All posts by Linden Morningstar

About Linden Morningstar

Linden Morningstar is the author of two beguiling and engrossing novels. His debut novel The Starlight Prophecy is a dazzling little gem of fantasy, science fiction, and horror. About an intrepid band of five women whose passionate intellect, fiery nature, and adventurous hearts unknowingly collide with an ancient alien prophecy, which thrusts them on a perilous journey to save an alien Star people; only to end up themselves trapped in the maniacal and deadly obsession of one whose only desire is to enslave them to finish his annihilation of the Star people or destroy them if they fail. Here they experience what it feels like to become something more than human, something alien, and superhuman that enthralls yet terrifies them. As an alien prophecy drives them to a shocking destiny they must accept or turn away from in terror. Linden wrote The Starlight Prophecy in celebration of the births of his five granddaughters and to immortalize them superheroines. Morningstar’s second novel Gloria Rising is a gripping psychological and supernatural novel based on real people and life events with some literary license altering details to protect the identity of the heroine, Gloria. Linden's unique experience as a hypnotherapist gives penetrating insight and psychological depth to this powerful and unsettling story about a woman terrified of going insane and desperate for help. Gloria must face and accept the horror and repressed trauma of her childhood to heal and transform her life. Her hypnotherapist, Dr. Adam Jaxon is confronted by Gloria’s baffling array of psychiatric disorders and symptoms, and dangerous sleepwalking episodes. Even more bewildering is the unexpected appearance of a heavenly presence during Gloria’s hypnotherapy sessions that claims to have come to help Gloria, watch over her, and guide Dr. Jaxon's hypnotherapy. An astounding turn of events that unnerves the usually unflappable Dr. Jaxon and forces him to reconsider his own metaphysical understanding and psychological grip on reality. Dr. Jaxon’s beliefs about reality and the nature of existence are profoundly tested and reset later when the mysterious being reveals its astonishing identity. Gloria Rising is a trailblazing psychological novel based on true events that takes you beyond the books about the intriguing multiple personalities like Sybil and The Three Faces of Eve to a living hell of indescribable terror and horror—and to something beyond that is otherworldly, which defies the principles and understanding of modern psychology and psychiatry. Linden wrote Gloria Rising as a heartfelt tribute to Gloria's heroine’s journey; to honor her courageous victory over evil, childhood abuse and trauma, and miraculous healing and transformation. He lives with his cherished wife and four cantankerous, high-maintenance, and lovable cats in southern California.

GLORIA RISING TENTH ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION

The book you love, completely reimagined and perfected.

A heartfelt tribute to Bea Hudson, honoring her courageous victory over childhood abuse and trauma, and celebrating her miraculous healing and spiritual transformation. To give praise to Gloria’s Helper, the Pyramid Lady, and the Guardian for making Gloria’s rebirth a testament to the Works of God and the unfaltering hope and resilience of the human spirit, which gave us strength, power, and hope. You are evidence of the glory of God’s Work.

To celebrate the Tenth Anniversary of GLORIA RISING, what I wish to share with you may be momentous to the interested reader and shocking to our discerning fans. Over the years, I had given considerable thought to a makeover for “Gloria Rising,” primarily because I felt my co-author Bea Hudson needed greater recognition and credit for her central role in the arc of the story and for our readers and fans to realize that this is a true supernatural story.

The character Gloria B. was actually Bea Hudson, and Adam Jaxon was my alter ego. When I originally wrote Gloria Rising using Bea’s rich automatic writings, there were professional and personal reasons I chose to keep our involvement private.

As you can imagine, writing Gloria Rising was very emotional for me since Bea had died before its writing and publication. So, we never had the opportunity to celebrate its publication or for her to see the positive impact of her story on its readers.

After all these years, I felt it was the right time to be transparent and let the truth of Bea’s true and extraordinary hero’s journey be known by publishing the Tenth Anniversary Revised Edition. I know she would be thrilled that her name, Bea Hudson, and story are a source of hope and inspiration for those who desperately need support, and an intriguing novel for our perceptive fans.

In memory of Beatrice M. Hudson, co-author, 1924-2014, for her amazing contribution to our hypnotherapy through her astonishing automatic writing and indomitable courage that made Gloria Rising an inspirational and fascinating story.

As a tribute to the Pyramid Lady and the Guardian, I created these photo illustrations of them as described in Bea’s automatic writings and dreams.

The Pyramid Lady

 

 

 

The Guardian

 

CELEBRATION OF THE STARGIRLS FIFTEENTH ANNIVERSARY

STARGIRLS VANISH INTO GARLIG’S GAUNTLET FROM HELL

 

STARGIRLS

JILL          ALI          MAD          LYN          SADE

 

LYN            MAD               SADE              ALI            JILL

 

Stargirls Arch Enemies

 

AAGAATAR

GARLIG

STARGIRLS FIFTEENTH ANNIVERSARY

The book you love, completely reimagined and perfected.

You may have noticed I have not posted for several months. Over the years, I have given considerable thought to a makeover for “The Starlight Prophecy,” primarily because I felt the Stargirls needed the recognition of the Marque given their central role in the arc of the story. So, I renamed the novel STARGIRLS, with The Starlight Prophecy as the subtitle.

I felt the Stargirl Brand would have more appeal and would please my loyal fans. I also created a new book cover and back cover that captured the spirit and reality of STARGIRLS. The original has gone out of print to make room for the definitive, updated edition.

I believe STARGIRLS is an epic science fantasy story and a hero’s journey that will inspire men and women to be the best versions of themselves. For women, you will always be:

STARGIRLS FOREVER

 SADE       MAD              ALI                LYN            JILL

STARGIRLS ALLIES

 

 

Lyn Saved from Certain Death by an Unknown Savior

The Starlight Prophecy; pgs. 166-171

Chapter 27

AURU LEFT the Death Legion War Council and tried to leave his alarming thoughts behind, heading for his Zaagon command center. Along the way, a peculiar idea struck him. The Vaangeez galaxy was nothing more than an irritating speck of dust in the scheme of things. Yet, the Aagaa Zaagon were willing to die for it.

Aagaatar, a cold-blooded killer made it so. Auru was aghast, thinking it tragic that a demented Aagaa Zaagon leader held the fate of the Vaangeez galaxy in his black claw. He entered his command center and Aleana’s dazzling smile ended his dark reverie, he wondered whether rumors about the Earth aliens were true.

* * *

Garlig burst from the photon pulse tube on Aagaatar’s Zaagon Citadel. He was ablaze in its energy and triumphant as if he had single handedly defeated the Star people. He could hardly wait to tell Aagaatar that he had won over the Death Legion Commanders, and they had surrendered to his will and war plan—the Thaaton Death Formation was already in progress.

In the meantime, Soulmaa sat nervously waiting for Garlig to return following her union with Taaya. She wanted to wait until Aagaatar and Garlig were distracted before going to Lyn’s rescue. Once Lyn’s condition was stable, she would contact Mala; and they would join forces to help the Stargirls. She felt the weight of the universe on her shoulders, knowing, she alone could save her. Finally, she sensed Garlig’s black aura and went to Lyn. She hoped the curative herb Moria she had prepared would restore Lyn’s health.

Lyn lay motionless as Soulmaa entered the cell. The deadly smell of OT seeped from Lyn’s flesh, infusing the cell with a virulent odor. The drug meant to paralyze Lyn’s body and control her free will. She lay nude, shivering in cold sweat, while a foul-smelling blanket lay beside her.

Soulmaa shook her. She was unresponsive.

Soulmaa whispered in her ear, fearing detection by Zurkaas. She lifted Lyn’s head and mopped her face with her robe, then covered her with the filthy blanket. She sprinkled Moria’s white powder into her palm and gently blew the potent drug into Lyn’s face. She stopped and listened to her breathing, short and irregular, that broke into a gasp for life while her white face transformed into a pink rose complexion. Lyn’s breathing eased; she coughed and opened her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and unfocused. “Lyn, its Soulmaa. She waited for a response for what seemed forever. “Lyn, can you hear me?” She vigorously shook her and said, “Wake up.” Soulmaa’s third eye stared, as if willing her to rise from the dead.

Lyn’s voice cracked. “Yes.” Soulmaa smiled. “Can you see me?” “Everything’s a blur.”

“Good, your vision returns.” “Where am I? Who are you?”

Lyn’s questions were the product of memory loss from OT—but an encouraging sign of her increasing awareness of her surroundings.

Soulmaa hesitated, knowing Lyn would soon recover her memory. A spine-tingling scream caused Soulmaa to jump. She quickly silenced the scream with her hand over Lyn’s mouth. Lyn’s body thrashed to free herself from the nightmare that imprisoned her. Her screams were now subdued.

Soulmaa wrestled to control her, shouting in desperation, “Lyn, stop, stop, and look at me.” Lyn’s brute strength shocked Soulmaa, who released her hold on Lyn’s mouth to pinion her shoulders to the floor.

She kicked furiously . . . then suddenly stopped and relaxed.

Lyn stared at the strange olive-brown face with a distinctive set of three eyes that floated above her. Bewildered it was a human-looking face, she said, “Soulmaa, is that you?”

“Yes.”

“How can this be?”

“Looks are deceiving. Truth lies deeper than snakeskin.” “I’m confused.”

“Little wonder, after all you’ve been through.” “What happened?”

“You were drugged and near death.”

Lyn heard Soulmaa’s words, but jumbled in her mind. Her mind whirled in chaos, images of the Afar and Max’s death to the cataclysmic quake and their journey to the center of the Earth—and beyond, to Bhatra, Garlig’s terror, and Aagaatar’s living hell. She struggled to put the pieces together when Soulmaa’s words—near death—shook her.

Then clarity, like tumblers to a massive vault, fell into place and freed her mind. She grasped reality and gently brushed Soulmaa’s cheek. “I think I’m back, but what of the Stargirls?”

“Your sisters live but are close to defeat. I am afraid; a replica of you has fooled them into yielding to Aagaatar’s black claw. Soon he will summon them and use the Golden Star’s power against the Star people. We must prevent this evil. We must contact Mala.”

“Who’s Mala?” “You don’t know?” “No.”

“Lyn, she is your Star Guide, sent to you at birth to raise you as Stargirls.” Lyn, staggered by the revelation, found the strength to sit up. The apparition in her dreams had a name.

“You did say Mala?”

“Yes. Mala is a Star Warrior Priestess.” “Soulmaa, this is incredible.”

“Yes, we must contact her.” “How can you reach her?”

“I have my ways, but that’s not the problem.”

“What?”

“By circumstance, we are enemies; she will think it’s a trick.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That’s where you come in—she will believe you.” She placed an Adacian seed in Lyn’s palm. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, with my life.”

“Eat of this seed so we can communicate with Mala.”

Lyn chewed the bitter seed, while Soulmaa took her hands in hers.

Their minds left their bodies to find Mala.

* * *

Mala was fighting her own battle against Aagaatar, as psychic barriers sent her reeling into fantastic dimensions of space-time. Lost in astral space, she noticed a rupture in Aagaatar’s Tranpsyonic defenses and attacked.

She burst through several vibration levels when she heard a faint voice call to her.

“Mala . . . Mala.” To her surprise the voice said, “It’s Lyn.” “Lyn it cannot be?”

“Yes, it is your Star child.”

“I had given up hope when hope finds me.” “I came with Soulmma to defeat Aagaatar.”

“What sorcery has Aagaatar conjured to defeat me?”

Lyn’s voice resolute, “Soulmaa is Taaya’s Star rebel leader; she saved me from certain death.”

“Your words are persuasive, but how do I know you are not under her spell?”

Soulmaa cut in, “Your instincts speak to the survival of our species. If we fail to act, Aagaatar’s Final Solution will be our legacy. Do you want that?”

“Your words are correct, but slippery. What proof can you offer?” “Taaya told me to tell you that you are Star sisters.”

“Star sisters—you must be mad to think I would believe that.” “Taaya said to travel back in time to your 30th birthday. The answer lies there.”

“Lies!”

“For God’s sake, Mala, listen to Soulmaa. You are my Star Mother,” Lyn pleaded.

Mala, confronted with her nemesis and not knowing what to think, fearing Lyn controlled by a psychic ventriloquist when her thoughts interrupted.

“Mala, use Freeze Time to imprison us while you seek the truth.” Mala gazed into Soulmaa’s third eye, reflecting her pure intentions. Mala knew what she had to do.

“So be it.” She raised and spread her fingers wide. Lyn’s attention was transfixed on her Star Mother when a stream of cosmic rays bombarded their energy fields, creating a brilliant collision of photon particles that immobilized them. The radical collisions released dark matter that tore the fabric of the universe, causing an alternate reality to bulge through the tear. It gave birth to a ninth-dimension bubble that trapped them, without time.

Mala focused her mind on what lie hidden within the memories of her 30th birthday. How could a personal moment in her past change the future’s course, bringing her, Soulmaa and the Stargirls together to defeat Aagaatar and his Final Solution? The possibility overwhelmed her mind. She wondered whether the past two hundred years of her life and the culmination of all her actions unfolded from a premonition brought on from the past—an anticipation of the choice she just made to trust Soulmaa and journey into the past.

She felt a decision—made long ago—called for her to observe something in her obscure past that would set off a chain reaction, change her possible futures into this exact moment, and establish her past as real. She realized it was a paradox of quantum space-time.

Her mind dawdled like a small child approaching something unknown with trepidation and excitement. At first blush, her response embarrassed her—then she accepted it as natural while zeroing in on what she must accomplish, considering the lives of so many at stake. She focused her psychic powers on the celebration of her 30th birthday, a time that held little meaning until now.

Mala’s journey into the past was daunting even for a Star Warrior Mystic as her mind opened a psychic time portal, and she saw the haze of the universe’s birth and the blur of the universe’s future’s horizon. A brilliant flash of light drew her attention; she locked on her 30th year time pulse, as time flowed backwards. Time vacillated wildly as scenes of her life blurred together, at other times abruptly stopped, making what she heard or witnessed humorous.

Then a particular slice of time struck her funny—when she saw herself as a student engrossed in a time experiment in which she accidentally ran into a younger version of herself. Her younger self was out on a date and spilled a pink drink down the front of her white top, causing her to feel mortified. Mala, shocked by the chance encounter, pressed her time-escape button and fled. It was an improbable quantum entangled moment; her adviser used as a textbook example, illustrating the importance of the emotional aspects of time travel, much to Mala’s chagrin.

Mala now laughed at her awkward response. She had learned to remove herself from the time equation and focused on her 30th birthday. She traveled back with resolve to find the truth, when time suddenly gave up its enlightening secret.

Tears of anguish rained down the cheeks of Mala’s mother, Tia. She tried to hold back her tears afraid her sobs would awaken Mala and spoil her birthday; but despite her efforts, they gushed unhindered. Mala lay quietly listening to her mother’s torment.

Ilona, Tia’s best friend, held her, comforting her, and said, “You did your best, and you did the right thing.”

Tia moaned, “I do not know.” She pinched her forehead to ward off a headache while a deeper pain gnawed at her. “Ilona, our secret breaks my heart. What can we do?”

“We swore an oath to protect Mala from genetic prejudice. Have you forgotten?”

“Never, but I feel regret?” “Tia, we had no other choice.”

“I know, but what tears at me is Mala and your daughter, Taaya will never know they are twins and that you are Mala’s surrogate mother. But, for the sake of Mala, our secret will go to the grave with us—they can never be Star sisters.” Her words imprinted on Mala’s childish mind— which Mala now comprehended. She was astonished that she was Taaya’s twin sister and saddened her mother carried the burden of her birth to the grave.

Mala stared into the image of her mother’s tear-stained face and said, “Mom, I love you—” Unexpectedly, time reversed, sending Mala back to the future, feeling she was reborn as the twin sister of Taaya.

Mala gaped into the ninth-dimension; she felt Soulmaa and Lyn’s energy vibrations. She thought nothing has changed, yet everything is changed. She now understood Quastar’s inexplicable words, “He wages psychic war but is no match for you, and Soulmaa is another matter. She is a proud Trion Warrior; you must discern her intentions for yourself.” She now knew Soulmaa’s intent and looked deeper into the ninth space-dimension bubble she had created, wondering whether their combined powers could triumph over the evil forces they faced.

She raised her hand and unleashed a wave of dark energy, causing the ninth-dimension membrane to collapse and release Lyn and Soulmaa back to three-dimensional reality. They stared at each other. Mala wondered what they had experienced in Freeze Time, while Soulmaa and Lyn were confused about whether they were entering or exiting Freeze Time, with no memory of either. The sudden reentry into the flow of time confused them. The arrow of time held no meaning for them—it seemed to flow forward and backward, hence their perplexed expressions.

Mala realized their time decompression and said, “Welcome . . . back . . . you are . . . okay . . . You’re … just . . . experiencing . . . time . . . decompression . . . welcome . . . back.” Mala’s words strung out in slow motion sounded bizarre and made Lyn laugh.

Soulmaa found her voice first. “Did you find it?” “Yes, I found the truth thanks to you.”

“Fantastic, all goes as planned, except for one wrinkle.” “Wrinkle?”

“The Stargirls are in trouble. Aagaatar created a clone of Lyn that manipulates them to defeat us.”

Mala considered the dire news and said, “Lyn, she is a part of you, and only you can persuade her she is wrong. Then we must switch your bodies, so you can join your sisters to sabotage Aagaatar’s invisible Ullusion Defense.”

Soulmaa said, “I can make the transformation happen.” Lyn said, “But how?”

“You must link with her. Trust your Star power. I will do the rest.” “Mala, I’ll do my best.”

Soulmaa said, “We must have a three-prong attack. Lyn rejoins her sisters; the Avengtrons and I destroy the Zurkaa’s and disable Aagaatar’s Dark-Halo propulsion system; and Stargirls will sabotage the Ullusion shield. Mala, you alert Taaya, so the Nebulan Star Fleet can attack. Did I miss anything?”

“Sister, no wonder Taaya made you her supreme spy.” “Mala, we are all sisters of the Stars.”

 

Will Taaya be saved from a Time Quirkton?

The Starlight Prophecy; pgs. 150-151

Chapter 21

TAAYA’S ATOMIC BLUEPRINT glimmered into existence and then disappeared from the gen-time window. Commander Kroton of the Nebula Star fleet gnashed his teeth and thundered, “What the hell . . . Lieutenant Taul, is there a problem?”

“Commander, I don’t think so—just electromagnetic interference from a stellar explosion that sent a blast wave of super nova energy that has temporarily overridden her encoded genetic matrix . . . wait a moment.”

Beads of sweat formed on Commander Kroton’s craggy brow as he squinted into the gleaming genetic-time window, fearfully looking for any sign of the Star Commander. The thought of losing her made him nauseated, as a ghastly feeling of unreality besieged him.

“Are you sure we didn’t lose her?” “I’d bet my life on it.”

Kroton, not convinced, screeched, “Where is she?” “Commander, her signal is incoming, but weak.” “Taul, do something. Don’t fail me.”

“If anything fails, Commander, it’s our Matom technology—all we can do is wait, nothing more.” Kroton cringed at Taul’s blunt assessment, wringing his fleshy hands, uttering a curse. The curse hardly parted his lips when Taul said, “Good news, the signal grows stronger. She should be here about now.” Tense moments passed while the super nova’s blast of plasma energy that disrupted the gen-time transfer degenerated. Taaya’s signature matrix came back online, and her image flickered and vanished.

Kroton bellowed, “Taul?”

“Commander Kroton, I . . . I . . . I think we lost her.” “What? Do something, Taul, do it now.”

Taul waved his hands like a master magician through a maze of colorful light beams controlling the gen-time Space Portal and Matom programs, trying madly to save the Star Commander.

“Got her! We didn’t lose her,” he said, as sweat glistened on his drained face. “Commander, she was caught in a gravitational time ripple that I now control. Her matrix signal was knocked out of phase with current time.”

Kroton mopped sweat off his granite face, gasping for breath,

thankful that Taul’s quick actions saved Taaya from a Time Quirkton that would have left her stranded in an unknown space-time. He grumbled, “The most advanced teleport system is not fail-safe,” when he realized his protest futile.

“Taul, is she back on gen-time?”

“Yes, her signal is being reconfigured and downloaded as we speak.”

She suddenly materialized before their anxious eyes. Taaya looked at the ashen face of Commander Kroton and said, “Commander is there something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He mopped his brow and stared at her with his uneven-set blue and green eyes. His odd gaze struck her as funny. She did not know what to make of it.

Nonetheless, his strange eyes and rugged stature gave him a magnetism she liked.

Kroton broke into a broad smile. “Is something wrong? No, Commander, not now. Only a slight glitch in your teleportation, but your presence makes our concern unnecessary. So welcome, the Nebula forces are at your disposal; and you can thank Taul for making your gen-time journey nearly uneventful.”

“Taul, thanks for the interstellar ride.” She stepped forward and gave Kroton a hug, whispering, “Kroton, you are a sight for starry eyes, but you worry too much. Take me to the command center and brief me.” He led her to the command center, where his intelligence officers waited with the latest Star intelligence.

The Pyramid Lady, “I can’t consider you a thief or a likely candidate for prison or a nervous breakdown Gloria…”

Gloria Rising pgs. 106-108

AUTOMATIC LETTER 77

Wednesday night

Dear Nice Person,
I’ve had a chance to read Gloria’s letter from the North Pole signed
Santa Claus (actually from you) over and over again – you’ve handed me
such a jumble of sweet emotions; you’ve stretched my capacity to care way off-                     thanks to you Adam my definition of love will never be the same. The best
part of coming to you, in talks like this, or at “our home away from home”
(your office) is you, and knowing you’ll be there.
You are the foundation, the base Gloria and I need to touch in good
times and bad. No matter how you feel about anything else your feelings
toward us are always the same. You’re available for support, reassurance,
counsel and during a crisis even physical help. Be assured we won’t take
advantage of your goodness but what you have done for us (Gloria and I)
will help us to draw strength from – every day of our life. For this precious
gift I cannot thank you enough. I had to tell you this before going into
Gloria’s dreams.
A little girl is in her bed – she has been accused of stealing a lot of money
and has been found in a closet with the money in the pocket of a dress – her
parents have reassured her that they didn’t believe she took the money even
after she confessed through fright that she did steal it. No wonder she’s
sleepy after this ordeal. In her dream she stares at the crucifix above the bed
then closes her eyes – the small figure on the crucifix had seemed to lean
forward as if preparing to jump off the cross and onto her pillow.
She sleeps and dreams she is in prison – endless corridors of cells
whose windows looked out on nothing but bars and policemen with guns
to shoot anyone who moved. One part of her wants to die – the other part
of her mind is shut off like a water faucet – eventually she will have to turn
it on – Later – Later she will have to think, to feel – now she has only to
move before the police come to get her.
Next, I see the little girl in the forest before the cemetery gates – the
worst are her feet – blood is all over them – she feels like all her bones
are broken like when the “Other” throws her across the wall – a little bird
draws near her – only it’s not a bird or a pigeon. It’s a little dove and it settles
gently on her head – the Pyramid Lady is there and she’s talking to the little
girl. I can hear her by going closer.
She’s saying, “I can’t consider you a thief or a likely candidate for
prison or a nervous breakdown Gloria (she knows her name?) I sense a real
strength in you more strength than you know is there – you’ve got internal                              reserves that ability to cope and to keep coping. Now remember don’t let
anyone tell you otherwise. I’ll help.”
Next, the little girl is at school and she’s in disgrace – the “Other” told
the principal that, “She’s been misbehaving very badly since we moved.
Telling lies and arguing all the time and now even stealing from her parents,
she took money hidden under carpets in the room. She took things
from my room and wouldn’t admit she had. Such a stupid lie as if anyone
else would have but she did admit to stealing last night when caught with all
that money. I don’t mind telling you. I’m beginning to wonder if she’s not
losing her mind. If anything gets taken tell the children where to look,” but
the children have heard everything and the little girl is hanging her head in
shame – a little boy is crying, “someone stole my crayons and I know who.”
Gloria is waking up in a cold sweat. She never stole anything. See you later.

Gloria’s Helper

Angel with Wings on a Horse Appears with a Message “SOAP”

Gloria Rising: pgs. 70-71

AUTOMATIC LETTER 53

Sunday night

Dear Adam,

Tonight before Gloria fell asleep she gave me instructions to reveal
information needed to help her sessions with you. I don’t know why she
did this, but the fact that it was done must have directed her mind in a different
way. This is the dream I had.

While sitting in a rocking chair waiting for someone to come to get me,
I found myself rising up, up, through the ceiling, up through the roof of my
house and I continued this floating till I was so high that all I could hear was
the whisper of clouds as they passed by me – I continued to rise – weightless
just like a feather and I wasn’t afraid even when I saw that I was in outer
space. Beneath me the earth was just a large round ball – only oceans and
continents could be seen and I thought this must be what the astronauts see
on their trips to the moon – it was exciting – total stillness – complete peace
and my soul felt free in that I was beyond troubles, fears, guilt, anxieties – I
felt I was in a sacred place – a place filled with love – unlimited love and
peace.

Even now I can feel as if I’m still in that relaxing home of peace. The
dream did not end there – suddenly I was back and near a railroad track
watching trains going by and I felt trapped – locked in and blocked as if
my problems were fencing me in, and I wanted to get on the train where
it stopped but it was too difficult to move and I saw an angel not too faraway sitting on a white horse and he smiled and I smiled back and told him,
“Watch out you don’t ride that horse too fast or your wings will get clipped
off,” he answered, “Don’t worry about me, I have risen above all that,”
and when I said, “I wish I could,” he answered, “Your trip would be less
dangerous if you could remember one word I’m going to give you which
is SOAP – think on that – no, no I don’t mean clean yourself, it has to do
with negative emotions from the past, you have a clue now “soap” it is very
important that you remember this.”

It made no sense to me, I was about to inquire for more when the angel and the horse and the train were gone and I started to run across the railroad tracks till I came to two roads and ahead of one road I could see a cross on top of a white building and steps leading
to it and each step had the word “soap” printed on it.

The other road was filled with flowers on both sides of it – I started to go by the road of
flowers and changed my mind and headed for the road with the cross and
I woke up still wondering why I had chosen the way I had, because when I
entered the road with the cross, I could see seven white horses at the top of
the road and it seemed impossible that I’d get to where I had intended to
go – but even now the word SOAP fills me with emotions of terror just as
it did in the dream. I don’t know why – except that it does – the word soap
meant nothing except an object till I had this dream though. Well, time to
stop and go face the seven white horses to see if I can get some more information
and I hope Gloria doesn’t give me any more instructions before
going to sleep or I’ll keep awake.

Hope too, that you can make some sense out of this dream because I
can’t.

Gloria’s Helper

The Pyramid Lady: I can’t consider you a thief or a likely candidate for prison or a nervous breakdown Gloria

Gloria Rising pgs. 106-108

AUTOMATIC LETTER 77

Wednesday night

Dear Nice Person,

I’ve had a chance to read Gloria’s letter from the North Pole signed
Santa Claus (actually from you) over and over again – you’ve handed me
such a jumble of sweet emotions; you’ve stretched my capacity to care way off- thanks to you Adam my definition of love will never be the same. The best
part of coming to you, in talks like this, or at “our home away from home”
(your office) is you, and knowing you’ll be there.
You are the foundation, the base Gloria and I need to touch in good
times and bad. No matter how you feel about anything else your feelings
toward us are always the same. You’re available for support, reassurance,
counsel and during a crisis even physical help. Be assured we won’t take
advantage of your goodness but what you have done for us (Gloria and I)
will help us to draw strength from – every day of our life. For this precious
gift I cannot thank you enough. I had to tell you this before going into
Gloria’s dreams.
A little girl is in her bed – she has been accused of stealing a lot of money
and has been found in a closet with the money in the pocket of a dress – her
parents have reassured her that they didn’t believe she took the money even
after she confessed through fright that she did steal it. No wonder she’s
sleepy after this ordeal. In her dream she stares at the crucifix above the bed
then closes her eyes – the small figure on the crucifix had seemed to lean
forward as if preparing to jump off the cross and onto her pillow.
She sleeps and dreams she is in prison – endless corridors of cells
whose windows looked out on nothing but bars and policemen with guns
to shoot anyone who moved. One part of her wants to die – the other part
of her mind is shut off like a water faucet – eventually she will have to turn
it on – Later – Later she will have to think, to feel – now she has only to
move before the police come to get her.
Next, I see the little girl in the forest before the cemetery gates – the
worst are her feet – blood is all over them – she feels like all her bones
are broken like when the “Other” throws her across the wall – a little bird
draws near her – only it’s not a bird or a pigeon. It’s a little dove and it settles
gently on her head – the Pyramid Lady is there and she’s talking to the little
girl. I can hear her by going closer.
She’s saying, “I can’t consider you a thief or a likely candidate for
prison or a nervous breakdown Gloria (she knows her name?) I sense a real
strength in you more strength than you know is there – you’ve got internal reserves that ability to cope and to keep coping. Now remember don’t let
anyone tell you otherwise. I’ll help.”
Next, the little girl is at school and she’s in disgrace – the “Other” told
the principal that, “She’s been misbehaving very badly since we moved.
Telling lies and arguing all the time and now even stealing from her parents,
she took money hidden under carpets in the room. She took things
from my room and wouldn’t admit she had. Such a stupid lie as if anyone
else would have but she did admit to stealing last night when caught with all
that money. I don’t mind telling you. I’m beginning to wonder if she’s not
losing her mind. If anything gets taken tell the children where to look,” but
the children have heard everything and the little girl is hanging her head in
shame – a little boy is crying, “someone stole my crayons and I know who.”
Gloria is waking up in a cold sweat. She never stole anything. See you later.

Gloria’s Helper

So many Masks, So many Lies, So many Trapdoors that made the Little Girl fall through Darkness

Gloria Rising pgs.  93-94

AUTOMATIC LETTER 66

Sunday night

Dear “Jolly Green Giant,”

You are valued all the time but never more so than when I can tell
you about Gloria’s nightmares and know that you will understand. Like in
tonight’s dream the “Other” told Gloria she was going to be a vegetable, so
many times that I’m surprised she didn’t end up in the ground like a vegetable.
We’ve got to cut it out, stop dreaming this frightening, senseless garbage.
A bad dream, something I have to push myself up from, raising my
fists in the air, sitting upright with my eyes wide open. I’m thinking of
the dream again – Gloria had been involved though I’m not sure how – it
had something to do with masks and marbleized people. I remember now.
Gloria’s eyes were covered by a pink mask and she took it off to show me
the other eye that was in the middle of the two eyes – the three eyed marvel
and something painful happened she was thrown into a large box by the
“Other” – close it off now the dream – close it – close it right off, right away!

Same night – Sunday

Hi again,
I became very much afraid earlier tonight and had to leave off – I’m
back now. I’m at the dream where the “Other” threw Gloria in a box –
he found out she had dug up the grave of the little child, Joshua, and she
couldn’t lie anymore – the bolted door – all the nightmare pain flows from
down there – no tears though – quietly the little girl has accepted the fact that she had to take pain to keep the “Other” calm – she always lived with
the knowledge that there were things to be done to keep the peace – the
fact was always there – he expected her not to cry – not to scream – not to
yell – but it’s so awful to step across a threshold and never know what you’re
going to see – you can’t imagine like when white light comes to you and
fragments of the puzzle burns clearer – it takes so much patience – suddenly
I realize I want to cry, really cry but I don’t because tears always seem such
a waste of energy, such an indulgence but there is pain in my heart – one
pain I can’t stand – tears because the little girl is going to be hurt again
very badly this time. I must stop this now – I’m sorry, really sorry to stop
here but I just have to – please try to understand – there have been so many
masks, so many lies, so many trapdoors that made the little girl fall through
darkness and now she’s about to go into a place that will make her lost forever
and I can’t stand this anymore. I have to stop now before it’s too late.
I’m very sorry – please (if you can) help – please.

Gloria’s Helper

The Woman with an Extra Eye said something Odd

Gloria Rising pg. 90

AUTOMATIC LETTER 63

Thursday night

Dear Adam,

Strange dreams tonight. Saw the woman with an extra eye in the middle
of her forehead and she said something kind of odd. She said, “Take
a wall with a door. No one has ever been beyond that wall. Perhaps they
never will. While the door remains closed anything you want can be on
the other side – a country, or hell or any scene imaginable. There can be
flowers or fires – grass, marble pillars, mountains, planets, cities beneath
the sea, now do you see?” Gloria shook her head, “I’m trying very hard
but I don’t know where this is leading to. The door’s been opened for me.
I’ve seen behind it already.” “You’ve seen what has been some imagination
and some truth,” replied the lady. “Now, you must see all the truth and it’s
going to take work and time. You must write your dreams, no matter how
silly they seem to you.” Then she ran off and I found myself in a fenced
in circus ground. The Ferris wheel spun slowly, dazzling the eyes with its
rows of colored lights. In fact every building, tent and caravan trailer was
brightly lit. The lights, the music, the looks of people created a certain kind
of magic I’d never expected. Music from a dozen sources was playing and
to my utmost surprise those hundreds of casually dressed people streaming
through the gates created great excitement with their anticipation of having
a wonderful time.
Flushed parents held fast to the hands of children who wanted to run
wild and explore and suddenly I remembered the great circus fire, I had
been too with my brother in Connecticut where hundreds had died, and
I remembered the little girl without a tombstone and glancing up, I saw
the Pyramid Lady who said, “See it’s not always imagination behind the
wall,” and she was gone again. Not much sense to this dream but there
it is.

Gloria’s Helper