The wind carries the feeling of impending doom as it moans through the sails a haunting voice that sailors know well. The salty spray of the ocean stings our faces as we stand in rank and steady ourselves on the swaying wooden deck, preparing to face our fate. The motion of our tall vessel is something we are used to, but it has increased in the last few moments as our captain continues to maneuver our warship to engage the enemy.
We are all afraid cold and afraid. Many around me are silent and praying. I can see the movement of their lips as they say their final sweet words to their God. Some bring out small tokens of their wives and children, and hold them tight … but we never let go of our weapons … ever. Some are weeping, but no man is in judgment of this. Many of us are going to our deaths soon, and there are no “rules” among warriors in these last moments. These are personal moments, and each man has his own way of facing death.
The call to battle is imminent. In the semi-darkness of the morning dawn, the wind sweeps over the waves and is delivered to the sails of the ship as we continue to jockey for position with an unseen enemy who is very close, but hidden by the fog. The sails luff and fill as the captain jibs through the wind, trying to guess the position of the enemy. We are upwind, and the captain has given us battle advantage. The ocean speaks to us again, as a heavy northern swell pushes against our port side, tipping the deck in a way that foretells that we are maneuvering towards the battle line.
Books are filled with these moments, glorifying them and making them into some kind of adventure. But most will never know the absolute silence we are experiencing prior to battle between men on the sea. The ships must come together in a way that allows boarding, yet they must stay out of “profile range” of the big guns they both carry, to the last possible moment. No instructions are yelled or battle cries are heard. Instead, silence is maintained to allow the captain’s steady non-emotional voice to be heard over the wind and waves, giving constant rudder adjustments, and instructions on final sail trims. The trimmers are on the yards, along with the archers and lookouts. We are over a hundred on deck with our armor and weapons, and there is not a sound except for these haunting surreal navigation voices and the creaking of the ship as it groans against the surge of the sea.
Out of the fog and mist appears the enemy, and they are enormous! Their ship is as we were told much bigger than ours. A new cold wave of fear descends upon us as we see the reality of what is coming and we know the odds. No man says anything, as we simply stare at our fate. The enemy ship will meet us on our starboard side, and we on their port. Both of us will immediately lose headway to allow boarding, as the two ships slowly slide past each other at zero range. We watch as their sails are furiously collected to spill the wind. We are doing the same.
The explosions are deafening when the cannons of both ships erupt. The roar from both sides is almost simultaneous, and the deck immediately slants under our feet as our iron clad ship feels the brunt of the volley on the hull. Most cannons are aimed at the hull of the other, but some of the smaller guns are aimed at the rigging. The result of the damage is chaos on the decks of both ships, and we are in the middle of it all.
We must focus to stay alive and shield ourselves from our fear. Falling rigging is tearing into the deck where we are standing, and the wet, heavy lines and tackle are whipping us like attacking snakes, destined to entangle us and keep us from the fight. We are now out of rank, shields pointed up, dodging the flying debris and moving about furiously.
Next come the arrows. Our lookouts see this and the order to put shields forward is given. We see their archers strapped to the yards of their ship’s foremast, allowing them to have a “first choice” aim as their ship comes alongside ours. Tying the men in this way helps to stabilize their aim, and many will die there, hanging in their harnesses like rag dolls, slowly staining the sails red. We watch as our archers try to take out theirs. We hear the exclamations of pain from both sides as arrows hit their mark. Then the death around me begins. Men are going down everywhere. Focus! Do as you are trained! Look for where the arrows are coming from and keep your shield pointed that way. Listen and watch!
The order comes quickly to move to starboard, where large sections of the railing have been removed in anticipation of battle. We must be quick! The wooden boarding ramps have been raised into the air, giving some shielding to the rain of arrows and spears that continues to assault us. More men fall, and we move forward to take their places. Focus! Don’t help fallen mates. Don’t look at them! You will be next if you do.
Less than a minute has passed since the first cannon fire, and a massive sustained battle yell comes out of our throats as we push forward en masse to the deck to the other ship. This is our protocol. Our commanders tell us that the noise frightens the enemy, but we know that our yelling is mostly meant to cover the cries of pain of those around us who are falling and stumbling from horrendous wounds that we are taught not to view. Don’t look! Focus!
The cannons roar yet again, and my death is what my superiors call a “dumb death.” It has no honor. In all the chaos, noise, and confusion, I realize that I was positioned on the very edge of the boarding gangway. The inertia of our own coordinated cannon volley pitched our deck and threw me down into the havoc and turmoil of the two ships grinding past each other. I must have been torn apart and drowned at the same time. I never engaged the enemy, and I never defended my country. I was a total failure. The ocean mocked me as it immediately closed over my dismembered parts and captured my soul. No one heard my screams.
I awaken in a pool of sweat. That dream again! Why do I have that dream so often? Was it a movie I saw or a book I read? It was so real! I could hear the sounds!
As I get ready for work, check my email, and text a friend on my smart phone, I ponder all this. Is it possible that this memory is something I actually experienced? Perhaps it explains my anxiety of the sea? All my life, my friends have made fun of me because I would not go into the ocean. Pools were fine; lakes were fine, but never the ocean. It wasn’t reasonable, but fear isn’t logical. I realized some time ago that I didn’t just dislike the ocean, I hated it. I hated the feeling it gave me, as if it somehow knew me. I didn’t care if I was swimming in it or not. I just didn’t like it and as far as boating or cruising went, forget it. Never! Some suggested therapy, but I had my own answer, and it worked. I just lived as far away from the sea as I could.
I still feel the residual fear and anxiety of my dream as I begin my commute to work. I start my car and move onto the road. I smile, and enjoy my daily peaceful drive to work within the vast plains of Texas, very safe from the sea.
From Lee Carroll
The above story isn’t mine, but it could have been. Kryon tells us that these amazingly real dreams may very well be expressions of our past lives as they are carried over in that mysterious energy called the Akashic Record. Certain past lives, which are especially potent with drama, seem to be etched into our very cellular fabric. Can they affect us today? Do these residuals carry over and affect where we live or how we make decisions? The answer is yes, and the life-changing potentials are profound.
This book is about these amazing Akashic energies as discussed by Kryon in the last twenty-four years. However, it goes much further than simple information about past life experiences. In this new post-2012 energy, we are being told that we can actually work with our own Akashic energies in profound ways. We can even re-write the fear and anxiety of past experiences, and void the drama. How about mining our own past talents and body attributes? Is it possible to use them in our current life? After all, if it’s inside us, then why not? Interested?
This is the second subject-driven book from author and Kryon archivist, Monika Muranyi. The first book, The Gaia Effect, was a carefully researched compilation of just about everything Kryon has channeled about Gaia. It was so well received, that she knew she had to compile and write about at least two more subjects. The book you are holding in your hands is number two in the series.
The Akash is complicated and often misunderstood. Again Monika pulls together what Kryon has channelled about this subject and surrounds it with explanations and commentary. In addition, she asks Kryon many questions to help further clarify certain attributes. These questions appear nowhere else, and are unique to this book.
Enjoy this journey into a subject that is a study of your own lineage on planet Earth!
SEE THE CHAPTER HEADINGS!