Chapter 8: Mortimer, Merlin, and Master Morya

October 2013
The Sunny Shack * Austin, Texas

Running parallel to this infusion of serpent energy, I became aware of the name of the tall, thin Indian friend who had been with me in on the vibrating island, and when I sensed into it, I felt his presence in India had not been the first. Before I can take you forward, I have to take you back to October 8, 2013. It was three days prior to the energy releasing in the base of my spine in the dark yoga class, and that was certainly no coincidence.

Knowing I was devastated after my father’s death and the collapse of my marriage, a longtime girlfriend of mine, Alison, recommended I speak with a medium named Lori. Lori was the family friend of Alison’s good friend. She had the gift of being able to talk to those who had crossed over or left the physical body. In other words, she saw and spoke with dead people. It took me months to get on her busy schedule, and finally the day arrived. We held the meeting on Skype.

I’ll admit I was skeptical of this Lori woman and careful not to give her too much background information as a test to see if she was really, in fact, able to communicate with my father. I’d visited with my dad in a dream in January, eight months prior, after pleading with him for help on one of the worst days in my marriage. Afterward, I felt his presence intensely. A few times I saw a white orb hovering around me, but I felt blocked in being able to communicate with him. My human brain still had muscle and continued to place doubt in the ability to see, feel, and know beyond the five basic human senses.

The medium started out our Skype session by welcoming my angels to appear. Immediately, she informed me my father was present, as was my great-grandmother Helen, whom I’d never physically met in this life but who had been close to my mother as a child. She was the mother of my maternal grandfather, Spud. Finally, there was a third being who introduced himself as El Morya. When Lori said his name, I felt a tingle shoot up my spine. In my third eye, I saw a man with a thin face, dark beard, and large brown eyes. His energy felt entirely different from my dad’s and Helen’s, who were chatting with me in the near-Earth realms. They felt human; he felt wise, expanded. My intuition allowed me to trust him instantly, and I was excited with what he had to share with me.

My father had much to say as usual. He cleared up some details around his death, such as why Nell, his wife, had acted the way she had in the weeks after his memorial service. Dealing with her and her family had been a total nightmare. My dad indicated that outside forces out of her control strongly influenced her behavior, something I understood all too well. I forgave her and myself for reacting so poorly and would call her in the next few days to make amends. My dad sounded so much like himself, and Lori indicated as she translated his words that he talked with his hands in broad gestures. My doubts about her ability to communicate with him completely faded away. Additionally, I felt his unconditional love wash over me like it had in his physical presence. It was a specific sensation, like his love for me had its own frequency on the radio dial, and I knew it was him.

The medium explained to me that my dad had one foot in this world and one in the spirit world, and he was laying stones for me. He would be traveling with me to Peru, where I was headed in November. Also, for the past month, a blue jay had been ever present on my daily walks and in my backyard. I did not bring this up to the medium, but in the reading my father communicated to me that this represented him visiting me. This knowledge brought indescribable comfort to me at the time. I had felt so lost without him, only to learn he had been there the whole time.

Helen had an earful about my love life and was very displeased on how my soon-to-be ex-husband had been treating me. She explained that it was a karmic relationship and said I would find love again. My dad showing up in the reading made sense to me, yet I wondered what skin Helen had in my game. I would not figure it out for some months. In this moment, I was simply overjoyed to hear that my dad was well and enjoying his experiences on the other side. He told me he and his father, Cecil, went sailing—it was confirmation of the January dream where he bobbed in the ocean, beaming his giant, trademark smile at me back on shore.

My dad and Helen also had a mouthful about my near future. They told me through Lori that I would meet the love of my life within the next year and have two kids. My human self loved to hear this, and my soul sighed heavily. Sar’h explained to me that people in the near-Earth realms didn’t know any more about the future than me because it wasn’t written in stone. As sovereign, self-governing beings, we choose what our lives will look like. On some level, I was angry with them for sharing this. Dead people are not any more psychic because they are dead. My father and Helen saw no more clearly than me. If they were, in fact, psychic, the only thing psychics have the ability to see is future potentials and possibilities, often through a limited lens.

At the time, the aspect of myself that believed in the Prince Charming fairy tale still had an active voice within me, and it was annoying as fuck. For the next year, the damsel-in-distress aspect would desperately look for her prince everywhere we went because my dad, an authority figure, had declared it so. Let’s just say he never came; my dad was wrong. This was the beginning of my understanding that in addition to the soul and human voices, there were also the voices of many aspects coming into play. I learned later from the Crimson Circle materials that “aspects” were identities our souls created in the past to answer the question, “Who am I?” Note to self—stop asking that question! They often take on their own voices and cause chaos and confusion in our lives if we are not conscious of them.

Sometimes we create aspects to fill roles in certain situations, like daughter, wife, or business owner. Additionally, past-life aspects or identities come into play, even ones created in dreams and other realities. I once dealt with an aspect in my bedroom whose face morphed into another, changing every second. That was interesting. When we are unconscious of them, the aspects can drag us in all directions. They can literally haunt us. On most occasions, when I thought I was dealing with a ghost or Earth-bound spirit, it turned out to be my own aspect haunting me. It would take me another year and a half to figure out what these rogue voices were and that, most importantly, instead of running them off by burning sage and wrapping myself in white light, I actually needed to invite them into the soul for integration.

This being named El Morya remained silent and patient as my dad and Helen went back and forth about the human details of my life. I could sense that he was going to share some wisdom when it came to the path of the soul, the walk of the master, which was what I was really interested in. El Morya—the name even seemed foreign to me as I jotted it down in my notebook, not knowing how it was spelled. Yet when he spoke, I knew it was time to listen carefully, and there would be no garble about my human love life.

First, he told me I had a very awakened third eye. “No shit, Sherlock,” I thought. I already knew this, but then I realized there was more to his words. Suddenly, it brought up a memory from December, when I’d returned from India. I was Christmas shopping for the last holiday with Brian and his family. I was in Barney’s when I saw a tiny gold necklace with a third eye hanging from it, a tiny diamond forming the pupil of the eye. It called to me, and I asked the sales clerk to pull it from the case so I could try it on. I loved it. The price tag seemed a bit steep for something so trivial when I needed to be spending money on gifts.

“Consider it a gift from me, a reminder of who you are.”

The words had come from my tall, thin Indian friend who had sat next to me on my yoga mat the previous month. In that moment, I finally connected the dots through the unrelenting density of the human mind. Holy hell. El Morya was the friend, the merlin, possibly even the Mortimer, who had been with me all these years. Now he was talking to me through a medium on a computer. It was an experience beyond my wildest human imagination. You couldn’t make this shit up. It was undeniably true; this was happening. As a child it had seemed so natural to have these experiences, but the world around me pounded the magic of my childhood experiences into oblivion. I could feel the magic of life returning, and it was going to have nothing to do with Prince Charming and the two rug rats my dad and Helen spoke of.

Second, El Morya told me people would be drawn to me, and I should not be scared. He repeated it: “People will come to you, and you should not be scared.”

“OK,” I thought. I couldn’t fathom what he meant at the time, so I wrote it down to examine later. What people? Yet I wouldn’t have to wait too long for the answer. A slew of professors, like Mortimer and El Morya, were already gathering in my living room.

Next, El Morya said I was very wise and on Earth to teach. Then he was silent, allowing some time for it to sink in. I thought of Mehtab, an adored Austin yogi and Vedic astrologer whom I received readings from and developed a friendship with. He also told me repeatedly that I would teach, but this information puzzled me as much as it did when Mortimer told me so many years ago that I stored codes of truth within me.

What in the ever-living fuck did they all want me to teach? What did I have to share? I didn’t feel equipped to teach anyone anything. I’d spent the summer making love, drinking wine, listening to music, and dancing on a boat deck. What did I know? The only thing I had been teaching was yoga, on occasion, and that wasn’t it. Who would be coming to me for answers? Yet his words passed my gut check. I trusted him and the fact that the details were going to fill themselves in as usual. The final thing El Morya told me was that he knew I liked to be active, but I needed to be still and listen.

“I’m supposed to sit still.” I shuddered. “Not my best talent.”

My human self wailed like a toddler throwing a tantrum and then quickly surrendered. The human in me was beginning to realize some fights with the divine will of the soul to know itself weren’t worth it. When my hour with Lori was up, I thanked everyone before signing off Skype, thinking to myself how strange it all was.

Now I really wanted to know who El Morya was and how he knew so much about me, but the medium had simply shrugged her shoulders when asked. After our session was over, I did what anyone would do and hit up Google. Now equipped with the Indian’s name, I typed it in various configurations. Then it popped up. He was an ascended master. My human self had never heard the term before. It took me some tries to figure out that an ascended master was someone who had completed their cycle of lifetimes on Earth, becoming self-realized or enlightened like Buddha or Jesus. “Or King Arthur, my childhood hero,” I thought. I learned there were many others like him, some better known than others. Today I believe there are fewer than ten thousand human beings who have made their way through the enlightenment/ascension/self-realization experience, whatever you wish to call it.

Through my research, I learned El Morya received his name in his last human incarnation as El Morya Kahn, who lived in India and ascended in 1898. The website listed that his other incarnations on Earth included Abraham; Melchior, one of the three wise men at the birth of Jesus; and King Arthur—wait, what? King Arthur? My mind was about to explode, unable to handle the infusion of energy shooting through my body. Later I would learn that El Morya was also the teacher of Helena Blavatsky, the Russian occultist, spirit medium, and author who cofounded the Theosophical Society in 1875—a detail that would become important later on as I remembered more.

After the reading with the medium and in the following days, I began to go through a series of initiations, trainings, or experiences in remembering with El Morya and other ascended masters. As it turned out, I no longer needed the medium to translate. My human self was floored. Fuck, was this what I had been doing as a child? I felt oddly familiar, and not just from childhood. I had an understanding that this was not a new ability. This was something I had been doing for thousands of years. I forgot it in the density of the illusion the physical world had created. My human voice finally admitted that it did not seem so crazy that I’d quit my job and left my marriage. There was so much more to life. I was reeling.

After the medium reading, many experiences began to rapidly unfold. I received communications from beings not yet identified while I was driving, meditating, and often while sleeping in the middle of the night. My new friends would lead me on Internet searches at 3:00 a.m. I was happy to jump down Alice’s rabbit hole, no matter how mad it made me. During one of the 3:00 a.m. sessions, I landed on a website with an audio recording in which a woman was channeling El Morya while being interviewed by her husband in a radio-show format. It felt as if El Morya was talking directly to me, and I realized that the interview had been recorded on October 6, 2013—two days before my reading with the medium. At the end of the interview, the husband of the channel said, “If this recording called to anyone, they should contact Karen, who is a channel in Austin, Texas.” Holy fuck. Austin, Texas. I had to call.

The next morning I called Karen. Her husband, Chuck, answered the phone and passed it over.

“How’d you hear about me?” she asked.

“El Morya sent me.” I felt ridiculous saying it, but it was true. Her voice did not even waver. She suggested the afternoon of October 15, 2013, and I agreed, writing down her address.

Before I got to Karen’s, Master Morya appeared on the afternoon of October 14. Adhering to his advice to be still and listen, I was sitting in the back bedroom of the Sunny Shack, which was the designated meditation room where I taught my few yoga clients. My eyes were shut, and I was sitting cross-legged on my yoga mat when he appeared. He began energetically—not with words but in the universal language of images and sensations—leading me through an experience. Ollie rested by my side.

It started off as what I can only describe as waves of unforgiving, unrelenting forgiveness, which built in intensity and washed over my body. Then Master Morya asked aloud if I could allow forgiveness for every perceived wrong in this life and others, including all the guilt and shame I had carried for so long for simply being in a human body. He did not ask me to ask God for forgiveness, but rather requested that I allow forgiveness from myself, at the soul level. I knew internally that it was unnecessary to go into the details of any so-called wrong, and I should be allowing the energy of forgiveness into my being. It was not like the Catholic confession I had been forced to give in my teenage years. Through my conversations with Sar’h, I knew that these were only perceived wrongs because there really was no such thing as right and wrong, only experiences of the soul. With each wave of unrelenting forgiveness that swept over my body of consciousness, my physical body felt lighter—so light I wondered if I might be levitating, yet I did not open my eyes, which remained tightly shut in case opening them might have interrupted the experience.

Next, Master Morya asked if I wanted to be a vessel for the will of God. It wasn’t what you would think. He wasn’t referencing some old man in the sky and his Ten Commandments. The will of God is really a deep desire from Spirit for humans to know their own soul, to witness and experience their inner divinity. In a trance-like state, my human self repeated over and over, “I am a vessel for the will of God.” My spine twisted clockwise in its serpent-like motion. Then I felt an overwhelming compassion for every human being, every animal, every plant, every mineral, and every single cell on planet Earth. The movie played internally. It started with a picture of Earth from space, zooming in on the green forests and blue oceans, even down to a microscopic level. The unconditional love I felt for every tiny bit of Earth brought me to tears, and every single cell and the spaces between the cells of my body lit up with passion.

Then, in a dramatic turn, I began to deeply feel the pain and suffering of the collective human consciousness. I was taken through a historical timeline of the pain and suffering experienced by humans since the beginning of time on Earth. I realized it was a review of the collective pain body of this planet. Rape. Murder. Wars. Slavery. Witch-hunts. No stone was left unturned as I spun through time, feeling everything. With it came the knowledge that I had experienced all this both as an individual soul incarnated thousands of times and as a consciousness outside the physical body. For a brief moment, I remembered that I had been shown this evolution before. It had been 2006, and I had been tripping on mushrooms on an Amsterdam houseboat. I realized it was one of the many times Master Morya had tried to contact me over the years, and I had failed to get it. How had I missed it so many times?

Master Morya then asked if I wanted to help this planet evolve. I had already answered the question in Mrs. Bank’s classroom at age eight, but I answered again.

“Yes, it sounds like a hell of an adventure,” I said.

Then I was shown, in the universal picture language I knew so well, the potential for the evolution of the collective human consciousness—a place and time where everyone lives in the true creative nature of the soul, rather than in his or her head, where people manifest with pure intention—no jobs needed—and where the human concepts of suffering and scarcity of resource do not exist. This brought tears of joy to my eyes, and every cell in my body activated. Homo luminous. I am a body of light.

Then I was taken back to the beginning of time. El Morya seemed to step away from leading the experience to witnessing it. I was drawn deep into my soul, and I felt like I turned soul side out, human side in. The message came in the form of an illustrated story, like a children’s book. Souls were created in an energetic surge of expression from the Spirit for two purposes—to create and to experience those creations. I watched fireworks of light multiply against a dark sky. Eventually, some of the souls grew tired of creating “out there” and decided to give it a whirl on this blue-green planet called Earth. I saw a vision of souls in space, shooting down through a tube connecting to Earth. The only trick was that, on most occasions, the souls forgot who they were when coming into the density of the physical body, forced to try to remember it all over again. There appeared to be no bookmark, and the soul lost its place in its own story, starting over once again in a baby’s body.

When Spirit created the souls, it was in its image. These souls had the same creative abilities and the same authority to self-govern as Spirit. Never wanting to control, govern, or impact the outcome of these souls, Spirit’s only desire was to create and experience the creation, to allow the souls to realize they were creator beings as well. With the images came an intense understanding that Spirit, also called God or the Universe, did not care about the details of our human lives. In fact, it did not give a shit, yet it was not as callous as it sounds. Rather, this creator left the souls to create and experience at will, to allow the souls to eventually understand they were the creators of their realities. By staying neutral or even appearing uncaring to the human eye, Spirit allowed these souls to experience their inner divinity, to understand that the God they sought so desperately actually existed within. I could strongly sense that Spirit/God/the Universe held extreme compassion for the souls it created—true compassion, like Sar’h said, is honoring the path of every soul without trying to change it.

My soul then showed me in images and sensations, indicating a record number of human souls were beginning to feel into the chapter where they had left off. They were remembering. No longer did this human life feel like a solitary experience to them. They were realizing that they had been around the human block a few hundred to a couple thousand times. Then, in the images, I saw a million different ways to wake up, a million different ways to crack the limits of human awareness—no one way better than the other. I was shown that for me it took my father’s death to wake up to return to the soul’s natural evolution, but it would be different for everyone.

A funny thing happened on the way to enlightenment; I lost everything, said one master to another.

I could see through the ever-shifting pictures that the cracks created by human-perceived tragedies allowed waves of consciousness, or awareness, to flood in. Through the cracks in the eggshell that made up the density of human awareness, the light of the soul could seep into the physical body—embodied consciousness. I could see the more that humans tried to resist the waves, the more lost and sick they became, often resulting in them pumping themselves full of prescription pills or insane amounts of supplements, trying to treat the sickness like I once had. They would yell to God or the Universe—“Why are you doing this to me?”—like I once had. They would give up because they felt insane and lost in the modern world, too exhausted from the rat race to continue on the soul’s journey, like I once had. In that moment of surrender, in that moment of unbelievable pain and suffering, the consciousness would roll in through the cracks, like it had for me, if they could allow it.

“We have to remember the act of being human is wildly courageous in and of itself.”

I heard the words from Sar’h so clearly. I was shown that there were many souls “back home” who’d never dared to try human life and were watching us from the safety of their cosmic couches, some trying to give direction with no firsthand experience of what it was like to be human. I realized that there were many of us, like me, who forgot how to create outside the confines of society and the limited human mind. Many, like me, abandoned the soul in pursuit of a singular human experience, where we tended to play it safe and stay in our cages, where society told us we belonged. Like me, many forgot that human existence was actually a grand adventure in which we forget our true nature in order to have the amazing experience of realizing our divinity, remembering that we are God, and reclaiming the true creator nature of our souls in this physical human form. This experience was one of the grandest adventures in all time and space, and I was on it. So were many others, and even more were ready to awaken at any moment.

After the experience was over, I was so spent I collapsed in a heap on my yoga mat. Disoriented, it took me another hour to get up. I walked my dog outside to go to the bathroom, took a steaming hot Epsom salt bath, and climbed into bed. Tomorrow I was headed to Karen’s house for a reading, of which I had no expectations because there wasn’t anything to pull from.

***

Walking into Karen and Chuck’s house, I felt instantly comfortable. After talking with Chuck, who had been a Methodist minister before his awakening, Karen and I went into her office. She sat in a recliner with a digital recorder and then pulled the side lever to lie back. She tossed me a blanket, explaining that it got cold when masters and archangels entered the room. I told her about my experiences over the past few weeks. She shared about when she began talking to masters at age forty. She now appeared to be in her midsixties, beautiful, and full of light. Karen said she had been in meditation when she felt every cell of her body activate, after which she was able to communicate with the unseen. Raised Baptist, Karen said it had been quite a shock. She mainly spoke of her relationship with Archangel Michael. Unlike ascended masters, archangels have never been in physical bodies but hold a consciousness and an interest in the evolution of Earth, she explained. In my awakening, I naturally gravitated toward beings who knew what it was like to be human rather than ones directing from the outside, yet archangels have been so involved on Earth for so long, they tended to get human life more so than the others who weighed in with no actual experience.

I told her I wanted to speak to El Morya again, and I thought I had been speaking with him on my own, but my human doubts still lingered. I was so unsure of myself at the time. I would have such expansive experiences, only to go back to the insecure human who consistently doubted everything. If anything, hearing Karen’s story was of more comfort than anything else. She and Chuck seemed to have their heads on straight. They understood business and felt grounded. They didn’t wear white robes and cover themselves in crystals. They felt like a regular couple in retirement, and yet they did not think my story was strange at all. At the time, my human self still wondered if I was crazy, and their presence gave it some much-needed relief.

When we started, Karen seemed to go into some sort of altered state. Like Lori, she invited my angels and guides into the room. I preferred to call them my friends. The words angels and guides made me cringe. It felt too New Age, but why bring up a nuance in words? Master Morya came in quickly, speaking through Karen. He explained what I’d already understood in my childhood, adolescence, and even in India, but needed to hear again. He said that if I completed what I needed to in this life, I would fully self-realize or ascend. I would have the choice of never incarnating back on Earth unless I wanted a specific experience. He said that during my ascension, I could choose whether to leave the physical body or stay in it. He implied that this was a rather new choice. Most find it hard to stay in the density of the physical body, but as more masters did this, it would became easier for others.

Of course, my human self wanted to know what I had to complete in this life to ascend while staying in the body, and it wanted it delivered in nice, neat bullet points. My soul chuckled at the thought, and he gave no steps. Some things we must realize on our own, a box turtle had once told a little girl. Master Morya reinforced that I needed to be still and listen.

“Be, be, be—not do, do, do,” he said through Karen.

Once again, Master Morya said other masters and archangels would be visiting me, and I should not be scared and should be open to what they would share. Besides being still and open, he said, most importantly, I needed to learn discernment. Being that open would attract many visitors, both in physical and nonphysical form. I really needed to do a gut check on their intentions and determine truth for myself at the soul level. It scared me a bit, but I also understood what he was saying. As a child playing in the backyard with various beings, I had learned that, for some, fear was food.

If you didn’t give off fear, they would go away to eat elsewhere. I had also learned at an early age that not all my visitors were who they said they were, and my soul voice was the best compass in these situations. Yet the word discernment was new, and it held a certain frequency I needed to sense into more. Soon after I realized that the greatest place to practice my discernment was in deciphering my soul voice from the voice of aspects within me. Which internal voice was actually Sar’h and which ones were aspects of myself that no longer served me? This proved to be a challenge that I would eventually master.

El Morya finished the session by saying I was here to assist others in their ascension process. He said it so casually, like it was a trip to the grocery store. A bell rang inside me.

“This is what I am supposed to teach!” my human screamed internally.

Instead of allowing the words to resonate, my human self grabbed greedily at the information and twisted it all around. It saw me as some talking head, spreading wisdom in a series of lectures. My soul strongly—but gently—came in.

“Absolutely not. The way to teach ascension is to be it. Gurus are obsolete in this New Energy (what comes after the New Age). The soul’s or master’s voice is the only guru. The kingdom is within. Remember that true compassion is honoring everything and everyone as is, without trying to change it,” Sar’h said energetically.

“Don’t go home and start putting together PowerPoint presentations and webinars, Lauren,” she joked at my human’s expense. “Your human self has to catch up.”

I remembered El Morya showing me the pain and suffering on Earth and asking me if I wanted to help. I realized then he did not mean through activism, prayer circles, holding healing energy for Earth, or anything of the like. He only meant through self-realization. When a human realizes who they truly are, when they realize their mastery, the effects ripple through the rest of the world exponentially, and more so than any other action. There was nothing for me to do, no one for me to help. The only thing was to be and to allow the transfiguration to take place inside me. I was here to live my story rather than lecture it.

The human fought a bit—not just then but many other times. Of course, we needed to gather our swords and rally the troops. But Sar’h was no longer outside me. Her voice was rooted deep within my womb through the infusion of kundalini or spirit. Sar’h was me. I took a deep breath and relaxed. That’s all there was left to do.

When I got home from Karen and Chuck’s, I remember lying in the hammock, rocking back and forth for hours, experiencing what I can only describe as samadhi, a state of pure, undiluted bliss. The sensation lasted three solid days. On the fourth day, I felt a crash beyond comparison to my drug-fueled days. I hit rock bottom and could barely get up to go to the bathroom. I couldn’t stop crying, and I couldn’t understand what was happening to me—the contrast in consciousness too staggering for my human to keep up.

​***

DON DRAPER: What happened to your enlightenment?
ROGER STERLING: It wore off.
--Mad Men, Season 5, Episode 1