Quick Reading: I Flew on a Vimana!

I first come into contact with Rachel’s energy from afar, and I’m already beginning to receive information about a past memory, from another time. However, before proceeding I’m also compelled to stop for a moment and observe the energy more closely.

Rachel’s energy is very fluid, clean, crystal-clear. There is a sense of pure curiosity, as well as lightness, to the energy. There are no barriers of any kind to receive spiritual information. The energy is able to detach cleanly and clearly from, shall we say, ‘worldly’ matters, and go into information that is more ‘out there’ and might not be taken as ‘normal’ by the regular world.

Having said that, at the same time there is slight reluctance. I halted for a moment to observe the energy, but also because of some hesitation in letting the information in. The information was momentarily halted as if for fear of something that could happen. Like the delicate surface of water that forms when you begin opening the faucet, but then you close it suddenly, and the water halts and just stays there, suspended, without allowance to freely flow downward. I feel subtle and “high” information is so dear to me, and I don’t want to have any concerns, worries, fears, or mind-based “logical thinking” coming in the way and vetoing the information in any way. It’s so important to me, to the point I’m not even allowing it to come forth.

This suggests that for Rachel there could be some separation between high and low, between imagination/creativity and “common sense”, i.e. regular living. Between what goes in your mind’s eye, and what the real world accepts and allows. Between abstract thinking and inspiration, and putting that inspiration forth out into the world – or at least feeling the world allows you to feel and experience those things in your mind. Perhaps your mind is fertile in fantasy, ‘airy’ in thought, and can wander off, but also be promptly shut down and cut off by the words, thoughts, or even the mere presence, of others. Perhaps there’s a recollection of a time when what today is considered fantasy, then it just was.

There’s resentment against a world that insists on creating separation between fantasy, and what was, and what it could be. There’s a perception that what’s imagined, what’s seen in one’s mind, could so very easily come forth and be put in motion, and manifest quickly, in a tangible manner – instead of meeting all these obstacles, hurdles, barriers, and never actually being born. Never seeing the light of day. A world here on the ground that is so boring and tasteless.

There’s a weariness, that leads me to not want the world to see my imagination, my thoughts, my creativity, to see ME, out of fear that it will just cancel it, or make me cancel it, and make me forget. Forget what’s unbelievable to them.

Vimana

The mystical texts of old on Earth, namely those of the areas of India and its ancestral cultures, have references to flying craft which are called Vimana. I’m being shown the image of one such craft, in those days. It is colossal, the size of a castle, shaped somewhat like a wedding cake, with layers or tiers widest at the bottom and shorter towards the top, somewhat forming the shape of a pyramid.

This craft functions like a floating city or island. It is not “aerodynamic” by today’s standards. It flies by floating in mid-air (?) by using some kind of technology that’s able to make the craft as a whole very light, near weightless. Then, this craft is able to rise or drop in the air, vertically i.e. in altitude, as well as forward and backward, by using these much more mundane-looking propellers or devices of similar nature, very large in size, evenly distributed at various points all around the craft, each resembling the propeller of ship or of a biplane, with two large and long blades rotating slowly around an axis.

Added for this publication: for the record, I don’t (consciously) recall seeing pictures of Vimana while noticing those “propellers” at the base, prior to making this reading. It’s possible I’d seen this image before at some point, and the reading accessed that information stored in the subconscious and used it. In any case, as I was performing the reading I wasn’t creating this description out of memory, I was reporting information as it was being shown.

The craft is meant to float in the air autonomously and indefinitely, virtually speaking. In other words, it’s not so much a vehicle to travel from point A to point B, it’s more like a city that exists on its own, and meant to stay in the air, for the most part. Although it did land on the ground, on occasion, semi-regularly, to resupply on food, as well as for diplomatic purposes, for example.

This craft connects with individuals, consciousness, technology, and hierarchies, of otherworldly origin, which can be traced back to the times of ancient Atlantis. However, this is taking place at a later time, after the period of Atlantis. At this time, such ‘otherworldly connections’ and remnants are still present across Earth, in some points, in this particular case as this machine, as well as the crew that occupies and operates it. The craft is home for the royalty of the area, who inhabits it as their home and fortress.

Aboard this ship a much ‘lighter’ energy/vibration was present, and that could be felt by individuals. The energy “in the air” and of the spaces was of much higher and subtle quality than the energy/consciousness on the surface of the planet. The ship represented the last remnants of the subtle vibrations of the Atlantean period on Earth, while on the surface (ground) the planet had, for the most part, descended into 3D vibration, and the consciousness of its inhabitants along with it. This craft is an ‘island’ in more ways than one. Literally and figuratively, the craft was “above” 3D consciousness and more in touch with the subtle and otherworldly.

On the surface/ground, the descent in consciousness was starting to be felt. Life for the human being was now much more difficult. Menial/mundane tasks now required the work of many people, and took a lot of time and effort to perform. People were now immersed and engulfed by a lifestyle that was demanding, unrewarding, and sapped all of the energies of their physical, as well their consciousness and attention, to such an extent that the regular individual had little time and opportunity to contemplate anything else above and beyond these things, and left little room for what wasn’t pragmatic – sometimes petty – and of immediate value.

The ‘floating island’ was, energetically and figuratively speaking, a bastion of the normal of old. It was a memory.

The old entourage and crews of the ship, the individuals who had the appropriate level of awareness, intelligence, and references, that were trained and had conscious and vivid recollection of what was required to fly the craft and maintain its high vibration within – as well as a physical bodies of otherworldly origin and/or influence that could sustain their personal consciousness and vibration and hold them in place – over time inevitably faded, passed, or were affected by the lowering energy of the planet. As such, as time passed by, the original crew on occasion would need replacing. Sometimes Earth-born human beings were recruited from the surface, and trained in whatever competencies were required within the craft at the time – especially if these individuals showed signs of having been previous members of the ship who had since incarnated in native human bodies on Earth, on the surface.

This was what happened to Rachel. She was a young man, born and raised on the surface, who one day, out of the blue if you will, was approached by representatives of the craft’s crew and invited to join. There was a spiritual background of having previously been a former member of the craft, and this background was sought and recognized by the crew. The boy himself, however, couldn’t recall his own memories of a previous existence. He had been born in a human body, in the Eath’s 3D vibration, in a family, household etc of matching consciousness, and his own consciousness couldn’t consciously access or recall anything beyond the current lifetime. He did have subtle remnants of the memories of his past role, context, and abilities, but these were not conscious or explicit, and he had to rely on the crewmembers to be told about those things.
[Associated with this perception there could be today a certain sensation about the inability of recalling one’s own past-lives, access one’s own spiritual background, one’s spiritual worth, and so forth, as well as a sensation of confusion, i.e. that this should have been possible somehow.]

This experience was an absolute SHOCK, in a positive sense. On one moment he was living in “regular” human consciousness, surrounded by menial affairs, mundane beliefs, and near-complete absence of expectations beyond any of those things. On the next moment, suddenly and without warning, there was a LEAP to a reality that was anything but that.

Everything about the new reality was magical and amazing. From living closely with actual royalty, being engaged up close and working with otherworldly individuals, elements, and origins, a technology that functioned like literal magic, not to mention the pure and subtle energy/vibration aboard the craft, along with the refined and subtle perspectives and awareness of all those living and working there. Finally, being an integral, important, and necessary part of it, having been invited into it, as an equal with intrinsic value. This experience was a difference between night and day in all aspects. It was like a dream, one that seemed impossible – yet was right there.
[Associated with this memory there could be various elements:

• perhaps a secret desire to be ‘saved by aliens / being taken aboard an alien craft and taken somewhere safe’; with this desire, in a sense, also being felt as it being deserved, as one’s “rightful” place, because in this memory the self’s spiritual value and role, beyond human appearances and regular life, was recognized and validated, without any effort taken in that regard;
• a harsh separation between the mundane, regular human consciousness and beliefs, and the ‘magical’; the perception that the magical is inaccessible, and that the two worlds can never meet, and are irrevocably separate with no means of communication between them;
• the perception that one’s own imagination, and sense of self, a) does not belong here and is out of place, but b) can’t manifest, and/or is limited by, being on this reality, in everyday life, and/or for being ‘on the ground’;
• possible extreme sensitivity to the energies of others who can easily interrupt and block out the inner self;
• dreaming/idealizing about receiving external recognition; depending on external validation before acting on my own volition; waiting for external recognition of the self, as permission, only then granting oneself allowance to be oneself (yet this reluctance may prevent external validation in the first place, gridlocking the whole process, and leading the self to never be true to oneself);
• consciously or unconsciously associating the sky/clouds/heavens as freedom and high consciousness, while being “trapped” on the ground as being restrictive and of low consciousness; possible desire/dream to fly, as a child for example.]

Fall

The Vimana did not last this way forever. Soon, relatively speaking, after the boy was enlisted into the crew and spending time working in this magical setting, the craft crashed.

The ship didn’t malfunction completely. But there was one moment when control was suddenly partially lost, and the craft began to slide abruptly and sharply to the side, while also dropping in altitude. This was felt inside as an abrupt leaning – being the craft otherwise extremely peaceful, stable, smooth – and the sliding of loose objects towards one direction, dropping to the ground, etc.

The propeller-type motors were more or less ‘mechanical’ in nature and straightforward to operate and maintain. In fact, this was what the boy was recruited and trained for: he had been instructed on how to operate those motors, checking their functioning, and fixing them if and when necessary. Sometimes, when they malfunctioned or did not function as expected, they could be ‘cranked’ manually, by hand, to make them spin… These motors were of relatively simple design, and all they did was, mostly, harness and redirect some of the energy/motion, already being produced by the main and more exotic core technology of the craft, the one keeping it afloat and weightless. This more exotic technology was, however, the issue.

This technology was understood by the crew, and, in its own way, was quite simple and fairly easy to maintain. It was also extremely durable, built to last and stay functioning indefinitely, for a long time. But at the same time, as the consciousness of those who operated it was being lost gradually, this much more exotic, non-“mechanical” technology began crossing the threshold of being something familiar and workable, to being something mysterious, difficult to get into. It took a very long time for this to happen, but the necessary knowledge to keep this technology functioning nevertheless grew increasingly distant and unfamiliar. Over time, the approach went from “let’s fix it”, to “just leave it, it’ll be fine“. Eventually, at one specific junction, this led to a malfunction in the core systems of the ship, causing it to lose sustainability in the air.

The crash wasn’t an uncontrollable free fall. The ship was floating partially, and it as if “slid” into the ground as it descended – like a sheet of paper sliding across a table, or a feather gliding sideways while falling. And it did so while still holding a straight, upright shape – albeit in a violent and abrupt manner. The ship hit the ground with the bottom decks first, where the boy worked. Then, as it did so, it toppled completely, like when one topples a pawn piece in a board of chess. In the crash, the lower decks suffered the most. The boy did not perish, but he was severely injured and knocked unconscious.

Energetically and figuratively speaking, the fall of the craft parallelled the growing unsustainability of its energy/vibration on planet Earth. Earth, as a planet and environment with a certain vibration, was no longer ‘friendly’ towards the energy of the craft. Having been forced to take too much of ‘Earth-based’ 3D energy among its ranks (even if mostly comprised of previous and original crew members spiritually, but who now had Earth human bodies of matching vibration), the accumulation of this 3D energy as if added spiritual ‘weight’ to the ship’s own energy, and ended up “pulling it to the ground”.

The ship was no longer able to fly, and a significant portion of the crew was injured, in shock, or had perished. But more importantly, no support structures were established on the ground to protect, rescue, and/or repair the ship. Stranded on the ground, physically speaking, the ship was now completely exposed and vulnerable to the intents of those on the ground, the vast majority of whom had lower perception and awareness. With the common population being able to physically access the ship, the most likely and predictable scenario would be for them to be tempted to pillage and salvage materials from it.

Hastily and reactively, several of the more important echelons of the ship, especially those more closely related to royalty, proceeded to disassemble and take with them the more vital and advanced pieces of technology, and the more meaningful and powerful artifacts. In time, these would form what could be labeled as ‘secret’ groups and families, meant to hold on to, and protect and preserve, these artifacts, as well as the memories of the context they belonged to, and what was left of the knowledge associated with them.

The rest of the ship was left behind, crashed on the ground, and was indeed gradually scavenged and stripped away, piece by piece, by the locals, treasure hunters, and otherwise individuals of regular consciousness, until there was virtually nothing left. Those parts and pieces were stored for monetary value, kept as novelties, were made into family heirlooms, and things of the sort – but seldom were they truly understood and seen by what they were, from the perspective of someone who had been there and lived it, in the context of it being normal.

The boy had been severely injured, and he was taken to the original setting and village where he had been raised, to heal and recuperate. However, the healing methods used to treat him were, to put it frankly, barbaric, i.e. elementary and crude at best. He received treatment but he never healed fully, and was left crippled, forced to walk on canes for the rest of his life, in practice restraining him to the physical vicinity of where he lived in. Energetically, he was grounded, stuck, on the physical surface, as well as on the human-level reality.

He spent the rest of his days barely able to come out of bed, and when he did, he would step out of the hut and look up into the clear blue sky, hoping for another ship that would return and take him back, once more, to the life and reality he knew. This never happened.

Closing Thoughts

Following the first, positive shock, of the profound experience of being invited into a new world where what was magical was normal, the experience as a whole ended up resulting in trauma.

After getting to know personally a whole new level of awareness – and having been validated in his own spiritual nature – the boy was abruptly sent back once again to the reality he once knew, and in a deeply traumatic manner, by a crash that created injury, and by which the reality he knew was taken away and completely ceased to exist. The contrast of the previous reality with the regular one was also a shock, but now a deeply painful one. In the old reality, not even the most basic necessities, standards, beliefs, and expectations, of the previous one, were met. Not only that, but he was now worse than when he began, not just physically but also emotionally.
[Here there’s a possible element of disappointment towards spiritual awakening, perhaps a feeling than normal reality prior to awakening was easier, or less painful.]

No one around the boy went through what he went through. And so they could neither understand nor relate to what he said. They had never seen the craft from the inside. Some had never seen the craft at all. The Vimana was something that, despite known to exist as a fact, was also quite mystical as well, distant from their perception and everyday lives. Those around him could not even begin to grasp what the boy was talking about in terms of experiences, but also at the basic levels of beliefs, references, consciousness.

After having been introduced the ship’s reality (which was reinforced by his own inner spiritual nature and background – he subconsciously knew that’s where he belonged) now having to deal and interact with regular human awareness on an everyday basis, and from a place of deep emotional and physical traumas that could not be healed “back to full”, was beyond painful.
[Here there’s a strong element of contrast, perhaps disdain and even anger, related to regular human consciousness and beliefs. Possibly the perception of thinking and talking on a whole different level of understanding than others do; not being understood by others; having to “dumb down” one’s discourse to fit in, in society and in the world.]

Having lived through a LEAP in consciousness, and then subsequently having the new, magical world come crashing down abruptly and traumatically, created and solidified the feeling that what was truly ‘magical’ and amazing – along with one’s own inner nature and role – was not secure, was not safe, and may not be protected and safeguarded, in this world. The perception of the ultimate lack of safety net. This reinforced a hesitancy and fear regarding following one’s dreams: acting not from one’s own creativity, not doing what you want, but what you’re “supposed” to do instead.