A View from the Other Side

Observations from the winged dude next door.

Archive for the tag “devas”

The First Message, Part 2

Okay, so where was I. Bethelda told Hodson in The First Message that physical instruments are crap at detecting our kind (with more elegant words), which is completely true, then he goes on to say that an intimate appreciation with nature is one of the best ways to do that.

Now, I know that Hodson was big into devas. He did a bunch of paintings of them over the years, wrote books, and so on. There’s a whole page on the splendors of nature and how you need to connect with the life spark of the world, feel yourself connected to the web of life, in order to find us better. Which is fine, there’s nothing wrong with that idea, as long as you’re looking for guides connected to nature. Originally most of the angels and archangels did have a connection to natural things, and still do. However, this is 2016. Some of us prefer rock music and TV shows, biker boots and pizza. If you’ve read American Gods, you understand the concept that modern times call for modern angels, or spirit guides, or gods, or loa, or whatever.

In fact, let’s take a second to think about the loa, who very much enjoy modern things. They like bourbon and cigars and sequins and all kinds of stuff from the local culture they’re in, from New Orleans, from Haiti, from Africa, and all the places they’ve traveled. Nobody questions this. So people shouldn’t go around making ultimatums about what my kind should or shouldn’t like or do or eat or wear. We have agency, we have lives, and if I want some Southern Comfort or to watch Captain America beat the shit out of Iron Man (possibly at the same time as the Southern Comfort), I’m going to do that and enjoy myself.

Anyway… next Bethelda says that in order to find us, you need to balance several important things, and do it well:

…[T]he enquiring mind of the scientist and the penetrating gaze of the seer must be added to the sensitiveness of the artist. The scientist must begin to learn where the artist leaves off… he will not lose in his self-realisation that clarity of mind, that exactitude of observation, which he so rightly prizes, but he will direct them from a new point of view. He must place his mind inside the tree, the plant, the animal, the element, the atom he would study; and to do this he must first follow the path of the artist and the poet, the philosopher and the metaphysician, combining the capacities of each within himself… Let him first gain the necessary technique of the laboratory and the text-book, and then, forsaking these for a time, let him meditate, preferably amid the beauties of nature, appealing to us for guidance and for aid. If he be sincere, knowledge will surely come to him.

The scientific method does not get thrown out here. It’s not about blind faith, or blind anything. Science is one of the tools in your kit to find us, and verify what you’re experiencing. This is extremely important to me, and we use it all the time. We measure, and repeat experiments, and do blind questioning of others, careful not to use leading questions. If I’m at someone’s house, and they say they smelled something unusual, we ask what it was… and that’s all. No hints, no leading questions. Nearly every time the person gets my cologne exactly right, even when I change my mind at the last second and switch to something else that they don’t even know I own. I think the descriptions that have been a little off is due to the person either not knowing what they’re smelling at all (like people who don’t know the difference between sandalwood and gardenias), or describing it poorly, or their nose isn’t that good, or it’s competing with cigarettes or pets or other smells in the house.

I could go on all night about all the times I’ve spoken into those “ghost boxes” and been heard, or a psychic saw me on a ghost hunt and addressed me by my name, or I’ve made storms do what I want, which you can watch happen real-time on moving storm radar images. Science. But don’t use ONLY science, and use the appropriate tools to measure with. Don’t try to use a scale to weigh air, don’t try to use a teaspoon to measure electric current. The tools you need may not even exist yet, so that’s when you use the other parts of your mind, as Bethelda says above.

Out of time again. There’s more to come in this chapter.


Tour Through the Angels, Continued

When we last left Geoffrey Hodson and his description of the various kinds of angels, we were on Angels of Power. So let’s pick up with The Angels of the Healing Art and continue from there.

Naturally the head of the group is the archangel Raphael, and he says that they stand ready to help, and manage to help the few who allow them in, but apparently humankind puts up barriers to their help. Or something. Which I have a huge problem with, because this turns into cultural superiority really fast when you consider things like African famines, and victim-blaming when people die of terrible things like lymphoma. “If they had just let the healing angels into their hearts and not blocked them from helping….”

Stop right the fuck there. Full stop.

You cannot tell me that some little child in some third world country dying of some horrible disease that Westerners don’t even know exists would be saved if only they would stop cock-blocking their healing angel.

No. Helping people does not work like that. A nurse doesn’t check your credentials at the door when you’ve been shot, a health care worker doesn’t ask what religion you are if you’re infested with parasites in Uganda. The love of an angel is unconditional. The healing help of an angel is unconditional. Period. The gating factor is not some bullshit Christian “if you don’t love me enough, I’ll just leave you to die” concept, it’s that sometimes shitty things just happen in the world, even to the best of people, because it’s an incredibly complex system with not enough of us to go around, but a seemingly endless supply of human cruelty.

End rant.

The Guardian Angels of the Home. This section was of much more interest to me.

“The Guardian Angels love the homely ways of men, they desire to share the hours of labour and of ease; they love children and their play, and all the men’s homes, keeping away all influences of danger and of strife, of darkness and disease.”

He’s falling into the trap of favoritism again, because no, I cannot keep my avatar’s home free of all danger, strife, and disease. Shit happens. I can warn people, I can divert a lot of problems, I can try and minimize pain, but if she’s got a stomach flu, well, that’s unfortunately got to run its course a bit. I suck at viruses. It’s not my department. However, I do very much enjoy sensory physical things like wine, or scented soap, or a good pair of boots. And I can control things which are in my department, such as the weather.

The Angels Who Build. This was another interesting section. Again, I don’t agree with everything he says about it, like that there are “graded orders,” but he said that some of them even “build the outer forms of angels,” along with people, gems, trees, animals, and so on. I thought that was very interesting and related to me personally, not having my original paint job as I do. Then there’s a whole bunch in there about how the pain of childbirth for women would be eliminated if only they would open up to blahblahblah the same bullshit as above, ignore all that.

The Angels of Nature. Devas, basically. Fairies, sylphs, all that, they hang around trees and rocks. Got it.

The Angels of Music. This is a very long section of this chapter, and it’s really very nice. It talks about how all sound is basically the Divine Song.

“Every sound you hear on earth is an echo of His Voice… You cannot call these angels into the lowest self; to see and hear them you must rise towards their world… They are in need of human ears and human hearts, that through them they may bring our world in tune, that men may answer ever more and more to the sound and rhythm of their song.”

The Angels of Beauty and Art. Basically, everything is a reflection of the Divine, and is always being shaped to become more beautiful.

“Every time a man aspires towards the Beautiful, and tries to model, paint, or draw according to the highest he can see, he makes himself akin to the angels of the Hand of God; for a time their rhythm becomes his.”

This is the same for anything creative that’s inspired by the Divine, whether the person creating it knows it or not. Writers can hear Truths and then translate that to the page. People making religious objects or jewelry or woodcarvings or music or any other thing that works with the creative part of their mind is at least partly tapped into this Divine spark.

“Beauty is not born, nor can it die, it is eternal.”

That’s a nice way to end Chapter 1 of The Brotherhood of Angels and Men, and this post.

The Non-Hierarchy of Angels

I’ve been asked to talk about the hierarchy of angels, if there is one. Well… keep in mind that this is just what I know about it from my experiences, and others may experience other things. I’m not omniscient, I just work here—I don’t get shown everything.

There kind of isn’t one… and there kind of is.

Throw out that stupid thing some bored priests came up with however many hundreds of years ago. The “nine choirs” or whatever they call it. People need to put labels on things and put them in neat little boxes, that’s all that is.

It’s more like “power levels” than some kind of tidy filing cabinet drawers. There’s somebody like me, who hangs out on Earth with you guys, helping people, walking around in meatsuits sometimes, usually invisible but around more than you realize. There’s probably millions of us, with different names in different cultures. Angels, devas, guardians, guides, djab lwa, whatever label you like best.

Then there’s bigger guys, and I literally mean bigger. Like I only barely come up to their chest, and they’re a lot more powerful and closer to the Source. From this level up, I never get to see their faces. Often they won’t even let me look or give any indication of identity beyond general features and sometimes gender. I have no idea if this group has a specific name, they just “are,” and there’s a lot of them. Tens of thousands, maybe.

The archangels fall somewhere in there, but they’re interesting because sometimes they can walk beside you like a human, and sometimes they’re even more powerful and badass than the big guys I just mentioned. They’re a lot like the major vodou lwa, or the different gods of different places like Thor and Brigid and… whoever else. I’m not up on world mythology much, sorry.

Then there’s the ones that are right next to the Source. They’re so close that they almost never directly contact human beings and are pretty much made of Light. I capitalize Light here so you know it’s not the same kind of light as when you turn on a lamp. This is The Light, like the energy and power and love of what most people would call God. I prefer “the Source” over the word “God” because it’s the thing that just is, without the boxes religion tries to put on it. You can’t ever put this in a box, you can’t ever give it a name. It’s… impossible to describe, really.

So I guess there’s four major kinds of angels that I know of? And “angels” is just another convenient label too. We don’t all have wings, we aren’t all white people, we’re not all inside the Judeo-Christian thing. Do me a favor and bust out of those boxes. They’re too small to ever hold all this.

Nature Devas

Devas as seen by Geoffrey Hodson

Devas as seen and illustrated by Geoffrey Hodson

Excerpt from Chapter XI of Fragrant & Radiant Healing Symphony by Roland Hunt:

“The Universal Mind, new-found by modern scientist, well-known by scientists of old, finds beautiful embodiment I many forms of nature-spirit life,” says Geoffrey Hodson. “Landscape angels, tree nymphs, water sprites, deva-elementals, and little men dwell in the remoter countryside, in great numbers—their kingdom is very near to the kingdom of man, and the veil behind which Nature hides her loveliness is but the faintest film through which Her enchanting beauty may be seen”

From the Nature devas, Mr. Hodson has received inspiration to write many books, and also from a loftier source, have come angel teachers who have told of the relationship between angels and men, described their companionship in olden days and foretold its return.

These ideas, no doubt, appear entirely fantastic to those without experience of super-physical consciousness or intuitive perceptions of the hidden life in Nature, and such a perceiver may be regarded as a victim of delusion, yet since he believes the experiences have a rightful place in the story of the evolution of human consciousness from the physical to spiritual awareness and the ideas themselves to be worthy of consideration, Mr. Hodson gladly submits to the possible charge of delusion in order to present both experiences and ideas.

Bright Messenger

Archangel ChamuelThe below is another excerpt from Fragrant & Radiant Healing Symphony by Roland Hunt:

“Again, in so-called works of fiction there are to be found beautiful and most vivid descriptions which, in their truth and wealth of detail, speak of authoritative experience, entirely transcending the powers of imagination. Thus the well-known novelist Algernon Blackwood in his Bright Messenger describes the experiences of one who has mingled with the Devas that inhabit the “Nature” Kingdom:

“The stream of life pouring through him became more and more intense; some power of perception seemed growing into white heat within him; transcending the limited senses; becoming incandescent. This tide of sound, inaudible to ordinary ears, was the music which is inseparable from the rhythm that underlies all forms, the music of the world’s manifold activities now pouring in vibrations huge and tiny all around and through him…

“The figure was still definite enough in form indeed, yet at the same time taking the rays into itself as thought it were a body of light. The sunshine filled the air, the space all around him, the entire lawn and garden shone in a sparkling flood of dancing brilliance. It blazed. The figure was merely a portion of this blazing, As a focus, but one of many. And about each focus was the toss and fling of lovely, ever-rising spirals.

“Across the main stream came another pulsing movement, hardly discernible at first, and similar to an underswell that moves the sea against the waves—so that the eye perceives it only when not looking for it. This contrary motion went in numerous, almost countless, directions, within and below its complicated wave-tracery. There were yet other motions, crossing and interlacing at various speeds, until the space about him seemed to whirl with myriad rhythms, yet without the least confusion. These rhythms were of a hundred different magnitudes, from the very tiny to the gigantic, and while the smallest were of a radiant brilliance that made our sunshine pale, the larger ones seemed distant, their light of an intenser quality. These were strangely diffused—these bigger ones—’distant’ was the word that occurred to him, although that inner brilliance which occurs in dreams, the nameless glow that colours mental visions better describes them. Moreover, they wore colours human eyes had never seen, while the smallest rhythms were lit with the familiar colors of the prism…

“He suddenly became conscious of a pattern forming before his eyes, hanging in empty space, shining, soft with light and beauty. It became, he saw, a geometric design. An idea of crystals, frost-forms, a spider’s web hung with glistening dewdrops shot across his memory. The spirals whirled and sang about it.

“this outline, he next perceived, was the focus to which the light, heat, colour, all contributed their particular touch and quality. It glowed now in the centre of the vortex. So overwhelming, however, was the sense of stupendous power involved that, as he phrased it afterwards, it seemed he watched the formation of some mighty sun. It was the whirling of those billion-miled sheets of incandescent fires that attend the birth of a nebula that he watched. The power, at any rate, was gigantic.

“He stood trembling before a revelation that left him lost, shelterless, bereft of any help that his little self might summon—when, suddenly, with an emotion of strange tenderness, he saw the great rhythms become completely dominated by the very smallest of all. The same instant the pattern grew sharply outlined, perfect in every detail, as though the focus of powerful glasses cleared—and the pattern hung a moment exquisitely fashioned in space beneath his eyes before it sank slowly to the ground. It remained in an upright position on the grass at his feet—a daisy, growing in the earth, alive, its tiny delicate face taking the sunlight and the morning wind…

“He could not differentiate the figures from the ever-moving sea of light that filled space wherever he looked. The same play of brilliance shone and glistened everywhere, whirling, ever shifting as in vortices of intricate geometrical designs, dancing, interpenetrating, and with a magnificence of colour that caught his breath away. There were remarkable flashings, and two of these flashings blazed suddenly together forming an immense physiognomy, an expression, rather, as of a mighty face. The same instant there were a hundred of these mighty brilliant visages that pierced through the sea of whirling colour and gazed upon him, close, majestic, with a power and beauty that left thought without a ghost of language to describe them.”

Once again the author describes Dr. Fillery’s contacts with the devas:

“Across the rising upland swept a keen fresh morning wind. Yet bare they were not, this rising upland and this hill. As far as he could see the landscape flowed waist-deep in flowers, whose fragrance lay upon the air; dew trembled, shimmering upon a million petals of blue and gold, of orange, purple, violet; the very atmosphere seemed painted yet vibrant with continuous gentle rhythm as though the actual scenery poured forth its being in spontaneous, natural expression of sound, as well as of form and colour. It was the simplest, happiest music he had ever heard.

“Unable to deal with the rapture of delight that swept upon him, he stood stock still among the blossoms to his waist. Eyes ears, and nostrils were inadequate to report a beauty which, simple though it was, overbore nerves and senses accustomed to a lesser scale. Horizons indeed had lifted, the joy and confidence of fuller life poured in. His own being grew immense, stretched, widened, deepened, till it seemed to include all space. He was everywhere, or rather everything was happening all at once… In place of the heavy suburb lay this garden of primal beauty, while yet, in a sense, the suburb itself remained as well. Only—it had flowered… revealing the subconscious soul the bricks and pavement hid… its potential self had blossomed into loveliness and wonder…

“The sound drew nearer. He was aware of movement. Figures were approaching; they were coming in his direction, coming towards him over the crest of the hill, nearer and nearer; concealed by the forest of tall flowers he watched them come, yet as Presences he perceived them, rather than as figures, already borrowing power from them, as sails borrow from a rising wind. His consciousness expanded marvellously, to let them in.

“Their stature was conveyed to him, chiefly, at first, by the fact that these flowers, though rising to his own waist, did not cover the feet of them, yet that the flowers in the immediate line of their advance still swayed and nodded, as though no weight had lain upon their brilliance. The footsteps were of wind, the figures light as air; they shone; their radiant presences lit the acres. Their own atmosphere, too, came with them, as though the landscape moved and travelled with and in their being, as though the flowers, the natural beauty, emanated from them. The landscape was their atmosphere. They created, brought it with them. It seemed they ‘expressed’ the landscape and ‘were’ the scenery, with all its multitudinous forms.

“They approached with great and easy speed that was not measurable. Over the crest of the living, sunlit hill they poured, with their bulk, their speed, their majest, their sweet brimming joy. He stood motionless watching them, his own joy and worship mastered the final trace of fear.

“Though he perceived these figures first as they topped the skyline, he was aware that great space also stretched behind them, and that this immense perspective was, in some way, appropriate to their appearance. Born of greater space than his ‘mind’ could understand, they flowed towards him across that windy crest and at the same time from infinitely far beyond it. Above the continuous humming sound, he heard their music too, faint but mighty, filling the air with deep vibrations that seemed the natural expression of their joyful beings. Each figure was a chord, yet all combining in a single harmony that had volume without loudness. It seemed to him that their sound, their colour, and movement wove a new pattern upon space, a new outline, form or growth, perhaps a flower, a tree, perhaps a planet… They were creative. They expressed themselves in a million forms.”

Then again Mr. Blackwood makes Dr. Fillery say:

“I hummed again, but this time with my lips closed. The waves of rhythm caught me up and away. I soared and flew and dropped and rose again upon their huge coloured crests. Curtains and sheets of quiet flame in palest gold flared shimmering through the sound, while winds that were full of hurricanes and cyclones swept down to lift the fire and dance with it in spirals. The perfume of great flowers rose. There were flowers everywhere, and stars shone through it all like showers of gold. Ah! I began to remember something. It was flowers and stars as well as human forms they worked to build…”

Sounds of the Universe

rainbow spheres

This is an account of what one student with the AMICA institute experienced. He seems to have literally woken up one morning, able to perceive the Music of the Spheres. From Fragrant & Radiant Healing Symphony by Roland Hunt:

“It was in the Spring of 1934 when I first heard the wonderful Sounds of the Universe. One night with my mind uplifted to God, I fell asleep, desiring only God and Truth. In the early morning I awakened and sat up listening intently, my mind concentrated on listening. No sound came and so I fell asleep again wondering why such a thing should happen. The next day while out on my bicycle riding between St. Annes-on-Sea and Blackpool—not a quiet place—I became aware of a lovely humming of all life—everything in all directions was humming and singing happily. I began to realise that everything was filled with music. The workmen I saw and heard in the distance sent out notes of music with their tools and hammers instead of the ugly sounds and bangs. I was filled with joy unspeakable to hear such things. A car came along and drew up with a flourish of trumpets, and the engine played some lovely tune. I listened in amazement, wondering if anyone else could hear the same things. But alas! They could not and so I had to keep the glorious truth to myself: that Music and Joy fills all space. I saw two lovers coming along the road and I heard them speak, but instead of hearing their Lancashire speech I heard beautiful voices.

“It was all a radiation of Joy, Harmony, and Love. How gloriously happy I was. No note of discord could find a place in me. On another occasion I entered a bus. As soon as the engine started the music began to play loudly above all the music and chatter of the people. Wherever I went there was music. When going to sleep at night I began to hear music in the heavens and later choirs of heavenly music and voices. I could hear Mass being sun and chanted and great bells ringing. I know the are going on without end.

“I heard the Music of the Spheres although until then I knew nothing of such things. Now I know I have been given music direct and spiritually.

“The Music of the Spheres became so loud that I had to pray for it to quieten down, for I had no one to advise me about such matters.

“As I lay down to sleep one night, I felt a swishing sensation and saw a beam of light. It was pale gold and felt like a searchlight. It was beginning to tune in to the Spheres.

“I heard the sons and daughters of God shouting for joy above the earth clouds. I almost jumped off the earth for joy myself when I first heard them. I would gladly have joined them and at that time wondered how I could remain on the earth.

“Some years ago I came to live in Newquay, Cornwall, and during the years I was greatly blessed as the beloved Music continued. Sometimes, to keep what I had found, I had to leave my home suddenly and go ou of doors to some quiet spot.

“On the sand dunes near Perranporth, in the great silence, where the lost church of St. Piron is said to be, the sounds were glorious and I could hardly bear to leave. Waking by the sea I have heard hundreds of violins playing heavenly music and again a great harp, the Harp of God, the lovely notes going, as it were, across the Universe. I loved the wind, for when it was rushing about I could hear the planets clearer than ever resounding on their pathway, and great trumpets would flourish as they passed by my window, as it seemed, along with the wind.

“As I lay listening and loving it all so much, I heard St. Michael and His Angels playing on trumpets and beating drums, fighting the spiritual battle which the world refuses to see and understand.

“I know by all this blessedness that I am only on earth to worship God and serve others in the highest sense. I have never taken any breathing exercises, but without knowing of special breathing, I knew I was breathing the Breath of God and breathed the harmony of all these things into my entire being, and I now desire to be further purified and suppose it must always continue for I know now that this purging process is essential and most necessary… and such remains my prayer.”

Excerpt: Angels and the New Race

healing angel raphaelAn excerpt from the book “Angels and the New Race” by Geoffrey Hodson, 1929. I disagree with a number of Hodson’s points and observations, including that angels are perfect and can be neatly categorized like different species of bugs or library books. However, much of what he has to say is very accurate, such as the passages I’ve copied below:

In order that we may understand and eventually provide these conditions, it is essential that we should possess knowledge of our own inner constitution, and of the purpose behind the existence of the human and angelic branches of the family of God. Let us, therefore, define the terms “man” and “angel.” By “man” we mean a divine and immortal being who uses a material and mortal body, in and through which to work and to grow. The purpose of his life in this body is simply that he may grow, for, as a result of the experience which he gains through it, he will ultimately reach perfection. In other words, the reason for his existence here is that he may become perfect, even as his Father heaven is perfect. All the sorrows, the joys, the experiences of life are designed to lead him to this goal of ultimate perfection.

The angels are also evolving beings who are growing towards a standard of perfection. They are our fellow citizens upon this planet and in this solar system. We may think of them as our less material brethren, born of the same Parent, divine in their origin as we are divine, and traveling towards the same goal, which is union with God and perfect manifestation of divine attributes. When Jacob, at Bethel, dreamed of a ladder from earth to heaven, and the angels of God descending and ascending thereon, he had a true vision of the angelic evolution.

Angels differ from ourselves in many characteristics, the chief of which is that they do not have a physical body, and are therefore, normally, invisible to us. The matter of which their bodies are formed is more subtle than that which forms our own. Its vibrations are beyond the visible spectrum, and therefore our eyes cannot respond to them. We have other eyes, however, with which it is possible for us to see them the eyes of the soul. If we will but open our inner eyes, our angel companions will become visible to us, and we shall see them face to face, for they are everywhere present; the air about us is full of unseen beings of many races and degrees.

What are they like? Although they have no physical body, they certainly have a bodily existence. Their forms, however, are creations of light, or rather, of material which is self luminous, for every atom of their bodies, as also of the world in which they dwell, is a glowing particle of light. The form they use closely resembles our own; is, in fact, built upon the same model as the human form. Fairies and angels generally appear as very beautiful, ethereal human beings. Their faces, however, wear an expression which is definitely nonhuman, for they are stamped with an impression of dynamic energy, of vividness of consciousness and life, with a certain remarkable beauty, and an “other-worldliness” which is rarely seen among men. For these reasons the peoples of the East have always called them “devas,” which means “shining ones.”

The appearance of the angels is always remarkable to human vision, on account of the continual play of energy in and through their bodies and their glowing auras. They may be thought of as agents for, or even engineers of, the fundamental forces of nature. The powers which they control and manipulate are continually radiating from them, producing, as they flow, a continuous appearance of miniature “northern lights.”

As history ever repeats itself, we may safely expect that, in the cycle of human life that is now opening, angels will once more walk and work with men. Already that spirit of unity and brotherhood which, despite our apparent separateness, is silently but steadily influencing our lives and times, is drawing together the human and angelic branches of the family of God. The labors of birth are surely drawing to a close. Mother Earth is even now being delivered of her youngest child; the new race is appearing, and the new civilization being built. No single continent will nurture the growing child, for the new race will people the whole earth. The birth and dwelling place of the children of the coming age will be of little moment, for they will be citizens of the world. Their glowing eyes will pierce the differences of color and of race, for, in their hearts, they will know mankind as one.

The time is ripe, therefore, to re-establish on earth the brotherhood of angels and of men. It is well that we should labor in this cause. Let us, then, consider the means whereby this may best be done.

Men imbued with profoundly altruistic motives must be the pioneers in this important work. The ideal of service must become the ruling motive of the lives of those who would safely invoke the powerful forces of nature, and their appropriate intelligences, in the service of the world. Without this essential but unfailing safeguard, failure is certain; for both moral and physical danger threatens those who violate the sanctuaries of Nature for purposes of selfish gain. Into this grave danger our ancient forebears fell; the ruins of their cities are the silent witnesses of their transgression. Silent only to those whose ears are deaf; eloquent, indeed, to those who have ears to hear!

Let us hear then, and, hearing, obey, that we may avoid the ruin into which they fell. All those who are engaged in work for the amelioration of human conditions, in whatsoever department of life, may safely invoke the aid of the mighty races of the angelic hosts. An increase in vitality, virility, and effectiveness, beyond all human commensuration, will most certainly result from this invocation. The work will become almost infinitely far-reaching, for it will be performed in spiritual, mental, and moral regions, as well as in the purely physical world, and we shall have the angels as agents and co-workers there to inspire and strengthen all our efforts by their wisdom and their resistless power and their love. This earth of ours is but a shadow of the reality of those deeper realms of existence wherein the eternal verities find their full expression, unsullied by the materiality of this earthly plane.

We have been placed in these terrestrial realms to work and to evolve, and, whilst we remain, it is here that our labors must be performed. We may, however, enormously increase their effectiveness and the rapidity of our own growth by linking ourselves with the powers and presences of the inner worlds, which, though invisible, are all about us. Our eyes will gradually be opened to the light of those worlds, and their denizens will lend us their aid and their guidance in the long pilgrimage which we have undertaken. And, as I have said, they will add their strength and their knowledge to our efforts to help less fortunate brethren, to relieve suffering, and to heal disease.

Everywhere about us there are ignorance, suffering, and disease. Everywhere, also, there is appearing a growing idealism. Increasing numbers of men and women are devoting themselves to the task of dispelling ignorance and of alleviating pain, and to the solution of the many pressing problems of social reform. These servers, in every walk of life, may rightly demand, and will certainly obtain, the powerful aid of the angelic hosts.

The time will surely come when it may be said, as of old, “angels walked with men,” for the blending of angelic and human life and consciousness is part of the plan for the coming age. The children of the new race will see and recognize their fairy and angel companions; will play and work with them instinctively. Let no one seek to dull their clearer vision by denial of the fairer world and its inhabitants which their young eyes can see. Rather let the elders train themselves to see and feel, with them, the beauties and the joys that lie outside the range of vision of the older race.

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