Revelations of the Aquarian Age

by Barbara Hand Clow

  “I agree with you. The battles over religions are dredging up all the worst Piscean elements,” Claudia interjected thoughtfully. “Lorenzo, I’ve noticed that symbols can drive people mad. They find unusual things within and then begin to sing to odd tunes while the people around them begin to think they’re nuts. And, if I didn’t believe war will end eventually, I would go mad myself.”

  “True, my love, and the reason I’m in business. During times like these, people need to sort out their inner urgency to maintain their sanity. Analysis of our psyches seems to be a necessity when the Great Ages shift, exactly what Jung came to believe when he detected the early Aquarian vibrations coming in a hundred years ago. Such a genius he was! He could see that two thousand years ago, people anticipated the Age of Pisces because the Pythagorean and Greek Mystery schools were guiding people by the Great Ages. That’s why people were waiting for a messiah, and some used mushrooms and hallucinatory drugs to probe their psyches for the signs of Pisces. Back then many people still accessed many dimensions, yet Jung could see that people in his times had lost this sense of the recurrent changing times; they were lost as people are now. These days people use drugs to get high but learn nothing from the experience, and very few explore themselves within or receive initiation from wisdom schools.”

  Sarah leaned forward betraying her excitement. “Yes! That’s exactly why I’m delving into what was going on when the Age of Aries began to shift into Pisces around 200 BC, a time when many people could still feel the higher and lower dimensions penetrating their realm. They were obsessed with psychic boundaries and sought personal liberty by accessing other worlds. This rich cultural period ran the gamut of Greek and Roman licentiousness, Jewish righteousness, Stoic self-control, and potent alchemical experimentations like the Eleusinian Rites in Greece and the last vestiges of the initiation schools in Egypt. However, when the early Piscean vibrations flowed in, the powers-that-be manipulated people to control their access to higher and lower realms by herding them into religions devoid of the ancient wisdom. How do you handle their repression and the change of the ages in analysis?”

  “Not easily, it’s gotten worse with time, and I’m thrilled you are exploring the previous change of the ages. I’m having trouble keeping my own sanity during this shift, yet quantum physics guides me. As the Aquarian archetype intensifies, quantum principles are making sense to more and more people. Turning to science, the Age of Aquarius inspires us to seek our personal uniqueness in the cosmos again, very much like lone particles on a trajectory that are unaware of all the other particles. Regarding particle/wave duality, when my imagination ignites, it feels good to flip into a wave. These new perspectives boggle the logical mind—exactly what we need! Wave consciousness is working miracles for more and more people, yet we all struggle to understand the quantum world, even physicists do, because we have been mind-controlled by religions that constricted spirituality into a narrow channel for two thousand years. But now the proverbial Pandora’s lid is lifting and we’re flooding out of the channel.”

  Claudia broke in. “Quantum entanglement describes how couples join. Lorenzo and I bumped into each other at the wedding like two Leibniz monads rolling along solo. From that moment on, it was impossible to do anything but be together, simply impossible! I know the same thing happened to you two, yet now you are forced to be apart most of the time. How does that work for you? Does quantum physics have any comfort for you in your situation?”

  “I’ll take that one,” said Simon in an articulate voice. “The model for what Sarah and I are experiencing is quantum entanglement. When I’m somewhere doing something, say having a meeting in two weeks with Copts in Upper Egypt, Sarah might be here in Rome investigating some obscure early Christian philosophy. We are in very close communication regarding where we are and when, and what we think about. This entangles and weaves our lives, gives us meaning. Like the two of you, we bumped into each other on a magical Roman day when nothing was expected; it just happened and everything changed. Real love is quantum entanglement—communication through light waves and many dimensions that create reality—and then we can find our other half. All we have to do is keep the fire burning, which we easily do because we are not merely separate particles. The quantum helps me make sense of the world, not easy in the Middle East. When Sarah and I are in wave form, not in separate particle form, we are one.”

  “And,” Sarah added with determination, “there is more to it than that. In ancient Egypt, the great mystery was the triad—Father/ Mother/Child—as the cultural ideal, for example, Osiris/Isis/Horus. I have it easier than Simon because I live with Teresa, the magical bridge between us as parents. Triads—links through the generations as we move through the Great Ages—pass wisdom down through time. Our child opens the door to the coming age. As the Aquarian Age arrives, parents and grandparents can see that each child is born with more knowledge than preceding people. When in the presence of our child, we flow in the waves of the new time. Simon flows with me, so even when he is away, he still is with Teresa in the now. When I’m with her, he is with us; she amazes us. We can see that evolution is proceeding on schedule even though the structures of the world are devolving at this time.”

  The cavernous room fell into a delicious pregnant silence. Sarah’s angelic face radiating knowledge and love captivated Lorenzo. My God, she is a saint. This is what painters try to capture when they paint the Madonna. Claudia gazed into Sarah’s green eyes, clear and peaceful as a high mountain spring. She recalled that day Sarah cradled her, held her like a mother, after she’d told the story of Armando’s hideous abuse.

  11

  Jasmine

  Jennifer’s first appointment with Lorenzo was in early November. She explained there was no reason to feel jealous, yet she suffered irrational attacks and terrible anger whenever a certain lady was near her husband. “She was his lover for many years, it ended, but I go crazy when she’s around. Once I married him, we were all supposed to be friends, but I want to mutilate her.”

  Lorenzo knew it must be Claudia as personal thoughts ran through his mind. If it’s Claudia, I’m not sure I can help. She’s going to realize I’m in love with Claudia, and would that interfere? Yet, she may destroy her marriage without my help. What do I do?

  “Jennifer,” he said in a kind and thoughtful voice, “I’ve been thinking while you’ve been describing your feelings. I’ve helped clients get beyond jealousy, a horrible emotion that can tear up your life. Armando loves you; it would be crazy to let this go on. But, there is something going on in my life that could be a problem . . . I may I know this woman. I need you to tell me her name to make sure.”

  “Her name is Claudia Tagliatti,” Jennifer said in a hesitant suspicious voice. Why does he need to know her name?

  “That is what I thought. Claudia and I have fallen in love, and we are very serious about each other. You may recall we met at your wedding?” Jennifer sat bolt upright. She didn’t know what to say, so he continued. “This is not necessarily a problem, since often when one is plagued by jealousy, it is not actually caused by the person that makes them feel jealous. In this case, I really don’t think so. But I may be too close to the situation. That is what you must decide.”

  “Dr. Giannini,” Jennifer replied respectfully after a pause. “Claudia is not after Armando, and I am sure Armando is not attracted to her. Yet, still I am tortured. It’s driving me mad! You probably are the best person for me because you know all about his past and know their love affair is long dead, so dead that now they are dear friends. I can easily see why you love her after seeing you together at my wedding; I wondered then. Your relationship with her doesn’t matter. I realize it is really about me. These irrational feelings terrify me.”

  “All right, now that this tie is acknowledged, we can work together to release you from this obsession. The meaningful patterns just below the surface of your mind will amaze you. You are safe and private here, your time to consider things that disturb
you just when you should be so happy. You have your whole life ahead of you—children, travel, being a Pierleoni. Please recline here so we can get started.”

  Jennifer lay back on the dark green analyst’s couch listening to Lorenzo’s compassionate voice gradually going deeper and then becoming hypnotic. “Now Jennifer, please call me Lorenzo because we are friends and I’m here to help you. I’d like you to tune in to a scene with Armando when you felt jealous of Claudia; please just say the first thing that comes into your mind. Doesn’t matter what it is: a color, an animal, a person, anything. You may close your eyes if you like.”

  Jennifer closed her eyes when she felt the air in the room thicken. Street sounds and screaming seagulls drifted off and away . . . A raven gurgled deep in its throat, drifted away . . . She went back to the first time she felt jealous, the day they had lunch with Claudia in Tuscany after Claudia had been alone with Armando in his studio. She visualized Claudia’s face in the dining room. “I hate her.”

  “Why?” Lorenzo asked in a curious voice.

  “I hate her because she’s beautiful,” she said nastily.

  Lorenzo reached for a clear tall quartz crystal that had a thin shank topped by a larger tip that looked like a crystal penis. It fit exactly into his left hand as he rubbed the shaft. “Is that all?”

  “I hate her because she slept with him.”

  Lorenzo reached for a shorter crystal also shaped like a penis and gripped it in his right hand. There sat the famous Lorenzo Giannini with a crystal penis in each hand with his thumbs rubbing the heads, a reason to sit invisibly behind his clients. “Jennifer, I sense you know something more about why you feel this way. What is it?” His voice was silvery and dripping with curiosity.

  A sickeningly sweet aroma pervaded the room that made Jennifer spacey. Lorenzo’s crystals became heavy; he waited. “Jasmine,” she choked. “I smell jasmine. I hate Jasmine.”

  “But, jasmine is a lovely tree with an exquisite aroma. Why do you hate jasmine, Jennifer?”

  “I can’t talk about her.” Jennifer replied loudly. The crystal in his left hand made a snapping sound as he gripped it unconsciously.

  “Her?”

  “Yes, her, her name is Jasmine, my ex-lover’s wife. She had it all: his children, his home, and his life. He wanted me not her, but she would not let him go. I was his lover for three fucking years! He loved to fuck me, not her. I wanted to murder her—even thought about it. Eventually he dumped me and stayed with her.”

  Lorenzo gripped the crystal in his right hand more firmly. “Was Jasmine jealous of you?”

  “Of course she was and she should have been since I was fucking her husband, fucking his brains out all the time, everywhere, on the floor, on the desk, on the porch, in the car. He couldn’t stop himself.”

  “These days many people think they can just do what they want. Do you believe that now that you are married?” He paused, no answer, so he said firmly, “Did you think you could just have him if you wanted him regardless of his family? Was Jasmine jealous, tortured, and miserable?”

  Jennifer was softly weeping. “Of course I made her miserable and tortured her, and you know what? Until I felt this way myself, felt what she must have felt, I never thought about her. All I thought about was getting him, no matter who was in the way. When I seduced him the first time after photographing and touching him all day, he didn’t want to do it but he couldn’t stop himself. I entrapped him in my tangled sticky web. I blew up his photos and put them all over my apartment, feeding my obsession. He couldn’t keep away from me. His house was chaos with three little kids. The only good sex he got was with me because she was exhausted. Now I see what I did to her. I tried to steal something that belonged to her, and I was wrong. Now that I have a husband I love, Jasmine is coming back to haunt me. I deserve it.”

  Later, Lorenzo sat facing her going over his notes. “By being able to feel Jasmine’s pain, you will get beyond this jealousy. We need to stop now because of time. We made great progress today. You have a lot to think about, so I suggest we meet in a few weeks. Please go sit on the stone bench in the garden by the side of my parking place for a little while before you drive or walk home. Call me when you are ready to go more deeply into jealousy.”

  A strong Mediterranean storm lashing Rome frothed up whitecaps on the Tiber. Sarah was alone in her parlor staring at the gas flames of her fireplace. The wind made the copper gutters creak loudly and flapped the asphalt shingles on the building next door. Climate change is getting intense. Her parents called earlier because they couldn’t get out the door due to record-breaking snowstorms that had clogged the streets of Boston. Simon was supposed to be in Upper Egypt, but he’d been sent back to Iraq to investigate the rape and sexual slavery system that ISIS was inflicting on the Yazidis. Sarah kept herself calm by meditating and praying, but she was worried because she felt like he was trapped in a nightmare. Why? A gust of wind slammed the kitchen window—bang!—so she tiptoed back to Teresa’s crib to see if she’d been awakened. The toddler was sleeping soundly after a fussy afternoon asking for daddy to come home.

  Jennifer had stopped by and the visit left Sarah feeling unsettled. They talked about the storms pounding the Eastern U.S., and their parents. Jennifer muttered ruefully, “My father thinks the main ocean current that keeps the eastern U.S. and northern Europe warm in the winter may be slowing. If it is, the powers that be will hide the truth as long as possible so that they can figure out where to move and what to do with their assets. This cold spell is freaky. My mother hates it, and my father is really worried.”

  “My mother absolutely hates the cold, too, yet this snowstorm is worse. She can’t use her car and the sidewalks are treacherous.” For Sarah, the weather was the least of her problems. Teresa had been very upset when Simon departed the second time. She constantly soothed her, but both of them were insecure without him.

  “I’ve come to share something with you. I’m seeing Lorenzo Giannini for counseling, and he’s wonderful.”

  “What for?” Sarah sounded surprised. “Aren’t things going well with Armando? I thought they were when we were all together in Tuscany.”

  “Yes, things are going well for the most part. But I’m tortured by jealousy, a caustic and destructive emotion. There is no reason to be jealous of him. So, I need to understand myself better.”

  “Who makes you jealous?” Sarah asked as Jennifer shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

  “Well, that’s why I came to see you. I’m insanely jealous of Claudia. I know she’s your friend, but does it ever bother you that she is so beautiful and exotic?”

  “She is beautiful and exotic, but so are you, Jen,” Sarah replied firmly. “Claudia was dating Simon when I met him, so you’d think I’d be jealous! But I’m not, because she isn’t the type to steal someone’s husband. Claudia is honest, very aware of bad karma, and doesn’t play nasty games. Since it’s soon to be no secret, Claudia has fallen madly in love with Lorenzo! Simon and I had dinner with them a few weeks ago and I’ve never seen two people so in love.”

  “Claudia dated Simon? I never heard that,” Jennifer said staring open mouthed at Sarah. “Did she date him a lot? She gets around!”

  “I don’t really know, and I didn’t care because Simon introduced me to her very soon after our wedding, smart of him because she became my first friend in Rome. They saw each other for a year or two but not frequently I think. Simon loved spending time with her because she’s so intelligent and charming. He still does.”

  “See, that’s what’s odd about Claudia and Armando—she’s so much more intellectual than he is. I don’t know much about their affair because we agreed to not talk about our past relationships before we married. But, you once knew Armando well, so can you figure out why they were together?”

  This question bothered Sarah because Jennifer’s tone was snide, and she was trying to pry even though she’d already said she and Armando had agreed not to talk about past affairs. Sarah said nonch
alantly, “Oh, I suppose they were young, great-looking Romans who loved art. I suppose that’s why they were together.” Jennifer’s needy and veiled eyes suggested something hidden. Sometimes it’s hard to believe Simon and Jen are from the same family; her boundaries are lousy. “Well, Jen, why are you jealous of Claudia?”

  “Lorenzo and I are digging into my past to find out. Well, I should go now. If Teresa wakes up and sees me, she’ll think of Simon.” Off she rushed.

  The encounter put Sarah on edge. She wondered how much Jennifer knew about her relationship with Armando a few years ago. Probably not much, since she says they didn’t talk about the past, good thing. Sarah got out a box of crystals, and as she lifted the lid, her ruby crystal ring started vibrating. Yes, there’s something I must know. The gutter creaked again and the kitchen window rattled, but not as loudly. She took out a small crystal ball that was absolutely clear except for two dramatic planar fractures that she stared into. “What do I need to know?”

  Her stomach tightened. His face floated in a plane, the bastard who raped her in a previous lifetime in Portugal. She wanted to look away but she’d asked the question. The ugly scene unfolded again: The duke taking her the night before her wedding because he had first rights. After she married, constantly he tried to catch her alone and she never felt safe again. She wanted to avert her eyes, but had to know. Then there it was, even though the rape was harsh and cruel, she responded to him when her soul took flight as he fucked away. After that, she felt nothing during sex with her husband, nothing for her whole life even though she loved him. Oh my God. Think of the Yazidi women and girls. No wonder Simon cares about them so much.