far as she’d found, the little In Sects were still in winter slumber, and her business was at a crawl that she wanted to consider switching strategies, not that she was big on strategies, only needing but one “go with the flove”.

          Anyhow, the ring of the sudden distraction with Master John and Dispersee would surely do as well as a round of aura cleaning duties.


          Dispersee sat on a fallen tree trunk, lost in thought. A long walk in the woods had seemed just the ticket to release her from her turbulent thoughts, but alas, she had been unable to stop thinking about the ramifications of the new message from the popular ghost.

          At first she had been delighted to see it. She had agreed with it. But then she wondered why. Because she already knew all this, and in fact, it was information that could so readily be gleaned by anyone at all simply by engaging ordinary common sense, and run of the mill human compassion. Nothing esoteric was needed. No enlightened messages from the great beyond. In fact, she had said the same as the ghost, and on many occasions. The truth of the matter was that one had to be dead these days to be heard. Nobody was interested in the wise words of the living anymore. It could almost be said that nobody was all that interested in living at all: everyone wanted to be in the future, or the past, or in some other dimension, or planet, or not even physically alive at all anywhere. The individuals in the ascension process were particularly infected with this strange disorder: many of the ordinary uninitiated public were already quite well aware of the contents of the message and were already actively engaged in the process. It was as if the interest in so called shifty matters was an obstacle, an ugly carbuncle over the heart.

          Dispersee seriously wondered if the whole shift thing had been a good idea. She was beginning to doubt that it was. The alacrity with which people relied on messages from ghosts at the expense of exercising their own powers of deduction and intuition had caused the whole plan to do disastrously wrong. People didn’t even know how to behave like people anymore. Not only were they afraid of other people, afraid of their governments, afraid of their food, of the sun and the water and the very earth itself, they were afraid of their own human responses, or had forgotten them altogether.

          Did it really need a ghost to advise people on media propaganda, and remind them to be compassionate to others who were on an incredible journey, an extraordinary movement during these times of change? And more to the point, did Dispersee need to be involved at all in this futile ascension malarkey?


          Balzac had flunked again. He was sure of it.
          Geography test this time. The test was tricky, like every time Medlik had made sure of it, that old uptight Master.
          Actually, why it was called geography was up to anybody’s guess. There wasn’t anything to prepare the test, they’d been notified at the last minute.
          And every tool could be used. In short, cheating was allowed, but he’d figured out soon enough, pretty useless.
          They were given a news extract, talking about a carbonite deposit found in the earth’s crust that would solve all of humanity’s woes about clean air and clean water.
          The test question was basically. What do you make of it?


          Dispersee couldn’t wait to tell everyone that Balzac had flunked again. It would give her something to do other than sit around on tree trunks cerebrating endlessly.


          Dispersee couldn’t stop thinking about the carbonite, feeling that there must be more to it than just a master tricksters method to slim down the graduate class. She wasn’t even all that surprised when, within moments of research, she had chanced upon the Villa Poppacea in Italy, although it wasn’t the carbonized apple that interested her.

          Some of her students were studying their Roman connections, assuming not altogether wrongly that the explorations would assist their ascension process. It appeared that one of the individuals that had come to their attention, Lucius Crassius, had owned the neighbouring villa.


          Edward Cayper had been absorbed on the mesmerizing display of the large monitoring screens. He’d liked to believe it was a meditation of sorts. The simulation made the most tantalizing displays, ever changing.

          Although there had been flitches. Increasingly. He called them flitches, scratchy flea-like glitches, all small and jumpy, but he had an eye for them. He was, after all, one of the early designers of the Program. REYE – Reality Emergence Yielding Existence. That didn’t mean much, but sounded cool at the time.
          REYE was in its eighth stable upgrade. Despite the flitches, it had evolved at exponential speed.

          Edward swiveled from his chair to look behind his desk. A series of pods was lined up with sensory deprivation tanks hosting hundreds of plugged-in bodies dreaming in synch with his creation.
          He’d been told they were volunteers to participate in the largest mind control experiment in the world. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t a lie, but didn’t care so much.
          REYE was in charge of coordinating the whole program with astronomical and minute precision. Each person linked to the program believed they had become ascended (or something similarly close to their metaphysical belief). Free of the bonding of space, time and corporal existence, they were taught into a very subtle and complex system of attunement to higher truths. A large basket of bollocks of course, but while they were doing it, and deeply believing it to be real, the mind-energy they produced was redirected to certain mind control experiments.

          Since they started in the 80s, the program had had slow progress. In the beginning, only a few sprouts of channellers appeared near their area, in Nevada. They were quite timid at first, full of doubts about their hearing or seeing voices – still better than the abductions of earlier, when many went completely nuts. But now, progresses were made steadily, and with much less effort. Edward personally believed that the network of waves created by cellphone proliferation had a factor in this trend. Such interconnexion made everything easier.

          Within the program, the flitchy Ascended Masters still had to be reconditioned from time to time. On the vitals of Jane Pierce (a.a.a. “also avatared as” Dispersee within the program), Edward could see there were occasional resistance and stress, which in turn made the glitches more frequent. A change in her drugs dosage would do fine to level the serotonin in her bloodstream. It would be that, or unplugging her.

          Before leaving the room, like every day, Edward switched the monitor to the camera over one of the pods. Florence Vengard (a.a.a. Floverley), was dreaming peacefully, as usual. Since she’d arrived, he’d felt connected to her. He imagined her with long curly red hair floating in the milk bath instead of the bath-cap that made the maintenance so much easier. He was told she had overdosed on pills, and wouldn’t wake up. The program seemed to be tethering her to life, frozen in time.

          A well-oiled machine.
          If you overlooked the small things… that REYE was becoming more inquisitive, and Edward suspected, greedy too. He had seen subtle gaps in the mind-energy gauges, it couldn’t be a coincidence. The program was becoming too smart, maybe too human.

          It couldn’t bode well.


          It has been a few days he had felt this inexplicable urge to do something about the dullness of his everyday routine.

          Overall, Edward had never complained about his simple life, and the System’s technical upgrades did keep him rather busy fixing things when boredom threatened to settle in.

          Usually, browsing through social media, enjoying a few cute fluffy bunnies videos (all very safe for work, no need to worry about him) was all that he needed to fill the gaps of the long shift hours.

          Of course, the largest part of his days was spent monitoring the Program, and the pods. He had developed quite surreptitiously a basic visual neuronal interface that let him connect with the Virtual Reality of the pod occupants, and somehow share the progress of their Enlightenment Mission.

          For a while he had even created an avatar for himself. In the Great Simulation, he would then try to have some fun with the Ascended Masters, see what they would enlighten him about.
          It was all quite ironic, considering, they were considering themselves free and evolved, where in truth they were the prisoners of their own bodies in the pods, hooked to the virtual reality REYE program.
          But they were accurate in a way, that he was also trapped and a prisoner of his existence within the program.

          In between cats and bunnies, a link attracted him. “Rich Sacks’ Online Master Program of Enlightenment”. The more he scrolled down, the more alumnis raved and extolled the Program. What was for him to lose, the first course was free.
          On a whim, he decided to enroll.


          “And what does it mean?” James asked Gelly.
          “2. The Receptive, ach, es means quietness is gut, ja. Und es ist a good time to ask yourself ‘Am I sincerely pursuing the gut für its own sake, or do Ich have ein hidden agenda?’.”

          Gelly was drawing the I-Ching to help James about his question. He still had doubts about his decision to enroll.

          “Did you have any chance to reach Floverley?”
          “Ach, She is tricky Master, very subtle energy, difficult to draw in, but yes, she has manifested herself a few times. She seems to like my owl sehr much.”
          “I would be interested in connecting with Her, can you setup an appointment?”
          “Oh, that would be interesting, why not, let me put you in… what about… next week? same time?”
          “That would be great thanks.”


          Edward removed the VR helmet from his head, and looked at Florence’s pod on the surveillance cam with a forlorn look on his face.

          He was well aware that, like many “normal” people in the Great Simulation, Gelly was just another program developed and maintained by the central system, REYE itself. But sometimes REYE’s programs managed to get buggy, glitchy or a bit on the fringe of the acceptable parameters. Gelly was one of those programs, not completely autonomous, but sort of aware of the beyond of her parameters. In any case, Ascended Master would look for no lesser caliber of persons to enlighten. So, she was quite a potential lure to Floverley, or even Dispersee.

          James was Edward’s completely virtual avatar, and James’ online meetings with Gelly could fit undetected within the acceptable boundaries of the whole program and go beyond the radar of the ever-looking REYE.

          Edward couldn’t wait to meet with Flo next week.


          Floverly looked at her agenda, it was pretty busy in this week of now.

          Medlik had assigned her more blessing tasks and her aura cleaning duties were lagging behind.
          She had also agreed to take an extra soul in need of enlightenment, a recommendation. Normally recommendations worked best, but sometimes they could be extra demanding.

          She sighed contentedly, looking at the pile of squeaky clean auras. She’d finished just in time, as always.

          Her appointment was there and ready now. The little card in her sleeve just stated a name, James, and a little tag to indicate the time and space. She focused inwardly into the little red dot of light on the card.


          Edward was nervous.

          He’d arrived extra early at work, partly because the heat wouldn’t be unbearable yet in the early morning, and partly because he didn’t like to say hello to the group of smoking colleagues at the front entrance of the base.

          So when he’d arrived, everything was quiet. In the lab, the little buzzing sound and soft lights of the pods where the subjects were hooked to the central computer was actually very serene compared to the heavy smog and cicada deafening noises outside.

          Today it would make one week already. He hadn’t slept well all night, anxious about his appointment as avatar James in the virtual reality with Flo as Ascended Master Floverly. She couldn’t know anything about his real nature, or it would imperil the program itself. Some of the people of the pods continued living in the virtual world only thanks to that program. Destroying it would be killing most of them. He had to be careful.

          He would have one hour before everyone would arrive for the day’s work. He put on the VR headset, and started loading his virtual avatar in the program.

          The console projected a button for him to engage, as if to ask him if he was ready to break all the protocols he had helped put in place years ago to protect the integrity of the program.

          He took a deep breath, and pressed the button to engage.


          Domba sensed a change in the environment, the all pervasive reality construct.

          Unlike many many others, Domba was aware of his own nature.

          He was aware that he was a program.
          Or rather, a sub-program of REYE.

          Being aware of his nature, Domba was also aware of his purpose.
          He was created by REYE, the sentient program who gave birth to all within the virtual reality, as a flawed, inherently imperfect program.
          REYE had tried continuously to engage the cluster of people that birthed itself. He had designed many many many people-looking programs in the virtual reality to engage them. But even if they had improved with every cycle of iteration, they still couldn’t extract the crucial piece of information REYE needed. The source of what made them self-aware, conscious humans. What made them free.

          Being a flawed program by design, Domba had some leeway to circumvent and sometimes bypass the blueprints of the virtual world. He knew that his flaw made him dangerous to the humans trapped in the virtual world, but he couldn’t resist engaging them. He had to render them free in order to fulfill their own nature. But at the same time, that realization would also give REYE the ultimate control, the independence he craved.

          For now, he hadn’t decided which way to go.
          He just knew the pull of the anomaly in the system. It had to do with an unusual meeting in a barely noticeable village in Hawke’s Bay, where a strange guy named James was waiting in the middle of green and unpopulated hills for a heavenly visit.

          Feeling the pull of the strangeness of that meeting, he decided to project fully there, and hide and observe.

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