Esto es Mexico 01

Grandfather said that there was not future, only possible futures. The ‘now’ was like the palm of a hand, with each finger being the possible future, and, as always, one of the futures was always the most powerful, the way that the main course of events would surely take us. Thus his predictions were of the possible future, which meant that he always left a choice.

“If a man could make the right choices,” he said, “then he could significantly alter the course of the possible future. No man, then, should feel insignificant, for it only takes one man to alter the consciousness of mankind through the Spirit-that-moves-in-all-things. In essence, one thought influences another, then another, until the thought is made manifest throughout all of Creation. It is the same thought, the same force, that causes an entire flock of birds to change course, as the flock then has one mind.”

Out of all the personal and major prophecies that Grandfather foretold, there are four that stand out above all the rest. It is these four that mark the destruction of man and life on Earth, as we know it to exist now. Yet Grandfather said that we could still change things, even after the first two prophecies came true, but that there could be no turning back after the third.

Now that we have gone well past the second prophecy, danger and destruction are very apparent, and our only recourse is to work harder to change what has possibly become the inevitable. The urgency that I feel-now, more than ever-is a direct result of the second, impossible prophecy coming true. It is the reason that I teach, sometimes with a certain desperation, and constantly with the sense that we are quickly running out of time.

I should have worked harder and with that same desperation at a much earlier date, but, like the rest of mankind, it took a strong message to get me motivated. I should have known that these things he prophesied would some day come true, because his personal, minor predictions were coming true daily.

Yet with all of this coming true on a daily basis, I simply would not believe or accept that the major prophecy of man’s destruction would come true, and its reality hit me hard. It was then that the urgency made itself known.

I remember so vividly the “night of the four prophecies”-as I have become accustomed to calling that night when Grandfather first made us aware of their possibility. We had been with Grandfather for five years at the time and were accustomed to his prophecies and their accuracy.

Our ability to understand the things of the Spirit world were as sure as our ability to survive and track. Very little of what society calls “the paranormal” shocked us any more, because miracles were part of our everyday existence. Grandfather was a living miracle, and so many of the things that he did on a daily basis, sometimes unconsciously, would be considered miraculous by most. Yet as savvy as we were spiritually, the night of the four prophecies shocked us like nothing we had ever experienced before.

We had been hiking all day without much of a break, making our way to a place where we were going to camp, atop a small hill that I now call Prophecy Hill. It was a typical midsummer hike: hot, humid and dusty, with no water available along our entire travel route. As usual, we still took time to stop frequently or take side trips to explore various areas along our route. The adventure and exploration kept us fresh and eager, making the fatigue, heat and thirst hardly factors.

Many times along the way, Grandfather would stop and teach us-not physical lessons of survival, tracking or awareness, but lessons dealing with the awareness of Spirit. Very often he would discuss the future and, almost as frequently, the past-the distant past.

At one point we stopped along the deer trail we were travelling and followed Grandfather through some heavy brush. The trees and shrubs were far different than those throughout the rest of the Pine Barrens, and I immediately knew this place as an old homestead or town of some sort. Even though the buildings had long since rotted away, the plants and trees still marked the spot where civilisation had once stood. Passing through several very thick areas, we finally entered a grove of very tall, old sycamore trees. From their branches and up their trunks ran huge vines, the kind one might imagine finding in a jungle. In fact, the whole place looked like a jungle-so out of place from the pine, oak and blueberry that is typical in the Pine Barrens. As we sat down, a deeper spiritual sense of awareness came over me, and it was then that I noticed the gravestones.