My life path
I
I, a man with a talent, a talent and a calling. I was called upon from the day of Birth. I was called for a life-path by the inner voice that I felt, but did not recognize yet. Slowly the experiences became bacons that led to the path, my path. There were the nightmares, and the devil, always the devil. The search through the religions, faith, doubts, images, lost images, Christ and his Brothers. The full moon and the graveyard hill in the woods. Many books I did not read about it, some fragments, when they crossed my eyes. When I was young I read the old tales from the Roman and the Greek, later, the North American natives, and always Stephen King. His books I read as if I had written down my own dreams. The dark had become familiar, when I conquered the last dark illusion, the final invitation to come with him, with It. No, I would not go with It, I would never go with It. I was about forty years when that happened.
Later in my life, I didn’t want to read about those things also, the necessity had passed. It was in me, had always been there. It only has cost a lot to let it in without losing myself, without becoming possessed by it. I was tested but also protected, then, when I yet did not fully acknowledge. And when that happened, things accelerated and intensified. The first meetings came, the real visions, the meaningful visions. Those came who wanted to do me good, the true, the true in me, the True Being.
The True Being is explained in a number of my books. It is about the true being of things, mater, the true being of man, the man with a soul. The soul is the core of man. The process of binding of the soul to the man is the first step to the true being. When the soul is given the power to take charge over the life en the karma man starts to live in the true being.
I walked to this point in my life. With ups and downs, of course. And with side-roads and confusions, disillusions. Man is supposed to survive, to live like man, like a man, whether he likes it or not.
My growth
More than ten years I have visited meetings and was a regular individual guest with the same spiritual guide. A woman I met through friends. They took me to one of her meetings one time. Much I have learned, much I have learned myself. One day I asked her a question. Is it possible for me to lay prayers in candles. Possible it was; and a ritual followed. I still remember that happening, it felt very sacred, full of love, the Divine love. From that day on of my tasks started. After many years the contact stopped. The path I learned to walk became too different from hers. A few years ago she passes away. I went to her funeral and, standing at her grave, there was a tremendous power. It was a vacuum that pulled her and me together out of darkness, into darkness. A deep silence was all around. All visitors must have felt it. When I stepped backward they all looked at me surprised, with questioning eyes.
With the candle ritual I have helped people. With prayer and meditation I put signs on the candles, put spelling powers within, to break blockades, give explanations and advices. I gave it to people with heavy pain, soul pain, lost memories, and traumas. It starts with a question, a conversation, a confession. And with the talking memories come to the surface, pain and grief. Often it is the first time they tell their story. And by telling it is shared, a revelation and a liberation on itself.
They told me that I am so called clairvoyant, I feel what people feel, deep within, I hear what people hear, what souls whisper, the heritance of Prophets. Many more was said. I all accepted it as for that moment.
In the ancient German city of Trier I went to prayer in the cathedral. When I entered a large Bible was opened at the book Jesaja. It was written about a discussion of Jesaja with other prophets. They doubted his prophetical skills, and Jesaja answered: “A true prophet is measured by the out comings of his prophecies. When after the time of forecasted happenings his prophecies have proved to be true he is the true prophet in the Light of God.”
I leave that what is said about my skills for what they are. It makes me happy when things I have heard, said and done have proved to be true and have done well to others.
The Par-na-val
I went on a journey, on many journeys, besides churches and holy places. More visions came, more images of that what is not visible, but still is. I had not put it in order yet, not connected yet. But there was a connection. Spirits and saints, they where waiting, where awaiting.
Meditating on a hill of sand it really had started, the visions and the words. Images about a new world, the green world. Words came, words about the old, our world, worlds before ours, and the new, coming world. It was about the time in which we live, the time of transformation to a new world. Bandira it is called, the tide of change. Bandira means banners. In other books I wrote the name Trilim-bas, the dying, transformation and birth of a people.
I was given a name, Parnaval, the traveler, the pilgrim, the listener. “He who listens to the last of touchables”. In this life, in this world, in the past, in the future, in many lives.
The Books
And then the church came, the chapel in the church. My prayer turned in a kind of half-sleep from which I awakened. I was filled with something, with a big flow of information. At my next visit the flow was transformed into images, images about the book, The Book. “Forty pillars caries the Book, forty pillars of the Temple of God”.
The images became words and the words became books. It became Books for our people, our history and our being, books for the later, for a new world and a new man. The language is old, as old as the sender and as old as the receiver in me. And there is the language of languages. It contains many elements of the ancient Sanskrit. The language was translated with every word and sentence. Together these books form a sort of old and new testament.
The inspiration, the transmission, was continuing. There came a book for me, for all my questions. Who am I? What am I? What do I have to do in this world?
The book I am working on is called: “The Book of Prophets”. And after this book there will be one book to go, the last book: The Book Preacher.
Am I a prophet? I write down stories of the past, the present and the future. There are predictive stories and stories that tell about past events, past people, past worlds. It are stories that are not known to me from other sources than the ears and the voice within me. Am I a prophet? “They” call me a listener, they, whom they call there selves “The last touchables” of our world, maybe they are saints and prophets of the past.
The world of the souls
I have seen spirits, entities, energies. I did not only see it, them, there was contact too. It was two ways, I was being looked at too. I was part of it, belonged to it. At least I was a spectator. I new that I was at the “other side”, and “they” knew it too. I have learned a lot through the information that they gave. I learned to see more, to see better, “the Other Side”, ‘the Other Sides”. There are gates to the others sides, there are spheres, chambers, spaces. There are stilled pasts in which souls are waiting; but not only waiting. There are souls that are there to give life to the past, the mater of the past. They are there to give “soul” to that what happened in our world. There are waiters and witnesses.
The Great Works
In me there is the turn. The turn of all I have done in my life, in this world, in the mater. And the turn of what I have experienced in the other world, the not visible. The turn of the emphasis, the main point has moved, the base, the roots of my existence, from here to there.
The visions came in the year 2001, the continuing inspiration, and after that, the Great Book.
From the year of 2004 another Great Work was presented to me. It started with a travel to the German city of Magdeburg. Then, I did not know that it was the start of a big journey. It was the start of a journey of my soul, to the past of before my birth. Six years I traveled, each summer a month, from “Westerbork” to “Buchenwald”, from Nürnberg to Auschwitz, a travel to and through the “Holocaust”. I went there to pray, to set free, to suffer with, to memorize. I did it for the souls, the souls of the victims of the camps, those that were still there, those who still are. Bit I too did it for myself, my own soul, my own liberation, my own suffering, the encounter with myself, with my own soul.
The Book I wrote about is called: “Waiting for the Hell” or “Where is small Misha?” It is a story of a travel, a travel in the past, in their and my past, a travel of darkness, fear, grief and tears. The book has many self made photographs and sketches.
The Kri-mo-tasj
On the border of life there are waiters, gate waiters, gate waiters to a next phase of the journey of the soul. Man has a fate, man is fatal. The fate is carried by the soul. It is a load, a burden. It is also called karma. The fate gives the direction of the next being. The waiters came in my life as the three lords dressed in black. The lords brought me something, a title, a title for a calling and a work. It is called the Kri-mo-tasj or The Salvatore of the Heritance. I am allowed to lighten, to relieve, to take away load, burden, the heritance of the deeds. I am called a ‘tri-ko-dar’, he who three dying not in the flesh. It means that my soul has three times a rebirth in this lifetime.
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