Ancient Wisdom

06: Chapter from the novel "In The Wake Of Chaos"

[This is Chapter 6 of my novel, “In The Wake Of Chaos.” I encourage you to go back and read the previous chapters already posted in order to get the full richness of this magical story.]

“a fresh look at old discoveries...”

It didn’t take long for Derrick’s offer to arrive. And of course, I gladly accepted it. During the first few weeks on the job, I found him to be an intriguingly ambitious, yet approachable, very thoughtful and a critical-thinker type. We shared several business lunches together, and how refreshing it was being able to work side-by-side without having my guard up all the time.

Even if he was extremely good-looking and available.

In these conversations I also learned a few personal details about him. One such nugget was that he had a twin brother, but unfortunately their relationship wasn’t all that great. Not for lack of trying, because apparently, he had.

Part of the problem was that Damien, the minutes younger of the two, not only had a hermit personality, but was also mentally unstable with a history of having at times a violent temper.

Besides of that tiny tidbit, everything else about my new boss was very appealing. Confident, smart, good-looking, successful, and someone who allows me to be myself.

During my first few days on the job, I befriended Nathan, a sort of fly on the wall type, who seemed also incredibly intelligent. He was more of the nerdy type, in a good way, and very helpful when it came to technology. I must remember to keep his cell number handy. Especially if I get in a jam while trying to navigate the ins and outs of this podcasting thing.

The first project tossed my direction was an interesting military research piece that’ll launch my newly titled blog, “The Burlap Sack: Raw, Real, and Rough Around the Edges.”

Apparently, there’s some interesting things happening that curiously our government has kept a lid on. So, in the interest of public awareness and transparency, Derrick thought it’d be a good avenue to explore.  

Hell yes!!

I’m so down for that.

Always one for learning what’s really going on.

The first person who came to mind was my lieutenant friend Lillian, at Fort Sam Houston. Perhaps she’d be willing to help. And, it’d be great to connect with her again.

At any rate, I’m sure to meet some interesting people. Hopefully, one’s who can help me discover the real truth of what’s happening in the world.

So, why not.

It’ll be fun.

Then again, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s switch back to the present.

One of the brightest spots in my world right now is my weekly “tea for two” meetups with Clarissa, my favorite spiritual mentor. At least that’s what I like to call these memorable get-togethers. “Tea for two.”

Clarissa was certainly quite a remarkable woman with such a treasure chest of knowledge to share. Together, we’ve enjoyed some of the most fascinating conversations I’ve had in my entire life. Sorry mom. Sorry Allie.

Once again, time stands still when we’re together.

It’s odd, but exhilarating.

I can actually feel the energy flow from this woman’s entire being. It’s what I suspect provides most, if not all, of her guidance—and I remain in a state of awe just sitting beside her and listening to what she has to say.

Tea for two.

One of my favorite new activities. We talk about a lot of things, but the best for me is when we get into the areas that intersect between both science and spirituality.

Why does this fascinate me so much?

Heck if I know.

It wasn’t long before Clarissa revealed to me a simple practice, an ancient spiritual process that helps us receive intuitive messages—both from within ourselves and from beyond that which our human mind can conceive.  

She told me it was preserved in a set of sacred scrolls that are invaluable for navigating the chaos of life.

How amazing is that? Apparently, this simple, yet profound practice helps us tap into an expanded awareness of life and the true essence of who we really are—and in fact why we’re here. That sparked an idea.

Maybe this could be another story for the Burlap Sack?

I so love how Clarissa has a natural way of implanting ideas within me that open hidden cracks of understanding. Cracks which lead to larger realizations. And ones that ultimately hold a key to what our world might need in order to evolve gracefully.

Clarissa then dropped in my lap another, what I like to call, “breadcrumb of intrigue.”

And something I wasn’t expecting at all.

She said, “These ancient texts are said to be concealed in the caves high above the village of Magdala. There are ten in total. You must go there to find these scrolls and fulfill your own sacred contract.”

What? Me? Sacred contract?

And, where the heck is Magdala?

What in the world was she talking about?

Yet, I’d always felt an inner yearning to visit the sacred sites of the Holy Land. I hadn’t given it much real thought until now, but perhaps the timing is right to go in search of what Clarissa called the “lost books of spiritual truth.”

The idea has a nice ring to it. Derrick loved it, too.

So much so, he even gave me a generous travel budget and an assistant just in case we needed to keep following these “breadcrumbs” to wherever. Ha, what a like-minded coincidence he should say that! But there is no such thing as a coincidence, right? Speaking of wherever, I found out Magdala, which apparently is the birthplace of Mary Magdalene, is near the Sea of Galilee.

And so, Derrick arranged for me to leave as soon as next week for the Judean Desert region of Israel.

Holy cow!

Is that a sacrilegious statement?

Not my intention. Please forgive me if so.

On the day before I was to depart, Derrick invited me out for drinks at the Green Dragon, a cute little pub in downtown Boston. Evidently, it was also a secret meeting place of the revolutionists, and the place they’d go on a regular basis to strategize how to win their independence.

From what I’ve been told, back in the late 1700s, this Green Dragon pub is where a curious young lad overheard two British soldiers discussing their plot to take out the Colonists arsenal of weapons.

As the story goes, this boy immediately then told the establishment’s owner, which initiated the famous midnight ride where legend has it Paul Revere cried out, “The British are coming. The British are coming!!””

Fun fact.  

Paul Revere didn’t actually complete the ride he’s made famous for. In truth, he was captured and put in jail before completing the mission. But Longfellow’s poem, needed a name that rhymed. Yep, that’s right. So, he inserted Paul’s name instead of the rider who successfully alerted the colonial minutemen that the redcoats were on the way.

As Derrick and I enjoyed our drinks, he caught eyes with his twin brother who was coincidentally back in the corner of the pub. Not wanting to be impolite, he waved Damien over to introduce him to me. We exchanged a quick hello and that was that. But I’ve got to admit, and I don’t know why, he did give me the creeps. Chills ran down my spine at the strong energy that cloaked this man. And I see now Derrick wasn’t exaggerating when he said Damien had a dark side to his personality.

Shortly after that brief encounter, I gracefully excused myself so I could get back to pack for my overseas flight the following day. But if I’m being honest, I could have stayed longer, as I was thoroughly enjoying my time with Derrick.

What a difference a great boss makes.

But no time for any dilly-dallying.

Time to go home and pack.

As I left the tavern, I couldn’t help let go of the feeling someone or something was following me as I walked to my car. That was odd, as I was not usually one to imagine things that weren’t there. It wasn’t until I was back at the carriage house that I finally relaxed and let my guard down.

Gotta shake that one off.

There’s too much good in my life right now.

It’s way better to stay in the energy and excitement of the trip before me, rather than dwell on the creepy feelings I’d endured just a short time ago.

Soon enough, it was morning and all I felt were positive thoughts as I arrived at my departure gate and met my new assistant, Miriam, for the first time—who I’m happy to report is a charming person of middle eastern descent and fluent in Hebrew. What a relief. I’d assumed it would be imperative to explore the Holy Land with someone who could not only help navigate the cultural differences but also spoke the language. Clarissa basically said the same thing by saying it’d be essential to have someone there with me, who not only had my back, but who I could trust as well.

My first impression of Miriam is that she fit the bill.

Once we landed in Tel Aviv and got into the car Derrick arranged for us, our driver, Ramon, who seemed to be in his middle to late 30s, quite simply said, “Welcome home.”

Much to my surprise, barely perceptible tears began to fall upon my cheeks. This was so not like me. I can’t even remember the time I last cried.

Oh yah, don’t remind me.

Election night. That’s when I cried like a baby.

But this was a different emotion rising to the surface. It felt like somehow, I’d come home. How could that be? There isn’t a shred of middle eastern DNA in me, nor do I know much about the history of this region either.

Confirming my initial suspicion that Miriam and I are kindred souls, I noticed she too was having silent tears.

This land appears to be as powerful as they say.

Something tells me we’re going to have a fascinating trip and that there’s going to be more to this journey than first imagined. But I’ll attempt to reflect on that more in the morning once I get over my inevitable jet lag.

Thankfully, I slept like a baby.

After a light breakfast the next morning, Ramon swiftly gathered our bags and off we went to explore the hillsides of Magdala. Learning a bit more since it was first mentioned in my conversation with Clarissa, besides being the town where Mary Magdalene was born, Magdala also ties in the biblical person who offered up the crypt where Jesus would later rise from the dead.  

Research shows, her father, Joseph of Arimathea, was in the shipping trade and it was his tomb near Jerusalem where Jesus lay after the crucifixion. Magdala was also near the shores of the Sea of Galilee and the Jordan River where John the Baptist proclaimed that Jesus was the Messiah.

Interesting stuff.

Along the way to our destination, we had the pleasure of getting to know our guide, Ramon, a bit better. He told us he had lived his entire life in Israel and saw with his own eyes many a conflict rise and fall upon these sacred lands.

He went on to provide a wealth of knowledge about the entire region and its historical roots. But what came as a shock was that he also knew Clarissa!

What a small world it is.

Or, perhaps another coincidence?

Years earlier, Ramon had been her guide too.

They’d became good friends and from time to time still stayed in touch. He spoke fondly of her, and you could detect he had that same sense of reverence I had for her. Similarly to what I’d felt, he confirmed it was as if he was in the presence of a living master when they were together.

I shared with both he and Miriam some of the details of my tea talks with Clarissa, especially the aspects relating to our search for the “lost books of spiritual truth.”

Ramon then divulged even more details she’d informed him of about this over the years. Some I already knew, and some of which I didn’t.

He also told us about a group of archaeologists who were looking for these same ancient scrolls—and that just the other day, they’d told him some very encouraging news about a discovery of multiple previously hidden caves. Ones that appeared to be completely untouched over centuries past. And, it just so happened, two of these individuals were going to meet us in Magdala later today.

Once again, how does it get any better than this?

It was early evening when we finally arrived, and as Ramon promised, the other two were already there eagerly waiting to meet up with us. The disappointing thing was our climb up to the caves themselves would have to wait until the tomorrow once the sunlight returned.

Ugh. So close, and yet so far.

However, upon reflection of the day, what struck me most was how untouched by the hands of mankind this area of land was. The well-worn dirt path—known as the Road to Damascus—and hillsides on either side were exactly as one would imagine them to be when Jesus and his disciples inhabited this sacred land.

The awe I felt in that moment was palpable.

Pinch me.

Have I somehow left this reality?

The next morning, I eagerly awoke as the sun gently rose above the calming shores of the Sea of Galilee and rays of sunlight gently fell upon my face. Like a child, anticipating the magic of Christmas, I could barely contain my excitement for what this day might reveal.

After a brief visit to the hotel’s breakfast buffet, we were off again to rendezvous with the two individuals from last night. Meeting up with them along the dirt path under the shade of the olive trees, it was there I noticed a small herd of goats lazily grazing on the desert shrubs and on the leaves on the trees. A surreal moment for sure.

Not long after, my attention was drawn towards a lone shepherd who was tending these goats. The entire moment was crazy and as if I’d literally been transported back in time to the Judean desert of more than 2,000 years ago.

My excitement could not be any stronger, as I began the steep ascent along an ancient path leading up the mountain. And to where the caves were located. Midway up, I could hear Clarissa’s words swirling in my head,

“It is your destiny. Finding these hidden scrolls will be a big step towards fulfilling your sacred contract.”

With both Ramon and Miriam, merely a few steps behind me, it was as if I were being guided by an unseen force as to where I needed to go. Even though I’d never been here before, the steps seemed familiar.

With no hesitation on my part once we reached the entrance to the caves, I lowered my head and stepped in.

Flashlights in hand, we carefully made our way through the maze of the inner rooms and passageways. Each of us, preoccupied with our own thoughts, took slightly different paths. Occasionally I’d see some remnants of pottery and ancient artifacts. Most of which seemed rather well preserved, which surprised me. After all this time, surely many treasure seekers had come across this spot.

And yet, it seemed more or less untouched.

Following my intuition, I was led towards the back of what appeared to be a relatively small living space. It was there that I sat down and waited for more guidance on what to do next. My gaze landed on a pile of stones to the right of me. As I got closer for a better look, one rock in particular stood out so I reached over to pick it up. Once I did, a cascade of movement began as some of the stones fell away, and a small crawl space was revealed.

Without hesitation I got on my hands and knees and followed a tiny pathway that led to another small cavern. Just off to one corner, and much to my delight, there were several, what seemed to be, untouched jars of clay.

Upon further inspection, two of them were empty, but the third contained three tightly rolled pieces of papyrus. Of course, there were layers of dust, but as if by magic, they appeared to have a golden glow about them, especially around the outer edges.

Could this be the scrolls Clarissa was talking about?

I carefully picked each one up and brought them back to where the others were. Much to everyone’s delight we reveled in just how effortless this discovery had been.

As if by divine magic.

Upon further examination, Ramon told us it was written in the ancient language of Aramaic. The significance of this discovery had yet to sink in.

Miriam delicately helped Ramon put the scrolls in his knapsack, and after completing our search of these caves, the five of us carefully made our way back down the rocky hillside. While doing so, I tried to recall what Clarissa had said. Wasn’t there supposed to be ten?

I’ll need to give her a call to confirm.

As we got back to where the cars were awaiting our eventual return, the two others assured us they would file the necessary forms with the local authorities to document and record the discovery we had made—and we all agreed to meet the next day to discuss what to do from there.

Later that afternoon, as we waited for another friend of Ramon’s to arrive at the hotel to inspect the scrolls and decipher what was written on them, I decided to take a leisurely walk along the edge of the shoreline. Almost instantly, the strange and uneasy sensation returned, of someone watching me.

Until that moment, I’d been so caught up with traveling and the adventure of it all, I’d not given that eerie feeling I had experienced outside that Boston pub a second thought. But now, in an instant, it came rushing back and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

Was someone, or something, following me?

A quick glance around turned up nothing unusual, and moments later the feeling was gone. I then made my way back to the outdoor patio area of the hotel to watch as the sun was setting off in the distance. The waters were calm, but for some reason, I still felt a knot of apprehension developing in the pit of my stomach.

Seconds later, I heard Ramon calling out to me as he walked up from behind where I was sitting.

There was an urgency in his voice.

“I’m so glad I found you! Come quick. Miriam needs to speak with you urgently,” Ramon pleaded.

We made our way back to the lobby where Miriam was just getting off a call, and the sadness in her eyes made me worried. In a steady, but quiet voice she said, “Madison, I’m afraid I have some rather bad news to share.”

What in the world?

What is it?

Evidently, Derrick had tried to reach me directly, but his call had gone straight to voicemail. That is why he reached out to Miriam to relay the message—despite it being so sensitive in nature. Time was of the essence.

Miriam passed along to me how Derrick had received a cryptic message from his brother Damien, something like “needing to keep the truth hidden away.”

At first, Derrick shrugged it off as mentally disturbed nonsense. But then, he got a second text revealing the probable nature of Damien’s whereabouts.

It appears Damien followed us here.

Wow!

And that’s what caused him to be concerned.

Maybe I wasn’t imaging a dark energy following me around after all. Do I have a possible stalker situation developing?

Unsettled with this new bit of information, I quickly returned to my room to retrieve my phone and talk with Derrick myself. He picked up on the first ring.

“Madison? I’m so glad you got my message.”

All I could manage to say was, “What the hell is going on? What do you mean your brother followed us here?” Derrick went on to tell me the details, and those ominous feelings returned. Clarissa warned me that dark forces would try to stop us from revealing the truth. Is this part of what she was talking about?

Before I could even answer my question, there was a rapid knock at the door. It was Ramon. He looked like he’d seen a ghost—or had lost a family member from the look of distress in his eyes.

I told Derrick I’d call him right back.

As Ramon came through the door, he said, “Please sit down Madison. I’ve got some more bad news.” He went on, “After we spoke a few minutes ago, I felt compelled to return to my room just to make sure the scrolls were still safely stored within my knapsack.”

A sickening feeling began to rise in my stomach as he continued, “But the scrolls are no longer there. Nothing remained inside. It was empty, and yet there were no signs of forced entry to my room and nothing else appeared disturbed. It’s as if they vanished on their own.”

My heart sunk at that moment.

All is lost.

I’ve failed my mission.

And, Clarissa.

The ringing cellphone in my hand snapped me out of the rising panic I felt.

It was Allison calling.

That’s odd.

“Hello? Allie, what’s going on?”

Now, if losing the scrolls wasn’t bad enough, or being stalked, Allison now informs me that mysteriously Clarissa has gone missing and is perhaps in grave danger.

Allison went on to say, “The last time anyone saw her was the day you left on your trip.”

What the hell?

They say bad things come in three’s…

Allison went on by saying the only thing Clarissa’s housekeeper could find in terms of her whereabouts was a handwritten note she left on the nightstand beside her bed. It was safely tucked away in the pages of her treasured 1854 first edition of Walden, the book written by Henry David Thoreau. But as weird as that is, it was Allie’s next words piqued my interest.

“Remember the ‘Thoreau Code?’”

Silly question. Of course I do.

The note was left carefully between the highlighted portion of the page which said,

“will pass an invisible boundary where new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves…”

According to Allie, it was Clarissa’s housekeeper, Cherie, who thought it an important detail to make me aware of.

But of course she did.

Oh, thank you, sweet Cherie.

Was that a clue as to what had happened?

I honestly didn’t know, but maybe.

Somehow…

In the note Clarissa left, it said how imperative it was that she “speak with Madison before it’s too late.” But how would that be possible if she has disappeared or gone into hiding—and I’m half-way across the globe?

Conflicted, but sensing the urgency of this, I knew the mystery of the stolen scrolls would have to wait. Clarissa’s life might be in danger, and again time was of the essence.

Ramon and Miriam assured me they’d handle things on this end and handle everything with the local authorities. They both insisted I quickly return home to attempt to locate Clarissa and make sure everything is okay.

Despite being torn between a choice of recovering the missing sacred scrolls or possibly saving my new friend’s life, I returned stateside the very same day. Derrick was kind enough to pick me up at the airport and told me they were no closer to finding out what happened to Clarissa or knowing where she might have gone.

Not the news I was looking for.

Despite my tiredness, upon my return home I felt compelled to visit the main house first. Remember what Einstein said about everything is energy? Being physically in her living quarters might help me tap into the energy of what had occurred. Thoughtfully Derrick offered to run out and get me take-out food for dinner while I settled in.

As I sat in the room where Clarissa and I last shared tea and crumpets, the silence turned into a stream of what could only be described as “inspired” thoughts.

Pulling out the writing journal from my travel bag, I began to write down these thoughts as fast as possible. While doing this, I remembered something else.

On the flight home, I’d dreamed of the location where another set of scrolls were hidden. And, in the rush to get back to Clarissa’s place, I’d forgotten to relay that message to both Ramon and Miriam.

Yes, I know it was only a dream, but it felt so real. As if I’d been there before. And, as crazy as it sounds, it would be irresponsible of me not to mention this to them.

I must make a mental note to give them a call before going to bed. Hopefully it won’t be too early for them, but there’s such a strong need to pass along the exact details that were laid out so vividly in my dream.

No stones unturned, right?

When Derrick came back, he saw how absorbed I was writing in my journal, so he silently placed the food he’d brought back on the table and waved a quick goodbye.

Smiling, I gave a slight wave back.

Unfortunately, those tasty morsels ended up getting stone cold as I continued to scribble in my notebook, but it couldn’t be helped. I was way too afraid of forgetting some essential details if I didn’t get them out of my head and onn paper right then and there.

All sense of time disappeared into the night.

It started as a quick recollection of what I dreamt on the plane, but carried on further and into so much more.

What seemed to be happening was my pen had a mind of its own. It’s as if I was simply an instrument to record the thoughts being passed along from my pen to paper.

Finally, after many hours, I made my way back to the carriage house. Once there, I laid my tired head upon the pillow to catch what little sleeping hours were left.

In the morning, I’ll reheat the meal Derrick had left.

What a sweet guy.

I’ll have to wait and see…

But, he just might be a keeper.

“Even in the darkest of hours, beauty can be found. No matter how this plays out, you can and will find the good in it—and in all of humanity, if you look for it,”

- a message from Y’shua

[Continue reading Maddie’s complete story “In The Wake Of Chaos” as each chapter is released…see the “Previous” & “Next” tabs right under the Like/Share bubbles below]