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Temple of Isis Ceremony – Me, Hatshepsut Queen??

10 APRIL 2002

An interesting event occurred two days ago. It was probably the weirdest spiritual encounter that ever happened to me yet. I've been interested in finding out what goes on in Reno as far as religious activities go. Damian pointed out that I should probably look in the phone book, as there's a list of all the churches and organizations active in the vicinity.

As we started looking, an intriguing sounding group struck my eyes. It was called Temple of Isis, and the phone number was given for information regarding weekly ceremonies in Virginia City, NV. Not thinking twice, I dialed the number and received a welcoming invitation to the upcoming meeting.

We went there last week, only to discover that the temple was located in the group organizer's basement, which was a small windowless room decorated in an ancient Egyptian style. Isis' figurines and paintings were everywhere as well as mystical symbols, incense burners, and candles. It was all mysterious and spiritual. At the centre of the room there was a beautifully ornamented altar with yet another picture of Isis and a variety of other items related to her worship.

Simon, an organizer, introduced himself to us as a High Priest and told us to take one of the seats set up in a circle around the room. We sat down and anxiously awaited the development of the night. It was dark and a bit creepy given that the “temple” turned out to be just a tiny room in a basement.

Simon himself seemed pretty intense expressing much gratitude for meeting us and having us over for the ritual. Soon enough, other people started to appear. First, there was a woman who turned out to be a High Priestess, Lady Media, assisting Simon the Priest during the ceremony. She shook our hands firmly, looking deep into our eyes. She possessed a similar intensity and energy as Simon did. Along with others, there was an older man, an English Druid, who sat next to the altar quietly waiting for the beginning. Altogether, there were about five people present, excluding Damian and me. They all seemed welcoming and friendly. Nevertheless, it all felt extremely mysterious.

After dimming the lights and lighting many candles, the ritual began. It consisted of a series of incantations to Isis, blessing and invoking the elements of fire, earth, water, and air, sword recognition of everyone by the Assistant Priestess, and several other procedures. Solemn music played, and the Isis meditation was given. During the main phase of the ceremony, the High Priest, Simon, channeled a message from Isis who was invoked into our circle with the aid of fire and smoke. It was a general message of encouragement and spiritual
affirmation. No great secrets, but, nonetheless, I was drawn in by the possibility of the real essence of Isis speaking through Simon to us.

At one phase of the ritual, when Lady Media went around the room blessing each of us, she unexpectedly kneeled before me. It felt a bit strange given that she didn't do it with anyone else. I quickly shrugged it off soon, though, as irrelevant to the general ceremony.

I must admit, everything went on with a sense of great dramatism,mysticism, and solemnity. I did feel like laughing several times, but the room was too small for them not to notice if I let even a single giggle out. I had to remain grave and adapt to the drama of what was happening. They seemed to be taking this seriously, and I didn't want to off end them by any expression of disrespect or disbelief. It wasn't difficult to do that anyway.

I'm open to people's ways of expressing their spirituality, and I believe there are indeed powers and forces greater than us that can be invoked, evoked, or communicated with.

I sat on my chair absorbing the sacredness of what was taking place. It was a beautiful ritual, even if, at times, it seemed a bit pompous. I comforted myself by realizing that I've never been to a ritual before, so obviously I was going to feel a bit awkward. So as to remain fully focused within the space of the ritual itself, I tried not to look at Damian.

As intriguing as the ceremony was, what happened after it mesmerized and boggled my mind. Both the High Priest Simon, as well as the High Priestess Media, turned out to be psychics with abilities to look into the present, past, and future. Without being asked, they volunteered to offer information from our past lives. To my surprise, accurate insights into my personality began to pour out of Lady Media. The Priestess also expressed how strong and highly spiritual the energy I had was. She said she could almost feel the electric impulse running through her arm when she shook my hand at the beginning of the ritual. She seemed taken away by the “ageless beauty,” as she called it, that I supposedly had. With some sort of admiration on her face, she said she could see that I had the same eye's expression in all my previous lifetimes which I have now.

She told me I was a cybel, or a female prophet, several centuries ago. She informed me that I enjoyed a wide reputation as an oracle to the point of feeling overwhelmed by the level of recognition I received everywhere.

She revealed that there's a high spirit in me, but it is now in hiding, as its attitude is being carried over from that past life. As the famous prophetess, I tried to escape the attention of crowds and lead an ordinary life unnoticed by anyone. This attitude of veiling my true spiritual gifts, Lady Media explained, remained my tendency until this day. She encouraged me to uncover my true talents and not fear what might follow.

Everything the High Priestess was revealing drew me in so much that I literally felt hot all over my body and inside. My heart was pounding much faster than normal. Th is was a mystical experience and adventure that I've dreamed of having for a long time. Sitting in a small windowless basement room, facing the altar with paintings of the Goddess Isis, along with mysteriously glowing candle lights, incense smoke in the air, and people dressed up in ancient Egyptian costumes wasn't something I witness each day. In addition to this, having two peculiar entities in front of me revealing the secrets of myself and my past lives was definitely something I would remember forever.

As mentioned above, I was growing more feverish with each word during the process of Lady Media's revelations about my past. I was extremely excited to absorb more of it. Nonetheless, and besides the exhilaration, I noticed something else beginning to take place within me. As the High Priestess continued to uncover my past lives, and right before she reached the life of a prophetess, I started to feel some form of anxiety or fear about her finding out the whole truth. It was as if I was sincerely afraid that she would stumble upon some secret about me. What it was, I didn't know. Simply put, a part of me was trying to hide and remain unidentified.

When the Priestess began to tell me the details of my life as a cybel, something within me was relieved. It felt as if some unknown part of my
consciousness smirked gently while whispering, “Alright, so she didn't recognize me. Good.” It was a strange feeling, almost one of superiority and triumph over Lady Media's inability to discover what that part within me was, like there was
something more that it was trying to hide. It felt as if some strange being within me gasped with relief from being told it was “merely” an oracle.

As it turned out, there was more to my past, and it was revealed toward the end of the meeting. The revelation simply spell-struck me. Just as Lady Media was finishing off with my prophetess' past life story, she suddenly changed her expression and sat transfixed at a deep thought that must have hit her. She looked at Simon sitting next to her in front of the altar and spoke in an excited manner, “You won't believe what I just saw. I think I know who else she was. Can you see it, too?”

He glanced at me deeply and said, “Yes, I think I'm getting the same picture as you are. It's incredible. Can it really be?” They kept looking at
me and at each other for a short while, exchanging quick comments that I couldn't understand. Finally, they seemed to come to a mutual conclusion. Their eyes began to shine radiantly, and their faces took on an awestruck and animated look.

While it was happening, the excitement within me began to grow more powerful with each passing second. Questions poured out of me: What had they discovered about me? What kind of a past life did I have to raise so much intensity?

The High Priest Simon seemed particularly thrilled as he continued to perceive more details of his vision. Strangely, this time around I didn't feel that bizarre fear about them finding out some great secret about me. There was no anxiety because something within me knew they already recognized what I was trying to hide. Oddly enough, I, my ordinary awareness, was the only one in the dark as to what was actually going on and what the great discovery was all about.

They seemed to know, and something within me knew that they knew, but I, my normal self, was still awaiting the revelation. I urged them to tell me what they apparently already established between them.

They began telling me about my life as one of the greatest Egyptian queens, Hatshepsut, who ruled as the fi rst woman pharaoh of the Egyptian kingdom. To add extra credibility to her reign, she attached a fake beard and wore male clothing. Priest Simon said he could clearly see the beard I was wearing to better promote my power status. Allegedly, I was a violent ruler leading numerous wars and going into battles. Nevertheless, I was respected as a queen and possessed many unique qualities.

Now, Hatshepsut was an Isis worshiper. Hence, she's revered in the temples of Isis to this day. I was told that my connection with Isis was deep, and I led frequent rituals and mystical rites that involved her presence. Not only was I a strong leader politically, but I was also developed esoterically.

Both Simon and Media seemed utterly stunned having made a finding that it was indeed me who was Hatshepsut. They gave the impression as if they had absolutely no doubt about that. High reverence and fascination began to ooze out of them toward me, like I was the risen Hatshepsut sitting live in front of them.

I felt incredibly invigorated, mesmerized, and shocked all at the same time. There was no words I could utter but disbelief and embarrassment. I didn't know how to react to their apparent and sudden thrill and veneration toward me. I felt excited, but also shy. I never experienced so much attention and almost adoration over my person. Lady Media told me that now she knew why she felt she had to kneel before me while performing the blessing part of the ritual. She said she could remotely discern some form of admiration toward me, but she didn't realize why. It was only now that she came to understand it.

It was all extremely unusual, and I kept tossing the events of the night over and over in my mind upon my return. I did some research on Hatshepsut on the Internet to find out more about who they said I was.

It was mostly what I knew from them already. They have ceremonies each Sunday evening, and I think we'll go next week, too. I'm eager to find out what else they have to reveal.

20 APRIL 2002
I met with the Isis people for another ceremony, and it was more bizarre than the previous one. Damian didn't come, as he felt I'd be more
comfortable without his presence. He didn't want to block my expression, he said, which was completely fine with me, and I went alone.

As soon as I arrived, Priest Simon welcomed me zealously. I was a different individual to them now than when I first came a week ago. I was a “queen” now, and they surely treated me as one, literally. They put me on a throne set up for this occasion in front of the altar facing others seated in the circle. I was completely taken away by what they prepared for me.

They placed a crown on my head and gave me a purple shawl to wear as the insignia of royalty. With fire in their eyes, they asked me to participate with them actively in the ritual. Furthermore, as the ceremony developed, I was supposed to channel a message from Isis, as I had been allegedly in the continual, but probably unconscious, contact with her as ex-Hatshepsut.

During one of the ritual's phases, each person came close, kneeling in front of me and sharing with me whatever they wished to express. Whether it was a blessing, a poem, words of love, encouragement, some piece of wisdom, they, one by one, kneeled in front of me as if I was some kind of superior being.

I felt slightly embarrassed by the surge of the sudden veneration they expressed, or acted out, but somewhere deep within, it did feel familiar to me, as if this was indeed my true identity or as though I already did this before. I know this probably sounds arrogant, but by no means is it my intention. I'm not trying to say that being recognized and admired gave me some sort of pleasure. If it did, there wouldn't actually be anything unusual about it. Most of us enjoy recognition and attention. However, this wasn't a sense of pride, joy, or some other emotion cherished usually by the ego which loves being the center of attention.

This was different. It was a feeling of recognizing the role, of feeling at home with the identity assigned to me, even if when only temporarily
acting it out. It occurred to me that this wasn't the only time when I felt affinity with something invoked within by my public appearance or a speech. I remember quite well many instances where I literally got the shivers because of a sudden flow of unidentifiable sense of familiarity when appearing in front of many people, whether at college during presentations or on other occasions.

It felt as though it was something I did quite a lot of before, or as if it was something I was meant to be doing now. I don't know. Each time I'm aware of  ther people focused on what I'm trying to convey, I have a feeling of energy, being alive, power, and fulfilling what I'm intended to fulfill.

Coming back to the ceremony, during the next phase of the ritual, I was asked to channel Isis, which completely paralyzed me. I felt unprepared for any of this, especially giving a message from Isis. However, looking at Priest Simon and Lady Media's face expressions, I realized I couldn't refuse. They both looked at me with intense anticipation as though I was a long awaited messiah they longed to hear words of wisdom from. I felt tremendous pressure. I knew this could be a test of my identity as Hatshepsut, or at least I felt so in my imagination.

They must have sensed my hesitation, as Priest Simon gently encouraged me by saying that I should only express what my heart is telling me to, even if it's only a smile. This helped me a bit, and I began to utter something,word by word , slowly, until the larger ideas started to fl ow. I remember I didn't say much, and I didn't even recall what I spoke about. I only know I was too stressed to fully let go and let the spirit speak through me. I was too conscious of myself in every way. Lady Media and Simon seemed quite satisfied, nevertheless, and led me to the statue of Isis where the phase of the ritual took place, namely, rinsing and washing it.

Upon my return home, I couldn't stop thinking about the events, and I keep wondering whether what they revealed to me could be in any way true. I had a dialogue about it with Damian, and he honestly thinks they have no reason whatsoever to lie.
However, could it be that they are simply delusional and perceive visions that don't have an objective reality? At the same time, they do seem
like sound, intelligent people, and I don't sense any form of deviational behavior from them notwithstanding their rather atypical selection of
spirituality.

To be honest, I don't know. A lot of what they said about Damian and me rings a bell, and many things do fall into place when viewing them from the perspective of my past lives uncovered by Lady Media. Then again, a part of me is simply not buying into the fact that I could be the Egyptian queen. There are so many people in the world claiming to have been this or that in their past lives. How many deceived ones reach out to usurp the identity of Queen Cleopatra as their own! I'm calling them deceived as not all of them could be the same person at the same time. Someone must be wrong here.

But then, if reincarnation is a fact, and I'm more and more inclined to believe so, why couldn't it be true that one of us was something important in the past? Someone had to. Someone living today could have been Columbus, Shakespeare, or Lady Diana. Why not? My point about the Hatshepsut issue is that I simply don't know. I'm not excluding the possibility, and I'll definitely remain open to it. At the same time, I'm not saying I absolutely believe it.

Finally, true or not as all this may be, I don't think it's tremendously relevant to anything either way. Even if one was this or that in the past, it doesn't bring in any special privilege to the currently running life. Each of us must have been something in the past, and it was probably all versions of possible lifestyles. Rich, poor, downtrodden or popular, a woman, a man, a warrior, and a slave — we had it all. It doesn't matter to me so much to know if I was Hatshepsut in the past, but rather, the question is whether I can allow my soul to evolve and run its course in the present life. I'm curious to know, however, that's for sure, but it won't keep me up at night.

An excerpt taken from the memoir: “Odyssey of An Airhead; Ultimate Truth, Here I Come!:

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