Vision of the Grail - A compelling quest for meaning to life's deeper mysteries, the narrator follows her intuition from a labyrinth in a San Francisco cathedral, to mystical meetings in New Mexico.  Fascinating characters weave colorful threads of wisdom into an intriguing tale... an experiential quest for the Holy Grail.  The reader is brought into the realm of dreams and synchronicity, unraveling startling information that challenges long-held beliefs about human origin and the destiny of planet Earth.  A powerful vision at the end of the story illuminates the possibilities that await us all at this important time in history.

Vision of the Grail is more than an adventure, it evokes a powerful response from the reader to participate fully in life, and to act when Spirit calls!

Release date: June 15, 2001; Fiction-Spiritual Life; ISBN 1-930126-07-7 $14.95.  To purchase this book go to www.lightlinespublishingco.com

Lightlines Publishing Co.

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Visit www.grailvision.com

the one and only Official Website of "Vision of the Grail" by Kathleen Jacoby

Recreation:  The Story Behind the Vision of the Grail

This story begins in June of 1995 when I read an article in New Age Journal about the Labyrinth. Something inside me became very excited. I had a feeling that I was supposed to find one and walk on it. I lived in Palo Alto on the San Francisco Peninsula, and although it is not that far from the City of San Francisco, I had hoped there might be a Labyrinth somewhere closer to my residence.

So I called a man who was a customer at the bookstore where I worked on Sundays, as he was well versed in the Labyrinth, which he called the Dromenon. Frank, who is Luke in the story, offered to take me to walk on the Labyrinth in San Francisco, and the story depicts what actually happened on that walk. However, what occurred on our way home, was that Frank asked our mutual friend Margret (Helen in the story) and me if we would like to accompany him on his trip to New Mexico in October. He would be there for five days on retreat, and would love to show us the magical state he was intending to move to in a few years.

I do not particularly like to travel, but without hesitation, I said I would certainly come to New Mexico. I was as amazed as my friends and family were when I told them I was going. Something else was directing this venture, and I had enough sense to follow.

The trip to New Mexico involved many things described in the book. The experience with the mountains and the tree and the Indian museum and village were all depictions of actual impressions and happenings.

When we left New Mexico, I sobbed. feeling wrenched from my "family" and home. I attempted to sketch my impressions of the mountains and searched for books that would show the ones I had felt such kinship to.

In February of 1996 we walked the Labyrinth again, and while engaged in the process, I received a message. "Your work is going to change. You will leave what you are doing and move into your greater work. This has been your apprenticeship. The bigger work will now begin."

I left the Labyrinth and sat on the sideline, looking up at the windows. "Great!" I thought. That was fine with me, but how would I make a living, and what was my new work? I had questions with no answers. Now the process of finding my way to it would begin. I shared what I'd received with Frank and Margret, and she got "chills," feeling that indeed something big was opening up for me.

At the end of March I realized that I had to do something to make more money, and decided I would have to take another consulting job to supplement my income. I lead an unusual lifestyle.piecing together aspects of income in order to have the freedom to be me. Now, the prospect loomed ahead once again to find other avenues of financial support, although I wasn't happy about it.

That day, I had an appointment with a friend who did cranial sacral work, and as she asked me what I was doing, I told her about my need to find a part time job. She became very animated and excitedly proposed that I think about helping organize a new office for her and her fiancé who were in the midst of combining their practices. She said I could name my hours and come to work for as long or as little as I wanted. She said, "don't answer now.go home and think about it. We're not going to do this 'til May, so you have some time."

I went home, amazed at how quickly my thoughts had manifested an offer of work. I also felt dejected about it, because I had done this before. In an attempt to supplement my income, I'd taken work that wasn't my work, and my creativity came to a halt. The end result was always frustration, and I had the feeling of walking back into a box for the sake of security.

During the next week, I had a dream. In the dream, I was at their office and could find their shoes, but none of my own. I then left the office and got onto my tricycle to ride home..going down a steep hill with no brakes. I then went to a group of foreigners and asked where I lived. They didn't know and did not speak English. Next scene, I was leaving the office, looking for my car. It had been stolen, and when I asked a repairman if he'd seen anyone take it, he told me he was working undercover and would not say anything.
The dream kept unfolding in a manner that told me clearly that I was selling myself to something that would allow me no identity or fulfillment, and I woke up very clear about its message. However, I needed the work, so was still considering the offer.

As another week passed, I felt irresponsible for not giving an answer to a very generous offer. I had decided I would tell my friend "yes" at our next scheduled appointment. On the day before I was to see her, I was in the bathroom putting on my makeup when the voice that I heard on the Labyrinth "spoke" to me. It suggested that I should take the time I would work for the friend and write, supplementing my income with my savings for six months.or until the end of the year. I thought about that. It was an exciting prospect, but I had no idea what I would write about. A technical book on the subject I'd been working with for 18 years? My newsletter? No. Neither of those things felt appropriate, and I was left again with a possibility, but no answer.

I went to my appointment and told my friend what had happened, and that I had always taken jobs   in the past when I got scared about not having enough money, but that this time I was going to have to invest in myself (which was a message I'd been getting since the early 1980s and never followed). She told me that if she was responsible for me doing more of my creative work, she was delighted, and there were no hard feelings. In fact, she was overjoyed for me.

So the weeks passed, and I still had no idea what I would write. About a week after reading The Tenth Insight, by James Redfield, I was sitting in my living room in the morning with a cup of tea, looking out at the garden, and the voice came.

You should write a book. "Fine," I replied. "What about?" You should write a book about life, about the things you've experienced and know, and you should write it as fiction. "Fiction? I don't do fiction!" I responded. Yes, you can. I will help you. Model it after the Celestine Prophecy. It doesn't have to be great literature. It has to bring a message of awakening to people. Go on. Go upstairs now and sit at your computer. You can do it. I became very excited. I thought about it. The Celestine Prophecy and The Tenth Insight were books with good messages, but I was always annoyed with the contrived violence. Perhaps I could do something. If not, I would throw my attempts away. So I went upstairs, flipped on my computer and began. I had the first sentence in my head and would start there. As I glanced at the clock on my computer, it was 11:11, and the music on my CD was Amazing Grace.

As I began writing, ideas tumbled in my mind, and I poured them out as I went. I called my friend Margret and read the first two pages to her, and she got "chills" again. "Oh, Kathleen.you really have something here. You must continue. This is going to be an important work. Not just for you, but for other people as well." And so the story began.

I was surprisingly energized. I would work for 10 and 12 hours a day on the book without noticing the passing of time. Other things took me away from this work that was becoming a living experience. While I wrote about the New Mexico portion of the journey, I had tapes on by Chris Isaak and the Gypsy Kings. Frank had given me old issues of New Mexico magazines, and I cut pictures out of them that reflected the natural setting that I loved there. I taped them to my computer monitor and all over the room, so I would feel as though I were there. It would surprise me when I came out of my writing and found myself in California. When I walked, ideas would flow through my mind. One morning a large black crow cawed at me and followed as I walked. I looked to see what he wanted, but he just made me aware that he was there, and this was how he came to be part of the story.

When I wrote one of the chapters, I initially called it Human Energy Systems. I went into an explanation of graphs and charts on a table in the back of the room and was totally stuck. It felt wooden and had nowhere to go. I stopped in frustration and looked up and called out, "Help!"   The voice presented itself. What help do you want? You seem intent on doing this your way, so go ahead. "No! I want your help. I can't write this by myself." So the presence seemed to ask if I really did want assistance, and I was adamant. "I want this to be your book. I'm merely your scribe." With that, I erased the chapter title, and in its place flowed the words, Rivers of Light. And in my room, standing before me with incredible grace was a beautiful Indian woman in a sari. "Namaste!".and the chapter began.

At one point in the story, I realized I was again going down a wrong path. I had written myself into a corner, and by page 112, I realized I had reached a dead end. Again I asked for help. This time the presence seemed to smile. Well, you'll have to go back to page 69 where you went off track. and back I went.

This continuous process of writing, being inspired, stopping to review where I was going, checking out how much I was willing to give up control, starting again.adding, subtracting, expanding, contracting. The process was a life process. I was growing as I was writing and learning in the process. I saw how much I liked being in control, and the importance of not being in control. When I came to the end of the New Mexico adventure in the story, there was a tangible constriction in my throat. I didn't want to leave the place I loved. It was a hard adjustment, and the return to the Bay Area was not easy for me, even though I'd physically been there the whole time! Walking became my way of working through the process. I would come home with renewed intention or a fresh idea.

The project began on May 4 and was completed in its first draft on June 24th. Aside from obligations to family and get-togethers with friends plus my Sundays at the bookstore where I worked part time, I did very little else. Some days I actually wrote for 14 or 16 hours. And there were days when I would get up at 4AM and start writing. I realized that I had fallen in love, not just with the characters, but with the process. I loved what I was doing, and then read on a desk calendar that had sayings from Thomas Moore's Care of the Soul, that if your work is not your lover, it is not your work. Again, synchronicity. Everywhere if we pay attention. This "assignment" was the fullest thing I'd ever been given so far, and as I wrote and rewrote, I showed the unfolding story to various friends who became my readers and critics. They were generous in their praise and encouraging in the process. Everyone wanted me to go on because they all felt there was something in this that was important for others, that it must be shared with the world.

I had no idea where it was going, nor did it matter. I was following the guidance that prompted me, and the result was a deep enrichment of my life.

When I'm asked now who is real and who is not, I prefer not to tell about everyone. Suffice it to say that some characters are real people, others a composite of those I know, and most interestingly several are people who I met AFTER I wrote their character! I would create characters, and then their real-life counterpart would appear. It added to the amazing quality of the entire experience surrounding the writing of this story.   The time between the writing of Vision of the Grail and its current publication is a whole other story in itself. Let's just say it was a miracle..and the current publisher is part of an institute..and guess what it's called? Miracles Institute!

So.now you know most of the story.
 

Kathleen Jacoby is the author of three books: Where You Live Is What You Learn, a guidebook to understanding how the number of your residence affects your life; Vision of The Grail, a spiritual novel about living an authentic life in the 21st Century; and A Call To Prayer, an inner guide to help you live a prayerful life.  Kathleen is also a Life Strategies Consultant.

For more information, or to order an amazing personal reading, e-mail her at: K92237@aol.com
 

As I trudged up the hill noting my breath, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for life, and had a strange sensation that things were about to change in a most remarkable way. Because of the work I did as a writer and consultant, I was able to live in an area that was ideal for me, and had the luxury to take time to enjoy nature when I wanted, rather than on fixed days off.

Good hiking trails were plentiful on the San Francisco Peninsula, and I often went with a friend who lived close to the nature preserves we enjoyed so much. These walks in the hills allowed us to exercise amidst the beauty and temperate climate of the area, enjoying the scenery and animated conversation without interruption.

This was a valuable friendship, and more and more, I was aware of the need to choose companions wisely, to reflect the best of myself and my possibilities rather than my limitations. Once long ago, I had a teacher who summed it up very simply. "How do you know what your own liver looks like unless you look at the liver of somebody else?" I thought that was a strange statement at the time, but realized the truth of what she said as the years went by.

We see ourselves constantly in everybody around us. They are mirrors, reflecting parts of ourselves back to us, and sometimes it's hard to believe that because they may represent our blind spots or our judgments. Through the years, whenever I would get upset at my friends or relatives, I always had to ask myself, "What are they showing me about me?"

That same teacher would look at the sea of faces in front of her and challenge us to write a list of all our grievances against someone who caused us suffering. At the end of the exercise, when we felt smug and self-satisfied, she'd smile, like the Cheshire Cat, and say, "Now, put your name in the place of the one you are condemning." Everyone groaned. Instead of, "She never listens to me," we had to turn it around. "I never listen to her." "He doesn't appreciate me" became, "I don't appreciate him." And then beyond that, "I never listen to me." "I don't appreciate myself." She had a way of getting to the heart of an issue and making us look at our own part in the process. It was great training, and I carried it with me through the years.

She counseled us to pay attention to the quality of our relationships. Gradually, I recognized people in my life who encouraged me to grow, as well as the ones who were threatened whenever I would take a step forward. It wasn't easy to give up old friendships that had been established during a time when my needs were different, and when love was involved, it was even harder. But I found myself imprisoned by lack of growth, and for me, relationships had to involve the component of a search for meaning and hold compatible goals of unfoldment.
I was thankful for my friends like Bonita, and coming back to the present moment, we completed our hike up the hill, and stood at the summit looking over the valley in quiet appreciation. Bonita let out a hearty 'whoop' as we moved toward her home, nestled amidst the trees. Behind the main house was a beautiful octagonal structure that had been built on what she and her husband were told was a sacred site, and the work she did there with groups helped them get in touch with the sacred parts of themselves through sound, meditation, and music.

As we walked into what was called the Center, I could feel the sense of peace and ease that it always gave me. There was a welcoming presence that encouraged insights and reflection.

"Would you like some tea?" Bonita asked.

I responded that I would, but that I'd like to meditate first. We each found comfortable spaces in which to sit, and as I eased into a state of relaxation, moving away from the personal me to a greater collective sense of unity, I felt the presence of what I came to regard as the inner teacher. As I became still and listened, a message seemed to imprint itself upon my mind: "Find the Holy Grail."

"Find the what?" I thought. The Presence receded, and I was left with the cryptic message. "Find the Holy Grail."

Bonita and I always shared our insights after meditation, and I paused as if trying to find the right words. I told her what I'd received and asked her what she knew about the Holy Grail.

"Not much," she replied, "but I do know that there has to be a book about it. Wasn't that connected to the myth of King Arthur?"

I nodded my head, because that seemed right, and mentally noted that I would go to my favorite bookstore to investigate further. After we finished our tea and made arrangements for our next walk, I drove down the hill, questioning what I knew about the Grail. Very little. What an odd message, I thought, and wondered what it meant... but recognized from experience that this was the way I was led to grow. I felt the Presence many years ago when I learned to meditate, and it had taken me on a number of journeys, each insight or directive leading to something more that rounded out a part of my education, adding dimension to my understanding.

When I thought about it, what I called the Presence had been there when I was little. One day at about age four, I was playing in my bedroom, when I noticed a file of ants marching across the floor. In a fit of anger, I began to step on them. As I did this, I could feel the color red inside me and a swelling of something that I now recognize as power. The killing of them inflated a part of me that wanted dominion, and in the midst of my action, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a voice that came from beyond the lustful sensation, and lodged itself in front of me.

"Stop!" it commanded.

I halted in the midst of my frenzy and looked around. Again, the voice spoke again. "Stop! You are never to do that again."

My attention diverted from the act of killing the ants to this compelling presence. I stood quietly and listened. "It's not your right to kill anything. You must never do that again because it is wrong." The voice was not judgmental in tone. It was the voice of a loving parent, explaining right from wrong.

In that moment my guilt was so great, I looked at what I'd done. Ants were scurrying everywhere, confused from my messing up their pattern. I immediately went to the kitchen and brought the sugar bowl, leaving little clumps of it for the remaining ones who had escaped my rampage. I cleaned up the dead ants and asked forgiveness for my action. From that point, I knew the Presence was with me. It remained evident until I became self-conscious at the time of puberty, and then it seemed to disappear until such time as I consciously brought myself into prayer, meditation and reflection.

So here again, it had surfaced, and I was being set on a course to investigate what finding the Holy Grail meant. I knew this venture would have to wait until tomorrow, because I had deadlines to meet. As the editor of a quarterly newsletter, I was determined to finish the spring issue before it was summer!

I awoke the next morning, remembering a dream from the night before. It was strange in its implication. A man came to meet with a friend of mine who had a little software company that I helped manage in the past, so I was standing with my friend as this other individual approached us. He wanted to buy some of John's software, and his assistant seemed very nervous and asked us if we knew how wealthy his boss really was. In effect, he said to us, "Don't you know who Russell Steitz is? He's one of the wealthiest men in the United States!"

As I looked back at the man referred to, he appeared to be someone who would go to whatever means necessary to get what he wanted. I felt he was not to be trusted, nor to be trifled with. He had a strong need to exert power and control over others.

In the next scene of my dream, we were in another room, and this man, Russell, was talking to a group of us. He was standing over us and seemed to be in an adversarial position. His actions confirmed my earlier suspicions of his need to control.

All of a sudden, I looked up and saw him... the real him who dwelt inside, and I blurted out, "Oh, Russell, have you forgotten who you really are?"

He looked toward me, infuriated at the perceived attack, and began to launch into a tirade. However, when he saw who had spoken, and observed the look of pure love and clarity on my face, his whole demeanor shifted, and his expression softened. Remembrance replaced anger, and he asked if we had gone to school together.

I knew we hadn't been to school together... that I was just to remind him of the original intention and vision for his life. This man who had been embroiled by his position released the veil that kept him from himself. My calling him out had opened that possibility.

The dream was over, and I shook myself after writing it down. I wondered what it meant, and how it fit into the message I received yesterday. It brought up a related thought in the Bible... about the rich man going to heaven. In the English versions translated from Greek, the admonition is given that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to go through the gates of heaven. However, in the original Aramaic, which was the language of Jesus, the translation states that it is easier for a rope to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to go through the gates of heaven, the implication being that if a rope is reduced to its simplest strand, it can pass through the eye. However, it cannot get through while it is in an inflated state because it is encumbered by accumulation.

Somehow that tied into the dream, and I vowed to get a copy of the Lamsa Bible which was the Aramaic translation that more accurately reflected what the New Testament actually stated. I thought there might be other important differences in translation that I would need later.

From years past, I became aware of synchronicity, the act of meaningful coincidence. The eminent Swiss psychiatrist, Carl Jung, had done a lot of work in the field, as had others, and I found that coincidence meant "coinciding events that brought an important moment together." Those meaningful coincidences were never to be discarded, for they contained valuable clues to the future.

After dressing, I decided my first stop would be Wisdom Books. The store was located in an old house on the peninsula and it had an air of magic about it. I was friends with the owner and had actually participated in its creation fifteen years before. Now, I worked there on Sundays as part of my service to others. I often bought more books than I made in salary, but it was worth it. For me, this was a place of meaningful coincidence.

As I walked up the steps and opened the door, I was greeted by my friend Matthew, the store's owner. "Matt, what books do you have on the Holy Grail?"I asked, never being one for beating around the bush.

He looked at me strangely and asked why I was curious. "Because I had a message in my meditation yesterday that I was supposed to find the Holy Grail."

"That's funny, you're the third person this morning to come in and ask the same question!"

He got up and walked to a section in the store that had books related to myth and King Arthur. "Too bad, they bought what I had, but let's see what we can find." As he rummaged through the shelves, I thought about our used book room and said Iíd go back there. Wondering why others had also gotten the message, I was more curious than ever to find the meaning of the directive. Poking amidst the used books, I could find nothing, and he came around, shaking his head. "No luck, but I'll have more books coming in within the week. I'll place an order today."

Disappointed, I thought how, in the past, I never seemed to find what I needed through a class, or in books alone. It was as though I had to find truth through the clues life presented. Once during the '70s, when having a spiritual teacher was especially popular, the Inner Presence told me that I was not to attach myself to one view only, because Life was my teacher. I laughed as I recalled this and shared it with Matt, who was not only a great resource, but a good friend.

"Well, Matt, what do you know about the Holy Grail? How would you define it?"
He thought for a moment. "It's actually quite complex, but what it boils down to is that each of us is a Grail, and the quest for the Holy Grail is a search for unity and wholeness within ourselves. It goes way beyond the Arthurian legends and can be traced back to Hermetic philosophy."

What he told me intrigued me. I thought about a poster I had on a door in my study. It was of Hermes, the Ancient Egyptian personification of wisdom. Now I was feeling excited, for I was looking at clues and needed to put them together. I spent a little more time in the store, looking through some dictionaries of symbols, jotting down notes, and then I left.

At home I looked at the poster. Inscribed on it was, "The supreme mind ­ being light and life, fashioned a glorious universal man in its own image. A man of earth and a man of heaven, dwelling in the light of God. Understand, O Hermes, and meditate deeply upon the mystery. That, which in you sees and hears, is not of the world, but is the mind of God, incarnate... Divine Light dwells in the midst of mortal darkness, and ignorance cannot divide them. Learn deeply of the mind and its mystery, for therein lies the secret of eternal life!"

The poster went on to tell of Hermes' writing which personified universal wisdom with sacred eloquence. That wisdom was dormant for ages, but was now stirring in the hearts and minds of the people of the world as a spiritual awakening was taking place. The Great Pyramid, which was a symbol of eternity, was said to be dedicated to this new humanity.  Here was an ancient writer who saw the human being as potentially divine, and that the key to that divinity was within the mind. It wasn't a lot, but that gave me a piece that might fit into a larger puzzle later.

I looked at my notes from the bookstore. The dictionary of symbols had information about the Grail. It originated from pre-Christian religions and was later translated within Christianity as the vessel for the holy sacraments.

It was interesting to note that Carl Jung regarded the Grail as symbolizing the inner wholeness for which humans have always been searching. He felt it was difficult to achieve this state because people were more caught in the material pursuit, than in the inner pursuit, and often missed the opportunity for insight.

I was particularly taken by his idea that the 'quest for the inaccessible Grail symbolized the spiritual risks and demands of the interior life, which alone can open the Gates of the heavenly space where the divine chalice stands in the light of its own radiance.' The prize to be found for each individual would be a fundamental transformation of heart and soul.  Here again was reference to light, as in the paragraph written about Hermes. They were saying the same thing in different ways.

I had two clues that involved methods to finding our inner light. For now, I would have to let that be enough. There was more work to do on the newsletter.
 

The next morning, as I worked on the newsletter, the phone rang. It was my friend Luke, who had been a priest in the Catholic Church for 17 years before recognizing that he had a different path to take. We talked about our upcoming plans for a walk on the Labyrinth at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. The Labyrinth is a sacred geometrical pattern found on the floor of Chartres Cathedral in France, and copied for use by pilgrims in the United States.

Luke had been a customer at the bookstore for years, and the way he and I became friends was another coincidental occurrence. I read an article about the Labyrinth in San Francisco a couple of years before and felt immediate excitement, sensing this was something I had to learn more about. The Labyrinth is a circle about forty feet in diameter, with a path that leads through a maze-like pattern to a central space that looks like a flower. The six petals, or stations in the center, represent the inner portion of oneself.

I remembered that Luke had talked about the Labyrinth once when he came into the store, so I called him to find out more information. When I expressed interest in walking on it, he offered to take me. That was the beginning of a special friendship that involved pilgrimages to Grace Cathedral, and beyond.

I recalled our first venture to the Labyrinth. It was a Monday morning when Luke came to pick me up, and as we were pulling out of my driveway, he commented that he wished we had asked our mutual friend Helen to join us. "Why not try now?" I said, and jumped out of the car to call her.

Helen was a wonderful friend who worked spiritually with people to help ease their suffering. She was a minister and a clairvoyant who had helped many. She was also a lot of fun.

As the phone rang, I thought if it was right that she join us, she would be there.
"Hello?" I heard Helen say.

"Helen, it's me. What are you doing right now?" I asked.

"Well, nothing really. Why?"

"How would you like to go with Luke and me on an adventure for the day?"

She paused and then said she'd be delighted. "When must I be ready?"
"Now! We are nearing your street."

"Oh, my," she said. "Give me 10 minutes."

We circled the block a few times and then picked her up. We gave her only cryptic details of what our adventure entailed.

We drove up the Peninsula to San Francisco in perfect weather. The rain had finally cleared from the past two weeks storms. The sky was crystal blue, as only it could be in northern California. I remember thinking that I could always tell when our football team, the 49ers were playing at home. The sky was a color here that it wasn't in other cities, and you could actually see the difference on the television.

When we arrived at Grace Cathedral, a parking space miraculously appeared so that we only had to walk a short distance to the main entrance of the Cathedral. Stairs were not always easy for Helen, as she had a troublesome case of arthritis. As we walked into the vestibule of the church, we could see the Labyrinth lying in repose, beautifully placed behind the pews. It fit perfectly in the space provided. We walked through the magnificent cathedral and found places to spend alone with our thoughts and prayers, preparing for the experience of the Labyrinth.

In reading about it, I learned that the Labyrinth was an ancient tool for finding oneself. It contained a vibrational field that emerged through walking the geometric pattern. Different than a maze, there was only one way to go into the center of the Labyrinth and one way to come out. The path was clearly defined on the purple and gray carpet that lay on the floor of the Cathedral, and individuals had reported many different reactions when walking on it, from deep insight to euphoria, depression and anxiety, deferred understanding, tears, laughter, joy, sorrow and bliss. People moved at varying paces. Some were slow and reflective, others quick and purposeful, a few dancing and swaying. There was no right or wrong way to engage in the process.

We wanted to prepare ourselves for a sacrament. As we saw it, the Labyrinth is truly a sacred reminder from the ancients to remember who we are. After our individual prayer time, we approached the Labyrinth as we felt moved to walk it. Without shoes, the texture of the carpet was evident, and as I walked the first time, I felt the presence of calm and connection in the face of a much larger unfolding mystery we call life, and was awed by the forces we don't understand, that affect us in spite of our ignorance.

As we completed the process, we took time to sit and digest what we'd received. Leaving the Cathedral, we had lunch at a wonderful place on the ocean's edge. It seemed fitting to end the walk with a ceremonial luncheon and good conversation. Each of us had been deepened and had questions answered. Helen felt she had lost her way, because she became disoriented in the process of walking the Labyrinth, and Luke told her this happened sometimes when people release themselves to the process. We drove back on the coastal route, and the water reflected in places like a jewel twinkling in the sunlight. Thus began our monthly adventures to the Labyrinth as a threesome.

Returning to the present, Luke and I confirmed our arrangements for a trip to the Cathedral the following Monday, I decided it would be wise to go back over my notes from each of our previous walks to see if there were further clues related to the Holy Grail. I had a habit of writing down whatever was presented after walking on the Labyrinth, and in pulling out the calendar from the past year, I thumbed through each month since we started our journey. There in my November notes was inscribed, You must uphold the sacred in a profane world not exclude humor, or take yourself so seriously.

The Cathedral had stained glass windows, and in the first few panels were also embedded words that would leap out to me and make a phrase as I put the disconnected pieces together. Nations among freedom employ love. In the last entry from January, I received Maintain after the Rapture. I wasn't able to see how these applied to the present directive, but knew from past experience that things had a way of tying together, so no clue was ever wasted.

The phone rang. One of my subscribers was calling to see if I'd completed the newsletter. I told her I'd gotten momentarily sidetracked, but I would get it out before spring was over.
She paused for a moment and then continued. "You know, this newsletter means a lot to people. I don't know if you really are aware how much the ideas contribute to their lives, and I just want you to know that. You really are a vessel of light."

I thanked her and chuckled aloud. "Yes, and a reluctant one at that!" She said a few more encouraging words and we hung up. I thought about how well meaning people were, but sometimes the pressure caught me in a rebellious space that didn't want the responsibility for making things clear and lighter for others. Yet, as I thought about it, what was the idea behind the Holy Grail? In fact, weren't those words "a vessel of light" something I'd read in conjunction to it? Was this a coincidence? ...Synchronicity in front of our faces all the time, we just need to pay attention?

As I rummaged through my notes for some of the articles, I found a notice for a lecture later in the week, titled After The Rapture, to be held at a local bookstore. Another tie-in, this time to my Labyrinth experience. I jotted down the details on my calendar and made a mental note to be there. The newsletter was shaping up, and as the afternoon was winding down, I decided to go for a walk.

Walking was a wonderful way of clearing the cobwebs. It revitalized and renewed me, and I enjoyed the seasonal variety of trees and flowers in my area. It was also a way of distilling thought. Taking the time to move my body and allow my mind to follow, instead of the other way around, gave a different perspective. There seemed to be partnership that wasn't always evident, especially since I spent so much time in front of my computer. A walk of two or three miles gave me just what I needed.

The next day, I had brunch with my friend John, who'd been in my dream a couple of nights before. Aside from being a brilliant software engineer, he was an accomplished musician, artist/photographer, gourmet cook, and had a keen interest in religion.

John had done a lot of inner work, trying to reconcile his fundamentalist Christian roots with an emerging awareness of unity through Buddhism and other mystical traditions.
After a delicious meal of crab soufflé and chilled melon, I told him about my exploration of the Holy Grail, and asked what he knew about it. He went over to one of the bookshelves housing some rare editions of ancient manuscripts, and thumbed through several until he found what he thought might interest me.

"Here's something you might be able to use. Looks like there is a tie to not only Hermetic tradition, but shades of the Grail in India, China and Ethiopia. In fact, it says that the Grail, as it moved through the ages, became adapted to Christianity and was the underpinning of the Knights Templar. Interestingly enough, they were organized in approximately 1111 and were later hunted down, disbanded and were found amidst the Gnostics."

John handed me the book, and as I read, I thought the correspondences were really intriguing. There were tie-ins to the Ark of the Covenant and a physical Grail that may have ended in Ethiopia. The date 1111 seemed somehow timely, what with so much recent interest in 11:11. What I thought would be an intriguing little hunt seemed to have become a multi-pronged search.

I had heard of the Gnostics and the Knights Templar, but had no idea what they were. The Ark of the Covenant had also floated around in various things I read, but I knew very little about what that really meant either. 11:11 was a phenomenon that had begun to occur when digital clocks became popular, and I knew there was significance related to timing and an awakening it supposedly represented. Could it have something to do with the Grail? I didn't know.

After brunch, I went to the bookstore for the Sunday shift. This was my place of repose, one of my sacred spaces. Everyone who came into the store commented on the feeling of its being a place of renewal in the midst of chaos... a sanctuary in an ocean of activity. I agreed. Often there were serendipitous meetings or gatherings with interesting people who happened to converge at the same time. We'd had many a glorious discussion group that developed spontaneously, and in review, I acknowledged how many of my friends I'd met through the store.

I thought perhaps someone would come in who had more knowledge about the Grail. At this point, I was thoroughly engaged because it was like a detective story. I was looking forward to what the next clue might be. The day went along without much activity, and I became engrossed in some of my regular chores. The phone rang, and it was one of our customers who called periodically with interesting bits of information related to where the world was going. I told him about my quest and he said I ought to check it out on the Internet. Of course! Why didn't I think of that? I finished up the day and headed for home, eager to get on the World Wide Web.

As I typed in my password, I wondered if there was a forum I hadn't seen about the Grail. Scrolling through the various offerings in a Metaphysical section, there it was, The Grail Quest, with about 49 messages. How strange we are, I thought. We only see what we want to see, and as many times as I'd logged on to the forums, I'd never noticed that one.

Starting at the top, there were interesting messages... some reiterating what I'd already found, but one in particular intrigued me. Someone referred to a book tying the Labyrinth to the Grail, only available to members of a secret society. How fascinating, especially since I was planning to go with my friends to walk it the next day.

After checking out what was available, I left my own message asking for any information that would add to what I already knew, and then moved over to the section on Labyrinths, where I left a general message asking if anyone knew about the connection between the two. There were enough authorities in the field who checked in. Someone was bound to know something.

That night I had another dream. In it I saw a vision of a cup outside my window. It was resting in midair, and was the form of a Silver Chalice. At first I didn't give it much attention, but realized that I must look carefully, because it wouldn't always be there. As I viewed it in the dream, I became filled with light, to the point where I knew I could fly, and gradually I lifted off the ground and moved gracefully around the room, doing somersaults in the air and swooping down between the furniture, never hitting anything. Gently, I landed on my feet and I knew that I could do this at will as long as I remembered the message of the Grail.

In the dream, there was another person doing yoga, who was rolled up like a pretzel on a bed. She was so intent in her practice that she didn't see the Chalice, for she was facing the wall. I sensed I didn't have to be involved in a complex process, for through the Grail, I would gain everything I needed.

Waking, I jotted down my perception of the dream. It seemed to clearly indicate that when I looked at the Chalice and concentrated on its content, I was transformed into something no longer earthbound. It was on the other side of the window, signifying to me that it was not in the same realm as I was. Therefore, I couldn't find it in physical reality, but there was a window that would allow me to view it, if I would look.

Also, I had to be aware of when it was there, for it wasn't always evident. This implied the need to pay attention to my intuition, which is the bridge between the two worlds. The scene with the person doing yoga on the bed seemed to indicate that we have to be careful not to get lulled by the various disciplines we are involved with to the point of missing opportunities that are presented through a different view.

At 10 o'clock Luke arrived. We picked up Helen and then headed for San Francisco. It was May, when the weather would alternate between hot and cool. Weather could be 80 degrees on the peninsula, while the city was blanketed in fog, driving the temperature down to the high '50s or low '60s, so in summer, going to San Francisco always required taking a jacket, just in case.

This day was no exception. As we drove north, the fog crept over the coastal mountains, significantly cooling everything. Downtown San Francisco was immune to dense fog for the most part, and as we climbed Nob Hill, the weather was glorious with the fresh blue sky I'd come to associate with the city. Again, we found a parking space close to the entrance of the church and proceeded in our normal fashion to ready ourselves for the Labyrinth experience.
Helen and Luke walked first this time. I felt the need to walk later, as something was bubbling under the surface, and I looked up at the stained glass windows. Open to Light's Radiance, streamed down upon me and I jotted it on a small notepad so I wouldn't forget. As my friends completed the Labyrinth, so did others who had been walking it. I moved forward and took my shoes off as requested, and placed each foot upon the path for another round of insight.

As I walked, I held the Holy Grail within my consciousness, open to whatever it might want me to know, and as I moved thoughtfully along the path, I had the insight that I needed to clear the way... to make of myself a perfected vessel and attune to the light that was presenting itself on earth now. This was not a request, it was a mandate, and I was being told to refine my ways, as it was a requirement for the continuance of life. Some were called to act as forerunners, but what was given would apply to all life and would become more evident as the new millennium unfolded.

I felt responsibility for what I'd heard and sat afterward in quiet contemplation, trying to digest the implications, and then sought out Helen and Luke who were ready to make our customary browse through the church gift shop.

"Well," Luke asked, "did you get an insight?"

"More than I wanted. How about you?" He nodded. "Mm-hum. Helen did, too."

She looked at me seriously. "They aren't fooling around anymore," she said. "We don't have time."

I knew what she meant. This was a very different feeling from our past visits, and from the response of my two friends, each of us was being pushed to make adjustments in our lives that would allow for attunement to something greater.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect this." Luke shook his head in wonder. None of us were novices in the presence of Spirit, each having our share of experiences, and tests of faith. The intensity of this time period had come upon us suddenly, however, and I don't think any of us was prepared for the urgency of the directives we were given.

"What did you get, Luke?" I asked.

"Well, I'm told that I must change my patterns of eating. As I perceived the message, I have to eat food that is consciously cultivated."

Helen chuckled. "Yes, they told me that, too. In addition, I have to stop smoking, because it's blocking my metabolism and interfering with the proper function of my liver."

Helen was of an age where cigarettes had been the "in" thing to do. It was a pastime that she thoroughly enjoyed and had tried repeatedly to give up because of pressure from her family and younger friends. Now, she seemed to have a different perspective, and was quiet as she reflected upon the full meaning of this directive for her.

Luke was equally still. He loved good food and at times tended to binge on his favorite "goodies." Now he was being directed to be aware of his eating habits, and to eat only what was raised consciously.

"Well," I said to them both, "if I'm supposed to be open to the light now available, I assume what you've been told applies to me as well." They both nodded. We were all quiet. As we drove out of the city towards the coastal route, fog covered the entire road.

"I think we'll take 280," Luke said. "We can't see anything on the coast route today."

We came back to the Peninsula, and stopped at a favorite outdoor restaurant, since the weather was warm and the food was generally well-prepared and top quality.
"What do you make of it all," I asked?

Helen, who had been especially quiet, spoke. "I see this as an absolute directive. I've known that something big was happening behind the scenes, I've had the feeling in my readings and in my meditation. I've been agitated and unable to sleep, and felt as though I was revved up at a high rate of speed. It's been uncomfortable because something is in the process of shifting. It's as though it's happening, and somebody forgot to tell us so that we'd have enough time to pack all our belongings in leisure. Now, we're given 24-hours notice. Do you know what I mean?"

We did. Both of us had also noticed that things seemed to be speeding up, and I had even commented at an earlier get together that we all knew things were going to heat up in the '90s, but nobody knew how fast it was going to happen. Now we were in the midst of it.
In the early '90s we were still crossing the threshold, but by the end of the decade, everything began to move much faster. We had been preparing for the long-awaited shift of the ages. It seemed intriguing in the past as we used to speak of it, but now it was urgent and uncomfortable, for the immanence of change was upon us.

"So, what are you both going to do," I asked?

They looked at me and answered simultaneously, "What we've been told!"

Luke added. "I'm going to do it because I know it's right, and when I got the insight, I could see the purpose for the directive. It isn't something unreasonable. I saw the whole food chain and the compromises that we are making in relation to it. There is no communion and no dignity. The plants and animals are being treated like non-entities. They are merely numbers in some game of accounting.

"There is indifference to them as living creatures, and they are being housed in pathetic conditions. We are eating animals that have been raised on fear and antibiotics!

"Vegetables from commercial farms are raised in the same framework of chemicals and pesticides, so we are eating produce that looks bigger, but has very little vitamin content in relation to the vegetables raised without artificial fertilizer. It's no small wonder there are more cancers and immune-deficiency diseases. We are slowly destroying ourselves through our indifference to our food sources."

Luke was not one to go on about things at this length, as he was a pretty practical individual. Obviously, something had touched him deeply and made an indelible impression. No one said anything for a while, and when the waiter came to ask what we'd like, we all ordered organic greens.

Helen commented about the body being a temple. "I know now why I'm being asked to stop smoking. I could see how the cigarettes are interfering with the natural repair process in my body. It is constantly stressed; having to work overtime to try to rid the toxins I keep sucking in. I never saw that before. It's as though my body is this wonderful being that's trying so hard to support me, and I'm unconsciously putting something in it that is keeping it from doing its job. Things are beginning to break down, and it doesn't have the reserves to keep up with the demand. For God's sake, I just never realized what I was doing!"

She shook her head and looked down at her hands. "I think it's part of what's contributed to the arthritis. That and coffee. I could actually see how the things that I put into my mouth were being absorbed by my body. It wasn't a pretty picture, I'll tell you! Oh, my." Again, she lapsed into quiet and it was my turn to speak.

"You know, when I got that I need to be a clear vessel, I could see myself as a cup, and I could see the importance of the quality of my choices. Things I take for granted like water and air are important. A vision of how much we compromise ecologically came home to me as it did to both of you. It was as though the contaminants keep us from being tuned to something that is important. Part of this has to do with refinement. I am just not quite sure about all the details."

After lunch, Luke dropped us off. There were calls waiting for me on the answering machine, but I felt I needed the rest of the afternoon to myself. I was tired, and wanted to close my eyes for a few moments before I tackled anything. Reflecting on the past week, it seemed that an awful lot of information was coming in with a strong sense of urgency. I wondered why. Slowly, I let go of my thoughts and drifted into sleep.

Dreaming, I found myself confronted by two cups. One was leaden in color and the other was brilliant silver. As I moved closer, the leaden one seemed lifeless and austere. Its contents were murky. The other, of brilliant silver, resonated a tone that was reminiscent of sounds I'd heard when certain bells were played in cathedrals. It was beautiful, melodic and inviting.

Also, a radiant light shone from it that seemed to have no source. It was very bright, yet comforting, and a clear liquid streamed over the sides, positively affecting everything it touched. The leaden cup was isolated, however. It was unable to benefit from the other cup's presence because it had been weakened by its contents and it couldn't be attuned.
 

The phone rang and awakened me. Wondering if it was morning, I groped my hand toward the receiver and mumbled into the telephone. It was my friend, Michele.

"Do you remember that there is a lecture tomorrow evening at the Metaphysical Bookstore?" she said. I had been so overwhelmed with everything else that I had forgotten.

"Let's go together. Would you like dinner before?" she continued, and we agreed to meet at one of our favorite little midtown restaurants, then go to hear the lecture After the Rapture.

Life was not letting me off the hook. Things were moving at a dizzying pace, so I decided to get a notebook that would be used specifically for jotting down the coinciding events and messages I was receiving. I found one that would serve the purpose, and gathered the bits and pieces of information I had accumulated related to this search.

• The meditation in which I was told to find the Holy Grail
• Reminding someone in my dream to remember who they really were
• The importance of translation; to get a Lamsa Bible
• Grail and Hermetic philosophy
• Grail and Gnosticism, Templars
• Grail and the Ark of the Covenant
• Grail and 11:11

Directives at the Labyrinth, including the following in the order received:

1. Uphold the Sacred in a profane world
2. Do not exclude humor, or take yourself too seriously
3. Nations among freedom employ love
4. Maintain after the Rapture
5. Open to Light's Radiance
6. Clear the way
7. Make of Self a perfected vessel
8. Attune to the Light presenting itself to earth now
9. Eat consciously

Now I had something to use as a base for confirming and adding to the body of knowledge I was gaining through this process.

The next evening, I met Michele at the restaurant, and we fell into easy conversation over dinner. She spoke of events she'd been involved with since our last get-together and gave me a copy of her latest newsletter. With Michele, I could share everything. We had similar experiences and a lot in common, although she was born in France and I in America.

She could recall great texture in her formative years, and then, having come to this country before World War II, she was in a unique position to blend the best of both worlds during the vital time of repair and growth that followed the war.

Having a flair for writing, she landed a job in New York as an editor, became an accomplished author with several books to her credit, and developed a passion for philosophical pursuits. We shared many similar paths from the past that contributed to our present level of awareness. We both edited small newsletters, and had our own following in the teachings we shared with others.

Michele was a prime example of equality in friendship. We respected and admired one another and were able to talk about things that we couldn't express with many others. We were peers, even though we had a considerable age difference. I found it amazing that when individuals were kindred spirits, age had no meaning. My older and younger friends of that caliber were all one ­ no age, no gender, no separation based on anything other than the quality of our interactions. We were at home and had found aspects of ourselves reflected back to us in one another. These were people who were part of our soul families. I was grateful for them, as they made my journey through life a little sweeter.

Dinner over, we proceeded to the bookstore where the lecture was being given by a man named Roland Ivory. I was intrigued about him based on the title of his talk, After The Rapture, which matched what I received at the Labyrinth. As we approached, we could see that others were also interested in the subject. There was already a huge line of people waiting for tickets.

"My goodness, I thought we'd be early," I murmured.

Michele laughed. "Well, it looks as though we're not the only ones who want to hear what Mr. Ivory has to offer. I'd say that is a pretty good indication that something is going on, wouldn't you?"

She was right. The Bay Area often had a unique role in presenting the next step of unfoldment in whatever way was important for the future. We were on the brink of a new focus as we spoke. We nodded to other people we knew who were there, and one of the regulars to the lecture series came over. He was a transplanted Englishman from the Philippines, who had arrived in California during the heyday of the '60s. Paul knew everything that was going on, and tended to dwell on conspiracy theories and ideas.
"Did you know that the government is involved in secret testing of high frequency sound waves in Alaska?"

He didn't even wait for hellos. "This is very disturbing because it's affecting the ozone layer and the atmosphere. It's interfering with animal migration and damaging people's health."
He glowered and shook his head. I jokingly referred to him as Chief Thunder Cloud, but often he wasn't far wrong about things that were happening.

"I hope this evening isn't going to be about that," I said.

"No, not really. But Ivory is aware of it. It's having an effect on things."

Someone else who Paul recognized joined the line, and he was off to spread his concerns there.

"You know, it's very sad that this man dwells on what is wrong. It obviously causes him a great deal of suffering." Michele had compassion for him. "Did he go through the war?" she asked.

"Yes," I nodded, "I believe he was in a prisoner of war camp in the Pacific during the latter part of World War II. He's that age."

"Well, that explains a great deal," said Michele. "You can look at people and often find that they are riveted by the events that occurred in the beginning of their lives. They tend to replay similar scenarios over and over again regardless of present circumstances."

The line moved forward as the room opened for the lecture. We paid for our tickets and inched towards the front, finding two seats in good position to see the lectern. Soon the room was filled, and as the clock struck eight o'clock, our speaker emerged from a side door, dressed casually in dark slacks and a loose fitting shirt. He had long brown/silver hair, a mustache, and compelling green eyes. He also had a smile that would disarm anyone. As he spoke, I recognized that this was someone I wanted to know.

His lecture centered around the changes that we were experiencing on Earth and how they tied in to the so called "end times" mentioned in many places, the Bible being one of them. I took some notes.

1. The Rapture was both a time and a process that individuals could choose to be part of through the preparation within their bodies, minds and spirits of attuning to higher vibrations. 
2. There were tones and codes that would affect subtle body centers.
3. There were individuals who had been pre-encoded with the information so that there would be "trigger" events, or elements that would cause those people to remember who they really were and why they were here.

Some of those triggers were fairly simple, such as the digital clock reading of 11:11. People would respond to that number combination and wonder where they had seen it before or what it meant to them. From that point, other elements would become apparent. There would be more synchronistic events in the lives of those people, including:

• meaningful coincidences
• fortuitous encounters
• a sense of urgency about preparing for some event that was yet to come

I could agree to much of what he said, having just experienced the sense of urgency with Helen and Luke. Also, since the early '80s when I'd gotten my digital clock, I always seemed to look at it when it was 11:11. It happened too often to be coincidental, and I found the number combination fascinating.

I remember asking people if they had that experience also. Some just looked at me blankly, but there were people who also noticed it, and a chance encounter in the bookstore with a flyer that asked the very question, "Are you aware of 11:11?" made me jump when I saw it. Perhaps there was something significant to it after all.

In calling the number posted, I found that it was a group whose ideas did not coincide with mine, but I was grateful to know others had also been impacted. Now Ivory was confirming the purpose for that 'contact.'

Meaningful coincidences were a constant in my life. Things were often synchronistic. Earlier in the day, I had two calls, and when talking with the first individual about my newsletter, I related the directive to find the Holy Grail, and she asked me if I'd seen the latest issue of Ariadne's Web, a quarterly magazine. She said the entire issue was dedicated to the Grail. That gave me insight as to why the two other people had gone to the bookstore searching for information about the Grail.

Later in the day, I received a call from a former colleague and mentioned to him the same directive. He said it was quite coincidental that he'd just been watching a show on the Knights Templar, and in the last episode of the investigation the focus was on the Holy Grail and its implication in relation to Jesus and Mary Magdalene. In this hypothesis, she was thought to be the Grail, and supposedly had children who transmitted the lineage of Jesus throughout history. It was to the heirs of that union that the Templars were bound to serve and protect. Because of their views, they were hunted by the orthodox church and driven underground, later to be found amidst the Gnostics, another outlawed religious group. He said he'd made a copy of the show and would loan it to me. I was curious to see it, because the implication was quite mind-boggling!

These were affirmations to me, signals that I was on the right track. I didn't yet know how Roland Ivory's lecture fit in to the whole scenario, but I'd find out when the timing was right. At this point, I was just gathering my clues. This would go into my notebook tonight with the rest.

After the lecture, people milled around Ivory during the book signing and asked more questions. The book, After The Rapture, presented in greater detail what he had discussed in the lecture. It looked like it would be worth owning, so I picked up a copy and waited for my turn to meet him. As we moved closer to the front of the line, I had an uncanny feeling that something of major significance was about to occur.

The man in front of us suddenly became quite agitated and launched into a tirade against aspects of Ivory's lecture. The author tried to reason with the man, who seemed to grow more and more belligerent. In one hair-raising second, the man raised his fist to assault Ivory, and with equal speed, Ivory placed his hand in a way that blocked the thrusting fist, and intoned a sound that made the man stand frozen for what seemed like eternity.

Everyone was stunned, and after the silence, the man seemed dazed and mumbled some apology. He was escorted out of the store after Ivory told the manager he did not want to involve the authorities. He closed his eyes for a moment and a pale light emanated from him. Then, it was as though nothing had happened. He sat down at the table where he had been signing books and looked up at me, fully recovered.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Ancient method for deflecting hostility. Works like a charm." He laughed and discarded the event as one of the things that happens when revolutionary information is presented.

I asked if he had workshops, and he looked at me thoughtfully.

"Yes, I do. But I have a hunch that you need to come down to New Mexico where I live. I'm going to have a gathering with a few selected people. I think you are one of them."

I was momentarily taken aback, but as I looked into his eyes, the intensity of connection to a much deeper purpose awakened remembrance in me. Instead of rejecting the invitation, I agreed that he was right. We exchanged phone numbers, and he wrote a few words in the book I'd handed him. After I paid for my purchase, Michele and I headed back to the car. She was reflective after the events, and I could tell she had something on her mind.

"You need to go there," she said quietly. "There is something very important waiting for you in New Mexico, and Roland Ivory is a missing piece to a much larger puzzle.