Tag Archives: God

Sacred Geometry

I wanted to share with you a presentation I did a few weeks age. These are the boards created to express some basic principles of Sacred Geometry & how they impact our world today.

I started wanting to express how those principles are used in Architecture to express man’s relationship to God. But I ended up finding out even more.

The word architecture comes from the Greek word – ARKHITEKTON

Arkhi – the first / the beginning — Tekton – the creator / master

So architecture refers to the first creator/ the great architect – it is not referring to the first man who created a structure but to the great creator himself – GOD!

And I feel that every ancient piece of architecture has honored/ respected/ venerated God since the beginning of time.

Architecture is expressed in plain Geometry and the Architect creates shapes & volumes that give form to the building design.

In the days of Greek & Roman Architecture, they used the three principles of Vitruvius

Firmitas, Utilitas, Venustas
(Durability, Utility but most exciting of all Beauty)

Sure we can use stone for durability, we can carve out spaces to create Utility; but what do we use to express Beauty? Beauty – as they say – is in the eye of the beholder after all…

Our ancestors looked at nature & the natural world & saw that in the chaos, there was order. So they found a way to express that order with The Golden Rule of geometry.

They also saw that the Golden Rule not only expressed nature but was part of mankind as well. They saw that the geometry was an exploration of the relationship of man to God. These are the principles of Sacred Geometry.

But Sacred Geometry was a hidden layer. Well not really hidden, but only discern-able by the initiated. Why only for the initiated?

This answer is given to us in the bible. Matthew 13:11,13 – When asked by his apostles why Jesus spoke to the masses in parables. he replied:

“Because it is given onto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not… Therefore I speak to them in parables. Because they seeing – see not AND hearing – hear not. neither do they understand.

The Sacred Geometry was there for everyone to see but existed as layer that expresses the mysteries of the heavens & needed to be interpreted.

The belief at the times, was that these mysteries were too great for the uninitiated man to understand them. They were too powerful – as they could help us transcend to the heavens -They felt they needed to protect us from this grandiose mysteries.

In panel 2/3 I explore how Man sees himself in relationship to God and how Sacred Geometry was not only an idea, but the central basis for the building designs. In the days of the Gothic Architecture – Chartres Cathedral – man was of service to God & to the Virgin Mary.

In Chartres, God is there and so is the idea of the Chakras and spiritual enlightenment. They are clearly the basis for the design. And in elevating ones soul/self we may be able to reach the heavens – we may be able to transcend. Is this the real understanding we were not to know?

But I say that Sacred Geometry was perceived at that point, but it was ever present way before then!

It was there in the beginning of recorded history – if not time itself.

We can see it not only in the Gothic Architecture, but in the architecture of the Egyptians (panel 4) & even further back then the Mayans.

It has been there with us, from the beginning of time.

We have always looked to the heavens for some higher power – The Gothics looked towards God; the Egyptians towards the Stars; the Mayans to the Heavens…

“Art in the middle ages was ‘art for God’s sake’, art in the Renaissance was ‘art for man’s sake’, art in modernism was ‘art for art’s sake,’ art in the 20th century is ‘no art, for God’s sake.” ~ G. K. Chesterton

In the start of this post I said that every ancient piece of architecture has honored/ respected/ venerated God since the beginning of time. But as the quote points out, that changed in the Renaissance when art became for “man’s sake.”

So then the inquiry that comes up is if we’re not looking towards GOD, then where are we looking towards as our guide? Are we really creating ‘no art’?

Since art & Architecture is an expression of who we are – then with America having rejected God in everything we do; Abortion being at 50 million in 1973; Our schools do not allow prayer or the mention of God; We are even planning to remove the phrase “In God We Trust” from our coinage…

We have never – as a society – been a culture to belief in many Gods; or in the stars & their alignments; or even nature as our mother Gaia.

Our Founding Fathers told us what they wanted for this nation : In God We Trust!

We have always been a monotheistic culture! But now we have turned our backs to God!

Then what do we believe in and where are we heading towards…?

Panel 4 gives us an indication of that! It shows the architecture of the Capital Dome in Washington DC. By the looks of the design, we are looking towards the stars again! we are reverting to a long-gone pagan culture devoid of God as our Founding Fathers wanted us to know Him.

But if Paganism has never been part of our culture – and now it is being called again – is it something new that society demands?

or

As I am finding out – it’s been a hidden path that we’ve – unknowingly – been on all along!!!

We are once again drawn into a Holy War – Good vs Evil


REFERENCES:

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Visitaion : #15 Confirmed

Today my wife got a call that Julito passed away. This confirms the premonition I had on the 15th.

We went to visit the family & when we got there I got the confirmation of my visitation dream. The family was at peace & they were complete with the way Julito passed away. They were not crying over the loss, but were praising God for not letting him suffer and live in a long vegetated state.

Luis even shared with us that 10 years ago, Julito got ill and was ready to die. Luis’ son was about to be born & Luis asked God to keep Julito around a little while longer so that he can be with his grandson. He thanked God for the additional time Julito had to spend with the family & the grandson.

They were now OK with him passing and the time had come for him to be with God. They were OK because in their eyes God had given them a sign at the hospital. A flock of pigeons started gathered outside his hospital room window the evening that he was taken to Hospice. Grays on one side, whites on another & a reddish one in the middle. Even the nurses commented on how odd that was. They’ve never seen the birds before today.

This was the case for a few days. But on the day Julito was to pass, the birds flew away an hour after his passing.

Another confirmation is that in the room when Julito passed were his wife -C- his son Luis & the son’s wife. Three people.

Also the color sets of pigeons – gray, reddish & white. Again three as in my visitation dream.

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Visitation : #15 Another Active Dream Night

Another active dream night! Let me rephrase that… They are all active, but this night was really impactful and is visitation 15. So to go right into the naked celebrities dream:

I’m standing there waiting for my seminar to start. I am nervously rubbing my hands when somebody comes up to me. “Linda needs to see you right away” he says, pointing down the hall towards the end of the building where the gymnasium is located. “Right now?” I question. “Yes, In the gym. It’s urgent!”

OK, so I head down the hallway, passed the double fire doors with the tiny wire-mesh glass that only gives you a glimpse of what’s on the other side. I push the gray doors which seem to weight heavy to the touch. I have to push even harder just to get them to open. Once on the other side, I walk into the tiny vestibule of the gymnasium. There is nobody here so I look around to get a clue. The room is small with a low acoustical ceiling and with only two sets of doors. The choice is clear. To the right, a single narrow door leading into the coaches office, but straight ahead is a double set of doors that I assume will lead me into the gym.

I push them open and walk into a large, white, voluminous room. Everywhere there is equipment lining up the wall. Straight ahead there is a basketball hoop. To the right at the end of the room seems to be the only clear line of path. Except that its just an edge that seems to drop off. I walk over to the edge, looking for a ladder or stairs down, but none that I can find.

No way down but a slatted wall, that seems to be like a stacked set of red ‘p-leather’ bleachers. I am at the top of these bleachers & scaling them seems like the only way down. Down below I hear people, so it can’t be that bad of a climb down.

I climb down & when I get there, I see a guy & two ladies. I know them! the figures don’t look like them, but I know it’s them. The guy is on the left side of this lower gym, somewhat in the distance, with his back towards me. I walk towards him and for every step I take he seems to get further away from me. I call his name to which he responds by turning his head. He looks at me in the eye & then looks away.

The older lady is on the far right corner, almost frozen with a bluish, gray parka. Definitely does not seem approachable. The younger girl is on the near right coming out of this darkened hallway. She is wearing a pale yellow knee length hooded parka. You know the kind – fur rim around the hood, wrists and hem. This one was dingy looking though. As if she has fallen in some rough, slushy puddle and splashed around in it for a while.

“Hi…” she looks up and makes eye contact for a nanosecond. Drops her sad, watery eyes and quickly dashes by me as if she did not know me. Everything seems strange – off you know…

I walk into the darkened hallway and to my surprise, there’s Linda & Gladys. They have their backs to me & are talking to a man, seated on the bench. He is tall looking, with a dark blue rain coat and a clean shaven head. He looks up at me and I see a thick mustache. He looks like an agent from an insurance company or collection agency. Anyway, Linda notices him looking up and turns around. “Pablo,…. Um, this gentleman, ah… is looking for you!” Linda says startled but with a sad puppy dog look in her eyes. “What is going on?” I question. Linda steps back and almost bangs into the louvered doors. “He’s asking about your Range Rover!”

“Mr Solis, can you tell me the vehicle’s mileage the last time you drove it?” he questions with a serious look on his face. “What?… I guess its around 103,500… Why?” I question back, puzzled at such an odd question. “Could it be 103,597??” He asks.

“What the hell is this about?” I yell back, feeling extremely frustrated now, and not knowing why, slightly concerned. “Please step into the next room, Mr Solis… please?”

Now I am really concerned! “What is going on?” I insisted. “Please step into the next room…”

I walk into this bright, white hallway that opens up to a even whiter & brighter room with tiled walls and floor. To the right there is a empty steel table on the side. The room looks like a morgue and now with that chill running down my back, feels like one too. As I stepped into the room, there is a cold steel table with a lumpy, blue hospital sheet. I am shocked! there is a body under that sheet! it is a long, heavy looking person. The only part of the body I can see is the forehead and the bluish-gray hair on a large head. By the look of the hairline, I can tell that it’s an older man.

I don’t know who that can be, so I don’t react in any kind of way to seeing a dead body under a sheet. It almost seems like I’m watching a TV horror show. I was very detached to what I was seeing until I step forward some more. There, in another table is a small body laying face down, not covered by a sheet and fully dressed in a black Tuxedo. I can see the patented leather shoes, the white socks and the velvet stripe down the leg of the pant. The lower torso is detached from the bottom of the jacket. Now that hit me hard! This is a little boy…

I keep scanning up the body in a slow-motion pace. The jacket is wet, and the hands are still red. I can see water droplets dripping out the tip of the hands. “Hey I recognize that hand!!” I screamed! “What the hell is going on….” The next thing I see is the head. It is severed just below the hair line. The head is full of beautiful black hair. Long, nicely combed back and gelled. The hair is parted in the middle just like…..

“No fucking way – it can’t be!!” The head is turned slightly sideways & I saw that profile…

“AAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Nooooooo way!! God no this can’t beeeeeeeee!!!” Not my son!!!

I scream and fall to the ground in the disbelief. “Noooo! This can’t be… why didn’t anybody warn me that this was the horror I am to witness…”

Things seems to fade away for what felt like hours. Finally when I became aware of where I am, I find that I am sitting up, with my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees. I am crying so much that the tears seem to have dried out. I look up and I see Linda and the bald-headed agent standing there. For a second I draw a blank, then the horror of the moment hits me. I jump to my feet and turn the severed head over. The eyes are both wide open and I see that he has blue eyes. “That’s not my boy!! My son has brown eyes, so that is most definitely not him!!!!”

I run screaming of joy that it’s not my boy. I run out of that building and run home to be with my son.


Now my interpretation of this dream:

First I woke myself up from the dream several times because I, obviously, did not like what I was seeing. I woke up crying my head off and feeling like my heart has been ripped out! I woke myself up to make sure this was not real. Real it did feel! The pain and anguish I felt still hits me hard.

But from past experience, I know I am dreaming and this is just a visitation. Lately the visitations have been gruesome … So of course it looks like this. Now if you are a first time reader, this may sound cold & heartless, but if you’ve been reading my other posts you will see that this is like visitation 15, 16 or so. So it is no news to me that I would have this kind of dream.

I now know that It is telling me of an upcoming event – that looks nothing like this, but I need to see the signs. So I must take it for what it is not, not what it looks like or feels like but what the emotions suggest.

I know that I need to analyze that dream in order to understand that message: The first thing that hits me is the repetition of the number three (3). 3 sets of doors (2/1); 3 areas – the gym, lower gym & then the morgue – (2/1). The three persons I knew in the lower gym (2 female/1 male)and then the three people in the darkened hallway (2 female/1 male). Waking into the morgue there are 3 steel tables. Again 2 occupied/1 not. Even the boy’s body was in three parts.

Also the colors I saw were 3 (red, yellow & blue) – Even the gray things I saw were in 3 shades. So what does this pattern tell me?

In Numerology, number 3: socially active, artistic, very positive and optimistic, playful, happy and fun-loving, inspirational, imaginative, motivating, enthusiastic and uplifting person.

In Dream Interpretation the number 3 may symbolize completeness and fulfillment – for example, the resolving of conflict between two opposing psychic forces.

In Christianity: 3 is the number of the Holy Father, Son & Holy Spirit. It is completeness of who God is.

Next symbolism: It was very odd seeing, what at first I thought was my son. And then ultimately realizing that it wasn’t him. This leads me to believe that it will be a family member, but not an immediate member, like my wife or son.

The gray hair is another big hint. It tells me its a male. The forehead and the gray hair, but not being able to see the face keeps it as a distant relative.

OK who do I know that is fun-loving, socially active, & uplifting distant relative. One that is currently ill?? Even making his way in life to be complete. The only person I know of is… Julito.

I pray : dear God, please keep his soul & allow him to leave this world complete. I pray that his family, left behind, is also complete and at peace with his parting. May his journey be one of peace & that he rejoice in your love.

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It is Well with My Soul…

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.”
— Ho­ra­tio G. Spaf­ford

I can say that it is truly well with my soul and there really is ‘nothing wrong’ in the overall scheme of things.

Last night my aunt Olga passed away. She had been living 15 years on dialisys for a kidney transplant that never took. This had been affecting her all these years and her body just could not take it anymore. She suffered imensely thru those years and finally, her body was hit with a brain hemmorage. She refused to allow the doctors to operate and release the pressure. She refused any and all treatments and in doing so she sealed her fate. The next day she lapsed into a coma, from which she never awoke.

I just realized that the dreams I’ve been having about the women submitting to their death relates to my aunt! She has been suffering too long.

The graphic nature of my dreams was to express the pain & agony she must have been living with all those years. A prisoner to her own body, she needed to be free. Choosing to die is actually choosing to be free. She is now free from all the suffering and she is free and with God in peace.

Peace be with you, Tia…

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I’m Human Too…


i found myself at the foot of the I-95 off ramp & I am debating giving a homeless man some money. I immediately thought he’s a wino, a bum – he’s going to waste it on whatever BS – I think. So I said God – no judgement. I will give just because.

So the test I gave God was : if the light turns red then I will give him money. If not – then oh well… So of course! the light turns red & I stop. I open the window & call this guy over to give him a buck.

He comes over with a big smile on his face & humbly says thank you. He immediately changed my mood. He also tells me “God bless you” and says that his sign got ruined.

“I need it to tell my story.” he adds.

So I asked him what is your story. “I am just a homeless man” he says “you could even call me a bum. I drink, yes I may be a wino, but I am also human. Your dollar will help me to stay alive another day. Thanks Lord.”

This was a sobering thought. He was repeating the words I was using to judge him & he reminded that God does listen & talks with us! Only we choose when we want to listen to Him.

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