The Book of Daniel and the Mystery of the Resurrection Machine

by Holloway, Daniel;

  This can be understood by realizing that the light we are seeing from the stars at night is literally millions and even billions of years old. Like an old recording, we are not seeing the stars as they now appear, but as they once did in the remote and distant past. At that distance and even at the speed of light it takes their visage countless years to reach your eyes.

  Likewise every occurrence that has ever happened within this physical universe is recorded in an ever-expanding visual journey as it travels across that grandiose distance of space. It’s like a history of our universe past, yet it arrives as a live-streaming video feed to the collective consciousness of this world. Likewise, if we see someone running at a distance of only 100 feet away, the speed of light brings us that image almost instantaneously.

  But what if that same occurrence could be seen at a distance as far away as the sun? How long would it take for the images to appear? The answer: about 8 minutes and 20 seconds. Now, just because there isn’t a human eye to see it doesn’t mean that the visual occurrence isn’t still traveling across space. Indeed it is still traveling much like a streaming video.

  Every moment of everything that has ever happened is still traveling across this universe in which we live. From the time we are born to the time we die, a never-ending broadcast of our life is given to the empty space in which we travel. Spreading outward from its center and still-going, visually, across space, is every single moment that has ever happened. This is how the universe expands.

  There are only so many things that I can tell you as even in today’s sky-is-thelimit age, there’s only so much the human mind can hear and receive. What I will say is that the mind of the collective saw all things from one end of this universe to the other, past and present, all at the exact same moment. There is no way to list them all; there is no way to imagine them all. There are no numbers that will count how many moments of how many lives I witnessed. So many odd creatures…

  They were all the same too, in that they were all creatures of the same forming-physics of this universe. Whether from Earth or a life-form from other planets, all the beings I saw were formed from the mental matrix of this dimension. The physics that forms one, forms the rest. I hesitate to tell you simply because it’s so beyond the accepted norms of our beliefs and knowledge, but I swear I saw them all and became them all.

  In the mind and state of existence in which I found myself, I could view and comprehend all of these images simultaneously. The wild thing is that I viewed those videos from two perspectives: from an outsider’s viewpoint, as well as from the mind of the creature itself. The view from the creature’s perspective was unique in that I experienced their lives first person. Not just creatures however, but everything, even star explosions or other events. I was absorbing it all.

  Just like the light that is arriving from those stars from millions of light years in the past, they are still arriving to our eyes as brand-new and omnipresent images. Likewise, just because we ran across a field as a child 40 years ago, doesn’t mean that the image isn’t brand-new as it arrives at ever-farther locations throughout space. The recording of our entire life is the same way: traveling forever. This of course is only a metaphoric attempt at explaining the experience of which I speak.

  And yet I would find that even the scope and scale of all this experience was still only the collective mind of this universe. There was so much more to come though the scope and scale of the experience that thus far was astounding. The enormity of this universe and the countless experiences within it are unbelievable beyond words!

  The boundary of the physical universe is not so difficult to describe. It’s like the edge of our thoughts perhaps, much as the limits of our learning—a bit fuzzy and gray to the imagination as our minds expand. We push to perceive, but beyond the limit of our comprehension it begins to get cloudy… Behind it however is that which we do know and articulate, the solid matter and reality that follows everything we learn.

  The edge of the universe and the mind of the collective within it are this way as well. It is far from being well-defined yet still expands into nothingness, from nothing into something. There, some of the dust and stars follow it as it goes, though most is empty space. I saw the edge as dust, smoky and gray, yet ever-pushing and expanding. Beyond this I can’t say…but beyond this was the ungrund.

  But then it all stopped; all my seeing, all my being, all the grandiose size ceased. My mind was gone again, narrowed instantly. I found myself, an individual soul again hanging in space and peering across the great emptiness. It was like looking in one direction as far as you can see on a clear night across the stars.

  Then behind me, that light. Behind my mind’s eye, a glorious and overwhelming white brilliance. It resonated in power as it shined beyond and past my being. This was just as it had been from three years before in my dream of the portal. The sparkles, they were… atomic; each one glistening, descending as the waves of a gentle sea. Like the serpent of my dream years before, the light emanated truth and wisdom; its waves slithering into space and time. They were—alive, within them a mind, that mind. . .

  Once again my view turned to see the source of the light and what it would be. Like the replay of a movie, every part of this was the same as before. Here I was, in the unfathomable expanse, presented before the great attractor, an irresistible presence and the doorway to another dimension. Just like before, I felt its pull upon my being, my soul reconfiguring as I hovered ever closer.

  This time was different however, for now I felt its rays piercing the very depth of my soul. I not only saw the light but was becoming it as I neared the portal to which I turned. This time I knew full well even before I beheld its visage: a pleasant comfort and the secure embrace of its power. This was my own event horizon, the threshold of another reality that I was about to cross and into.

  Finally in full view: an overwhelming sight of beauty and power. There it was, a rip in the very fabric of space, seemingly no bigger in circumference than a simple door is tall. It seemed that size, but round, beaming with a silent magnificence and an energy beyond description. My speed now increased toward it. I felt my being absorbed ever more as I went through—a quick vacuum as an irresistible power took me across and through to the other side; a mere blink, and I was gone forever. . .

  As this occurred my consciousness instantly changed. There, in this new dimension, there is only so much I can tell you. It was a different knowing, a much higher understanding, a wisdom and love above all things in this universe. Yet it was the same familiar burst of energy that I’d felt many years before when a little old man touched my outstretched hand while standing in that dusty, dirty truck lot. This time it was even more powerful; and this time I was one with that power, one with that wisdom and one with that unfathomable love.

  This new dimension was unlike anything that can be uttered with human words or expression. Words like “beautiful”, “boundless”, “eternal”, “without end”, “love” and “God”, are all pitiful attempts from a pitiful creature to explain something that flat-out is not of this world. In that dimension there is no such thing as time or space; there are no separate beings; there is only light unlike the light of this world. It lasts forever inside of a glory and power infinitely beyond human understanding. It is both perfect and powerful yet entirely peaceful beyond imagination.

  The world in which we live spins: everything spins: the Earth, the sun, the planets, the galaxies, a black hole, and even the universe itself. Here, we spin as well; our minds twist and turn in struggle every day: “What should I do?” and “What should I say?”—manipulation, control, dominance, strife, advantage. But there, in that place, there was no more spin, but only peace and power beyond all words or understanding.

  It emitted yet without space or time—endless, priceless, beyond quantification, beyond description. It was—forever, without words or language, without race, creed or gender. There are simply no words, no words to describe that—thing, that place, that bei
ng, that mind, that light.

  It is eternal, without time, outside of time, beyond it. It goes on forever and without end. It is the power of eternity and safe beyond all corruption. How can pure, undefined light be so fulfilling? Because therein is the transformed essence of every thought and every experience that the universe has ever had. Whether grand or small, every imagination in this universe, every being that ever lived and died, is changed and absorbed within that light. It is a purified Element: un-dark. There all the negative explodes into an infinite multiplication of glorious power.

  Whether that world is large or small is impossible to say simply because it doesn’t exist in space and time. I suppose therefore, it is neither. In it however, I heard a pulse somehow, a rhythmic pulse of reverberation, the constant deep voice of a choir in unison: rumm, rumm, rumm, rumm, rumm, rumm, rumm—like a heartbeat. It expanded and contracted with infinite power. I could feel it without ceasing, the breathing of God.

  There was no me there. There, I was that mind and I was that dimension forever, without end. The experience lasted forever—more than many millions of years, but all in a moment, the measurement of time, inapplicable. It was not a consciousness as we know it, but rather a super-consciousness—so far beyond thought or deed, yet quiet as even the most still waters, serene beyond imagination.

  The word “love” cannot communicate the depth of the person we call God. Love is not something He has, but rather who He is. It is—He is, the end-all, be-all entity; it exceeds anything else and everything else; it is so much more than I had ever believed in or hoped for, far deeper and more profound in every capacity than I know how to tell. In that love, everything before it, everything of all space and time has its perfect purpose: the past the present and the future all as one. There everything made sense in perfect rhyme, reason and sequence, even the horrible suffering of this world. To know what God knows; to see what God sees; to have the God-consciousness of all things.

  But for all of its grandeur, for all its impeccable perfection, its indescribable peace, love and joy, that glorious dimension still sees this world and stands in awe and admiration of its sacrifice, an irresistible beauty in its weakness as even the Almighty knows it will bring Him an heir of life. This is not a mythical history story, but the spirit of sacrifice that all our lives have been. It knows that the pain and sufferings of this world are, in fact, the bloodline that feeds that higher dimension; that our sufferings here, though unintended, keep Him alive there.

  It is this great conveyor belt of life that also ensures our eternity as well, for in Him we find ourselves or nothing at all. Indeed, in the same way that our food dies to bring us life, so does our suffering and death become the lifeline of God in Heaven. There, we become Him.

  Some will say; “What if the sun dies? What then? As such there can be no portal and thus no food for Heaven.” This universe has many such restaurants from which God can eat, many planetary arrangements and creatures from which to pull the suffering of this dark dimension. Likewise, the Earth upon which you find yourself, is only one of many. Yet even when this universe eventually dies, as it eventually will, there are countless other universes all of which supply the one and only dimension of Heaven.

  So while the divine has quite the harem of physical universes from which to choose, all of which bring life, by the very matrix of its makeup there can be only one Heaven. This is the nature of the divine, for in that transformed dimension He is a giving God, a loving God, a God of all and the same God in which we will all one day partake. The Father, the Mother, the child, are all only pictorial of the dimensions themselves, each of which are ultimately only different facets of the same person of God.

  God is all-powerful too. Yet in the anatomy of God, things work a specific way simply because it is the only way that things can work. Upon the sharp tip of a needle is the whole of Heaven, for therein is the way and the life and, for what you will come to learn, the resurrection. Surely I lived this, I was this, and I remember this forever.

  …Suddenly however, as I lived within that wonderful bliss, in a moment, all things stopped; the peace, the power, the glory, all ceased. Now was a new stillness. I found myself, the mind of God, again suspended within the abyss of space. I entered if but only for a moment, this universe. There I hung quietly upon the edge of some invisible force that surrounds this planet. I rested upon the cusp of a magnetic-energy, God, upon it, a part of that mind beginning to tangle within it.

  I beheld this planet with a focus that before didn’t exist within the light. What I saw was a dying people to whom, somehow, I was pulled toward. They were lost, so lost. Within me was a sudden pity for this place, now the essence of a tear within me. It was very powerful and very precious; the awareness in that moment. I knew that they had all forgotten, each one oblivious to those around them. They did not know me; how could they not know me? I felt a sudden weakness in the question.

  I began to feel myself drained of energy, a separation of my being into two equal parts, a split in my mind and of who I was. I saw souls, many small flickers of light being sapped from the Source. Like so many bits of energy floating from behind me and downward toward the Earth, and with them I too was being drawn ever farther from the light. I was entering space and time.

  With this discomfort a realization, myself now in two, a conversation between them. Now a giver of will and an obedient-receiver of that directive, the exchange between a father and a son. It came as a simple yet solemn command:

  “I send you: -I go”…

  Upon this the light of the portal behind me extinguished. With it now the God-consciousness instantly ended. I fell now at great speed upon a seemingly predetermined arch of descent. The fall was terrible, violent, screaming in fear, a shriek of uncontrolled terror and confusion as I was hurled toward this hapless mass of rock.

  It happened quickly; that energy that had me, propelled me at an unbelievable speed, -the speed of the magnetism that had somehow captured my mind. Yet I remember, vaguely, colors of light in a blur followed by a slight slowing as I fell through the clouds, then the shock of a horrible crash.

  With great violence I was slammed inside some vessel or container, -a lump of flesh and blood: and then, for a brief flickering moment, I sat there suspended, no longer in the body of God, but in the body of one who I knew not—still falling off the counter, the clock still changing from 3:27 to 3:28. No time had transpired since the beginning of this miraculous journey, not even a moment.

  …Yet oddly, somehow, I remembered falling like this before. I remember this horror as if a rerun from a long-lost time. It was long, long ago—a déjà vu from another chapter in some distant past. I recalled in that moment not only the horror but also the recollection of a parched desert just before a great mountain. The images were vague but real.

  I awoke, then, I remembered, -in the body of one. Who he was, at first, I could not say—a strange being like so many others in this universe. I awoke in him, naked, yet aglow with the power of God. There I stood upon the edge of that place, barren and desolate. To the horizon, its appearance, purplish-blue, a distant range. Where was I? Who was this person? Yet somehow I knew this was where I was supposed to be.

  He began to walk, with no food or water, fed by the fusion within, irradiating the creature in which I walked. I took that body, not by choice, but by proximity. In that body, I assumed control, the choosing not of my own and even less of his: no thoughts on how to sustain the life of this creature in which I now dwelt.

  I was driven by a knowledge, the power of who I was. Who am I? I am; I am. With no shame or tepidness, only great strides of confidence, I walked as one possessed; I focused upon those hills nonstop for three days.

  I weakened over time, a cooling of my being—and then—SMACK! I hit the floor like a bag of bricks, eyes wide open, my being stuck in some foreign mass. I lay staring at the base-board of the cabinets, in shock, but somehow still radiating with the love of the creature I was before—not a possess
ion mind you, but the Element that I was in the light of Heaven. There I lay; I did not and could not move.

  This is where the real problems began, because as I lay there, I didn’t know who I was or what I was. I didn’t know my name or even what a name was. I didn’t know where I was or why I was there. I began to hear a loud groaning. What was this noise? It was me, this entity, this being, from the body I now inhabited. Oh my God, the pain. Weakly I called: Help, help!

  Over the course of the next hour my consciousness returned, slowly of course, yet I could not recover from the shock. I still reached within for the light. I lay upon the kitchen floor, motionless. I awoke to the realization that the overwhelming pain I felt was normal. Pain is part of this life, yet because we have nothing with which to remember or compare, we instead accept the agony as “feeling good”.

  Remember, I had just left perfection, the highest of all dimensions in which there was no pain or suffering. Now I found myself in wretchedness, a trap, a nightmare, a torture, this humiliation, this hell. I understand now: this is what the angels did before me. They too fell through that same doorway, those same flickers of light from the portal. Yet where did they go? What was their fate?

  Over the next three days I said nothing. My wife, understandably worried, asked her mother for help, to visit and to talk. They were concerned and completely clueless as to what happened. Yet what could I say to explain? Speech was meaningless and pitiful. What was there that I could say or do compared to that experience and that place?

  “Daniel; are you okay?” The question was pointless and not worth answering.

  “Please tell us what is wrong!” How could I even begin to answer?