How Sweet It is

Herein today, October 31, 2021, are my final five sweethearts in high school, college, medical school, on the Mark-Age staff, right up to now.

What a sweet although at times painful journey it has been up the ladder of love, from the regenerative to the crown chakras. And what wonderful sweethearts have lighted and loved the Way/way with me.

Thank you, sweeties. Thank You, Father-Mother God. How sweet it is!

Number 8

Her lovely yet simple name was Carol, whose company I kept, whose heart I shared from the later months of high school, through graduation, during that summer, and into the first year of college at the University of Rochester, in Rochester, NY, about 50 miles, but light years, north of my hometown of Dansville.

Carol was a year younger, hence a grade, below me. I had had a friendly, but loving friendship with her for the prior two years or so, before we became a couple. Before our beginning anew, she was the girlfriend of one of my guy friends, and thus out of bounds. But they broke up, and after due time and consideration, I began seeing and eventually dating her. From being friends, we became late-teen lovers.

She was wise beyond her years, had a wonderful, sometimes wacky and “wicked” sense of humor, in addition to being pretty and popular amongst her friends. And yes, she had a  beautiful but not extraordinary physical body, a delight to behold; and we “made out” but had enough wisdom and control not to sleep with one another. Thank You, Spirit.

Carol’s father was a county judge by day, a drunk by night, which no doubt adversely affected her and perhaps led partly to her seemingly adult wisdom, yet also to some degree to her own deep-seated fears and emotional upsets.

Her mother was a school teacher, and the best woman golfer in town. In summers, I had caddied for her mother’s friend and fellow lady golfer, so I had gotten to know and admire Carol’s mom; and she thought highly of me. Carol was a good athlete as well, a good golfer, although she was not all that enamored with the game, as I was — I played on my high school golf team and was its #1 golfer.

Hilarion Leads the Way

Carol and I were able to have more “adult” conversations, even as we had and explored teenage love for one another. For example, I talked with her about “platonic love,” which I had done before we became a romantic couple. Where in the world I outwardly came across, and why I was so taken by, the description of “platonic” or non-sexual, non-romantic love, I do not remember. Maybe I studied or heard about it in our world history course in 11th grade. But none of my male or female friends thought much of such platonic relationships. (Too many hormones.)

But, of course, it was partly soul recall of my past, spiritual lifetimes and the spiritual consciousness that I had brought into this lifetime. After all, Plato the Greek philosopher (see picture by Raphael to left) was an incarnation of Hilarion, Chohan or Director of the Fifth Ray of Unity, Integration and Healing, and the etheric director of Mark-Age Healing Haven. (He also was Paul the Apostle and Charles Fillmore, co-founder with his wife Myrtle of Unity Church of Practical Christianity.)

Decades later, in spring 2015, when I was in Veracruz, Mexico on the so-called Mexican Mission, Hilarion had contacted me and said that he was celebrating with me his fifty years of overseeing my spiritual healing growth and activities this lifetime. Reflecting back to 1965, I was in the 9th and overlapping 10th years of high school, when I started studying the sciences: biology, chemistry and physics, which laid the foundation for my going to college and then to medical school. Hilarion then had helped me in my studies, without my having any idea whatsoever that this was occurring.

And it seems in hindsight now that Hilarion was the one who also inspired me to think of, and work toward, so-called platonic or spiritual love. In Hilarion’s lifetime as Plato, he was a follower and disciple of Socrates, who was an incarnation of Sananda, who had been Moses and later would be Gautama the Buddha and Jesus the Christ.

(As Nada-Yolanda has received, in his lifetime as Socrates, Sananda was preparing for his incarnation as Jesus, in which he sacrificially would lay down his very life for the upliftment of all on Earth and in its astral planes — Socrates took hemlock that killed his body, but his divine teachings remained and were expounded and shared by Plato, whose philosophy radiated out and inspired the whole world for centuries to come; especially in the West.)

Ladder of Love

In Plato’s dialogue, the Symposium, Socrates spoke about the “Ladder of Love,” the steps one goes through from carnal, physical, sexual love, to soul-emotional love, to spiritual I Am love. This description is reminiscent of when Jesus spoke about his apostle Nathanael Bartholomew and referred to angels ascending and descending to him on a step-by-step ladder or “stairway” to heaven and back. Click here for a Wikipedia article on platonic love.)

Note in the above painting of Plato that his right hand points upward to heaven. He is firmly based here on Earth but he points all of us up to I Am consciousness, via seven major initiations or steps, hence the Ladder of Love. His goal was to link the physical, third dimension, with the adjoining soul-astral realm, and into the overarching etheric or fourth dimensional plane.

The primary approach to doing this was by the right application of I Am or Christ mind power, just as he would teach when he was Paul and Fillmore. Note here, also, the themes of the Fifth Ray which relates to the third eye chakra, the doorway between physicality and Christ, etheric I Am light-body reality. Even Plato’s hand in the painting is at the same level as his forehead or third eye screen.

Plato in his writings did not refer to platonic love per se. Rather, he talked about the steps that one takes to rise into spiritual consciousness and divine, pure love. Only later, by others, was the term “platonic love” used to describe non-sexual, romantic love, basically loving friendship; without necessarily referring to the overall steps to spiritual love.

University of Life

Carol and I were good friends as well as good, caring teenage lovers who only had beginning clues and insights into what it was to be a loving adult, and certainly no thoughts about spirituality — neither of us went to church or talked about God and Jesus. Our relationship spanned the time from the last year of high school through the first year of college, with college representing more or less the start of so-called adult life and love, another step on the ladder in the “university of life,” wherein we learn to grow from mortal to immortal love consciousness; to love God and love one another.

In my first year of college, I felt out of place, like a small-town “hick” in comparison to so many of my classmates who came from New York City and Long Island, NY, a majority of whom were Jewish. (Note that the Earth Temple in Atlantean days was located on central Long Island, but whose radiations extended to what is now New York City and north to modern-day Boston.)

We even had a few African-American classmates, whereas Dansville was lily white, other than for seasonal migrant workers, and had no Jews. I had been at the top of my class academically in high school, but now so many of my college classmates were smarter than I was and had already taken pre-college courses in high school. It was a whole new world for me and it took some getting use to before I found my footing.

Plus, when it came to the ladies, my shy side came to the forefront — I did not have a single date with a female college freshman. But I did invite Carol to join me at a couple of my fraternity parties on weekends during that year; and I saw her on holidays. My frat house was comprised mostly of upstate New York, white, Christian, athletic guys, who were very much like me.

Inevitably it seems, Carol and I slowly grew apart, separated by distance, experience and our own unique pathways. There was no dramatic moment of our split, nor any diminution of our love for one another. But in my second year of college, she had gone to college in Buffalo, NY, where she found a new boyfriend, and at the U of R I met my next sweetheart. Over the next couple years, Carol and I, in our summers back home in Dansville, would meet and reminisce and try to see if the spark was still there between us. But we now were just friends, platonic lovers.

I seldom saw her after this time. However, I have only sweet, loving memories of her that I have stored in the sacred space and place of my heart. God bless you, Carol. You lighted up my life, and I hope I did the same for you. May you continue to be love in action!

Number 9

Sadie Hawkins once again came to my rescue. In fall of 1965, in my sophomore year of college, I attended a beer-blast party at our Students Union. With a couple cold ones in me, my inhibitions and shyness temporarily dissolved and I found myself talking to a lovely lady sophomore, whose name I will call Amy. She also had a couple beers under her belt. And we had a grand talk and sharing. So, I walked her home to the woman’s dorm up on the hill, and said good night. Maybe even I was audacious enough to have kissed her goodbye, but I am not sure about that memory.

What I do recall is that about a week later, I got a phone call at my fraternity house where I lived. The sweet woman’s voice on the phone said she was Amy, and she asked me if I wanted to go with her to the upcoming Sadie Hawkins Day Dance, around November 13th. “Sure, that would be good,” I said; trying not to sound too startled and befuddled by this unexpected call and improbable invitation.  And we made brief plans that I would pick her up at her dorm at about 8 PM the night of the dance. As I would learn later, Amy was just as shy as I was, so it was her friend who had called me on her behalf. All of which we laughed about later.

Anyway, we had a great time at the dance, and we were not even tipsy or drunk. We just thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company — she even liked my sense of humor (can you believe that?). And we had a wonderful time slow and fast dancing to the great music of one of the well-known African-American singing groups who were there harmonizing and strutting their stuff. It was not the Temptations or Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, but it was like them, a singer and four guys with great vocals while kicking up their heels; with their many songs about young love. All and all it was a memorable new beginning in the ongoing dance of life.

And our dance continued for three years, until Amy and I graduated from college. During that time, we were pretty much inseparable. And I spent as much time in her bedroom as in mine — it was my first venture into a serious, romantic, committed, loving, sexual relationship. We were friends as well as lovers.

Amy’s parents were from Boston, her father being a professor in the Harvard Graduate School (note that Boston was in the forcefield of the Atlantean Earth Temple). Her mother likewise was highly educated. So, here was Amy, from a big city and a prestigious family, and me from a small town in upstate New York with humble parents, and we still felt bonded together as one heart. Ain’t love grand!

As far as past lives go, Amy was fascinated by the Salem Witch Trials (click on this to read Wikipedia article) in Salem Village, near Boston, in 1692 and 1693. Before I had met Amy, in my American Intellectual History course (I was a history major, fine arts minor, pre-med student), I had written a term paper about this trial. Later, Nada-Yolanda would share in a soul intunement that my first wife, my next sweetheart, had lived in Salem Village in those long ago years, and had died in childbirth when her jealous so-called girlfriends had accused her of being pregnant with the devil. I suspect that I was Amy’s wife during that trying time.

Born Again

In this lifetime, not only did Amy and I get along famously, but when I took her home on one Christmas vacation to meet my family, my mother especially liked her (see picture above and to right). Amy was very good to her, being almost as sweet as my Mom was. I never before had brought any of my girlfriends home in high school to meet my family. And of course, I loved that Amy and Mom got along so well. In later years, Mom would tell me that she always had hoped that I would marry Amy, so that she would have such a wonderful new “daughter.”

Alas, it was not to be. Especially in our senior year of college, we talked about our future and about possibly getting engaged and eventually married. However, new spiritual forces were at work. Unexpectedly, I had my spiritual awakening that year, starting in fall 1963. It began when Philip Kapleau, an American Zen master who had trained at a Zen center in Japan following WW11, visited our U or R campus with two of his young trainees or monks, who were about my age.

I was totally taken by Kapleau’s sharing and acted upon his invitation to attend his regular Friday night talk and meditation for newcomers at his Rochester Zen Center. Tessa, my best friend David, and I attended the talk, learned about the Buddha and his teachings and practices, heard that we could be like Buddha, that we had a Buddha nature, and then we went into the zendo or meditation room, and practiced sitting and walking meditation for one hour. I had the almost out-of-the-body awareness and recall that I had come home! And I had. (I had lived in Korea in my immediate past life and had studied and practiced Buddhism; and had incarnated in India when Gautama the Buddha was there.)

Karma and Reincarnation

Amy and David likewise enjoyed the visit, but not in the depth that I did. I started meditating regularly, and it helped me to heal my migraine headaches that had started the previous summer. And, then I heard another talk at college about yoga, and so I  learned about and practiced yoga. And finally I read the Edgar Cayce material, who was a famous psychic in recent years past.

From the Cayce psychic readings, I first came across the teachings of karma and reincarnation, as framed around Cayce’s Christian background. This was a veritable lightning bolt for me, the key that unlocked the door to my family’s past trauma with Rosalie’s tragic death and Mom’s hospitalization. Finally, life made sense! The law of cause and effect did rule the cosmos.

But one could only truly see this if one was aware that we have lived many times before and will live again, always moving up, hopefully, on the “ladder of love.” From being an agnostic or atheist, I became a believer in our Father-Mother God and His-Her cosmic laws. I knew that Mom and my family could be healed. I was born again!

And, I started getting interested in all kinds of healing, as taught by Edgar Cayce and many others: diet, nutrition, chiropractic, herbal therapy, meditation, visualization, foot reflexology, massage, etc. By the time that I applied to medical school, I knew that I wanted to be what would be called in later years a holistic or integrative physician, not just a traditional, conventional one. To do so, however, I needed a MD degree to give me credibility, plus to learn the basics of anatomy, physiology, pharmacology, surgery, etc. And, given my family background, it was no wonder that I wanted to be a psychiatrist.

But it was a battle within me. I knew from within that going to medical school was my calling, but frankly I would just as soon have become a herbalist, chiropractor or hands-on healer; or any of a number of other non-allopathic healing approaches. Not my will, dear Lord, but Thy will be done. So off I would go to medical school, after getting accepted by only Upstate Medical School in Syracuse, NY, about 90 miles east of Rochester. I was still an upstate boy/man, still in the Earth Temple focus.

Dance is Done

Amy, meanwhile, had no such deep interest in spiritual matters, which she found intellectually interesting but did not apply in her life — we did not meditate together, for example. She applied to graduate school in the Boston area to get her master’s degree in psychology. We explored the idea of keeping our romance alive, despite the divergent pathways we were about to take but it already had become clear to me that I was to go in a new direction. I had new loves: Spirit, Jesus and Mary, spiritual teachers of all the major religions.

Amy’s and my divinely appointed dance was over, the music of the spheres had stopped. It was time to begin anew, much to my and her displeasure and discomfort. We parted lovingly, without really discussing any of this in depth, and just left things more or less open.

As with Carol, I left Amy, or rather we left each other, with no rancor in my heart, but just sweet memories, which of course were bittersweet at this time — breaking up is hard to do! As it turns out, however, many years later, in 2002, we did reconnect, when she visited me at I Am Nation HQ here in northeastern TN. She was married, to a doctor no less, and had just gone through a difficult period in her professional life as a therapist; and she wanted to talk with me about it. Our soul threads were still there. Our love for and respect of one another lived on, but in an entirely new form.

So, one of the major lessons in all of the above is that at times it becomes necessary, when it is properly spiritually guided, that we stop dancing with our current loved one, and move on anew to and dance with another loved one, always moving slowly up the love ladder to a new and higher personal love exchange with a new sweet heart. Moreover, our devotion to our spiritual path may lead us away from those who are not so dedicated.

It is after all the End Days, in which we are recapping our karma, our past lives, when our days and nights are filled with change at every step of the way. Love never ends but is transformed and flowers anew, even as past loves fade. Born again, we are born again. And again and again.

My Spiritual Sweetheart

Once more, in my first year of medical school, my shyness and insecurity surfaced. I had just a couple dates that whole year, neither of which held any allure to me. In my second year, I dated a first-year medical student  and stayed with her for most of the year. But she was not interested, other than in a surface sort of way, in spiritual matters or holistic healing. Our relationship was doomed from the start, but we parted with little remorse or pain.

Then, in my third year, Spirit brought into my life my spiritual partner who would become my wife. Her name was Andrea (which I can share because it is in the official, public Mark-Age literature). We met at the yoga center in Syracuse, a converted rooming house where we both lived for one year, along with about 12 or so other yoga students who followed our yoga teacher, Margaret Coble.

Incredibly, I first had met Andrea when I was a first-year medical student, during which I spent some time helping patients who were in the emergency room of Upstate Medical Hospital. She had come there for treatment of some condition that I no longer remember and I had briefly talked with her. Also, she had attended my yoga class when I was a second year medical year student, which I taught on weekends at the local YMCA.


We felt an immediate rapport and attraction that soon blossomed into a romance. She already had started reading, and was impressed by, the Mark-Age literature; and turned me on to it. I, being of such an Eastern orientation and as a devoted practitioner of yoga, at first had some doubts about, and troubles in believing, what I was reading of Yolanda’s channelings and diary — there were so far out! But, it certainly fascinated me and I was drawn to it. Moreover, at yoga meetings at Margaret Coble’s house, Margaret had shared some of the Mark-Age teachings, although her primary focus was yoga and Hinduism. She had met with, and sponsored, Mark and Yolanda when they were on tour and visited Syracuse some years before.

My interest in Mark-Age peaked when Joel and Astrid, then on the Mark-Age staff, gave a workshop in about 1969-70 at Margaret’s house where I had meditated every Sunday for the last year or so. During this presentation, Astrid channeled Summalt-Peter, who is the the etheric commander for the Eastern Hemisphere in the hierarchal program; from his mother ship, spacecraft #7423, in etheric orbit around the Earth. Before and during this, I felt the first electromagnetic spacebeam that I consciously had experienced, with a clamp around my head and a fiery light along my entire spine — I was electrified, which helped to convince me that what Joel and Astrid were sharing in regard to the Mark-Age teachings was indeed true.

Moreover, in Andrea’s and my talks later with Joel and Astrid, Astrid had placed her hand on my arm and radiated higher light energies to me that flowed into and healed the hurt that I was feeling then in my heart, due in large part to my displeasure at being in medical school, where I felt like a fish our of water — none of my classmates or professors had the slightest interest in spiritual matters or holistic healing.

First Contact

As much as I was impressed by Joel and Astrid, I knew by then in my spiritual training that I had to go and meet with Mark and Yolanda, to see for myself if they were authentic. Already, I had met several alleged spiritual teachers and masters who turned out to be phonies, who talked a good game but did not walk it. So, I bought a new car, a green Volkswagen hatchback, and on my Christmas break from school, Andrea and I drove to Mark-Age MetaCenter in Miami, FL. Mark and Yolanda were not there, having delayed their return from California. But, a bunch of young drunks back-ended my new car when I was at a stop light. As a result, Andrea and I had to stay an extra week to get the car repaired, and during that time Mark and Yolanda returned.

And what an incredible meeting and getting to know each other we had! In one meditation, I came out early, looked at Mark and psychically saw the most amazing white sphere over his head, like unto his light-body head. This was one of my very few psychic experiences until then, and I never saw it over him again. Once was enough!

And Yolanda specifically noted I was in training to be a doctor, saw green light around me, which I also had seen. And their talks and demeanors radiated incredible power and love that I could palpably feel. Yes, they were authentic. They were who they said they were. Now I was home, and from that date forward I planned to join the Mark-Age staff and work in its health department, and to learn to use radionics which I first learned about from Mark and Yolanda.

Every following Christmas and Easter vacation/break from med-school, Andrea and I went to MetaCenter. In 1972, Yolanda received from her Nada Self that Andrea and I were to be the third channeling team in Mark-Age and that our work was to focus on healing humanity. We had trained throughout this solar and beyond to develop our healing talents, as I shared in a previous blog. I was to focus more so on the mental and physical aspects and Andrea was to deal primarily with the soul, emotional, psychic departments.

I was in heaven! This was way beyond my imagination at the time, so extraordinary as to be almost unbelievable, and yet it felt so right. Moreover, I thought that Andrea and I certainly would be together for the rest of our lives. But already, in this first channeling were the potential seeds for our eventual parting of ways.

We had not trained together in past sojourns throughout the 12 planets of our solar system, and thus had different viewpoints and talents that had to be meshed. Moreover, our mental-physical, soul-astral healing approaches would have to be integrated together to make one complementary team. Andrea and I, in personality and soul training, were diametric opposites. Therein was the beauty of our relationship but also the rub, that which often rubbed each of us the wrong way in our ongoing partnership and disputes.


When I graduated from medical school in 1972, in late spring of that year, Andrea and I were married at our local Unity Church. At the wedding reception, Andrea got sick, with nausea and vomiting, and no one else who ate at that time did. Little did I see that this was a harbinger of things to come. I just thought that whatever the difficulty we may have together, we could work it out.

Moreover, in the next year when we lived in a rented house, I was in my psychiatry residency, which I detested. Every 4th night I was on call, and often got no sleep whatsoever. Plus, my patients were mentally and emotionally imbalanced, often with astral attachments, which did not exactly make it easy for me to stay grounded and healthy. Partly, as a result, I was less than an ideal husband, as I invariably brought my woes back to our home.

Moreover, I was a doctor in training and got most of the attention when others came to see the two of us. And like most men, I thought that my conscious, analytical powers would solve and clarify all of Andrea’s problems. Instead, I really had little idea of what Andrea was going through, what and how and why she felt the way that she did. We were so different, although our bond of love glued us together.


So, when it came time to join the Mark-Age staff in October 1974, Andrea chose to stay home. And after we separated, we got divorced a year or two later. What an awful time and heartache all of this was! Here I was “home” in my rightful place in Healing Haven on the Mark-Age staff, and I had lost my beloved wife at the same time. Ecstasy and agony! She got married again a few years later, had a daughter, and she still is married now, still living in Syracuse.

Needless to say, it took me years to get over all of this, to forgive and be forgiven, to let go and let God take care of the things and feelings that I could not rightfully manage, to see and to continue to link with the Christ in her. But I did do so. Time, as they say, heals all things; especially if we do the inner work to bring forth that healing and re-harmonization. I have made it a point, especially recently, to focus on all the good times Andrea and I had together, knowing full well that sometime in some future life, we will be together again. For our spiritual partnership remains, only to be reborn in some new time and way. Thank You, Father-Mother God.

This whole episode has a current positive postscript. Just this last spring, after many years of not hearing from Andrea, she wrote Phillel and me at I Am Nation headquarters here in TN, and said that she had had a recent past-life recall of her incarnation with Yolanda. She ordered Nada-Yolanda’s Autobiography of a Prophet, subscribed to our I Am Nation News that is issued bimonthly, and eventually subscribed to my blog. We started emailing one another, whereupon Andrea said that she had never stopped feeling connected inwardly to me; and of course, I shared the same with her. Now we have begun to regularly talk with one another on the phone. All of which is still nearly unbelievable after all these years of being apart, at least outwardly, for about 45 years. Spirit works in amazing ways.

Marvelous, Mysterious MariLyn

Fast forward to 2001, when I gave a workshop about the 12 Powers at a Unity Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota, wherein I met my second-to-be wife. Here name is MariLyn. (Of course, you know her from reading all of our past I Am News issues devoted to MariLyn’s and my multiple missions around the planet from 2010-1015.)

In a healing session with MariLyn, the next day after the workshop, I sat and listened with my heart to her story, of her trials, torments and tests on the way from being a grade school teacher for 30 years, to becoming a massage therapist. To my utter and complete surprise, while listening I felt deeply overshadowed and heard a clear inner voice say, “You have met the woman with one of the sweetest hearts of any woman you have known this lifetime.”

Well, to make a long story short, she became my sweetie, my sweetheart, my dearly beloved. She moved to TN in the fall of 2004 to be near me, set up her massage-therapy practice, and helped when she could with the caregiving of Yolanda who was in the last year of her life. In spring 2005, she moved into Hilarion House here on our property, where she lived on the top floor and I lived and had my office on the bottom floor.

After Yolanda died (made her transition) on November 8, 2005 and ascended into the etheric planes, it took me a couple years to recover from my fatigue from having been her caregiver for 4 years. Then, on August 8, 2002, MariLyn and I were married in a simple but moving ceremony. But that afternoon, rather than go that day or shortly on a honeymoon, I had to go take care of my father, who was in a nearby assisted living facility, because he had fallen on his head and had to be taken to the hospital, where he was hospitalized. While there, the next night he somehow had gotten out of his bed restraints, and had fallen again and whacked his head, this time causing discernible brain damage as see on a CT scan. He was unconscious from that time, entered the local St. Mary’s Hospice, and died 4 days later on August 12, 2012, when Phillel, MariLyn and I had attended him, but were not present at his last breath. God speed, Dad, God speed.

Heart Healing

Meanwhile, even before our marriage, MariLyn had the initial signs of a possible heart arrhythmia, which was not properly diagnosed until a couple months later — she had atrial fibrillation. We finally found a good cardiologist at Vanderbilt University Hospital in Nashville, TN, who was an electrophysiologist that performed ablations to correct this condition in which MariLyn’s heart raced rapidly and beat irregularly. But it took two ablations to correct it, in early and late 2009. And I was there helping her, working with her, supporting her every step of the way. What are husbands and spiritual partners for, after all is said and done, in good and bad times.

In late 2010, MariLyn and went on our honeymoon, finally, to Costa Rica, which however turned into a Hierarchal mission to link North, Central and South America together. In the following four and one-half years, she and I would undertake 11 more such missions, visiting 20 countries, and encircling the globe 3 times. What an incredible, uplifting, joyous, yet at times stressful time that was.

As it evolved, we realized that part of our missions was to stimulate, renew and re-open the 13 spiritual temples or power vertices around the planet, one for the sun, and one for each of the twelve planets, nine of which are physical and three of which are of a higher dimension and thereby invisible to our telescopes and space probes. (In my upcoming blogs for 2022, we will revisit and rework with each of those thirteen temples, four weeks at a time for each one.)

Global Dance

What an extraordinary, divine dance MariLyn and I did in those missions. It was a fulfillment of everything I had trained to do since my spiritual awakening way back in 1967. And yet, predictably, following those five years of intense travels, spiritual projections, planetary healings and interdimensional communions, I crashed in 2016. And as part of this, our marriage crashed. Oh my God — talk about hurt! And partly as a result in 2017 when MariLyn left, I developed atrial fibrillation.

But this is a story for another blog, to be published shortly, when I can get to it as part of this extensive review of my past climb up the love ladder to I Am love, friendship and forgiveness. So stay tuned. It’s a heart-rending, at times crazed drama, but one that has a loving ending, despite outer circumstances. Love heals! It really does!

Number Twelve

My last and final of twelve sweethearts is Nada-Yolanda, who was and still is my spiritual mother, teacher and wayshower. I’ve already written lots about her, how we built a bridge between her heart and mine. But let me simply recap a few points here.

Everything I have done in the last fifty or more years is predicated and built upon Nada-Yolanda’s channelings and demonstrations: the 12 I Am powers approach of Birth of the Light; her channeling about and enactment of her Seven Steps to Christhood; her communions and channelings from Hilarion, Etheric Director of Healing Haven. It has been an incredible joy and privilege and honor to be of service to, and be a partner with, her. I never can put into words how I truly feel about this, how even more so as I age, I look back and marvel at her fabulous exampling of cosmic truth and cosmic communication. It is almost beyond belief that anyone such as her ever walked this planet.

In essence, her work and life are head and shoulders above any other spiritual teaching or demonstration of this time, from Evolution of Man to Angels and Man to Visitors from Other Planets. The depth, reach and influence of these works has uplifted the whole planet and shown us the way to birth our light bodies and ascend into I Am heavenly consciousness, even as we remain here on Earth.

Her soul healing work with her soulmate, Edward, has set the pattern for ongoing male-female soul healing for one and all. Yes, it took her 29 long years, from 1976-2005, to fully accomplish this, with numerous blind spots and seeming mistakes along the way. But through it all, she persisted, pushed through her darkness, kept applying cosmic laws and principles and truths, and finally reached the pinnacle of her successful healing with Edward.

All of us follow in her footsteps in healing our 12 sweetheart relationships, and more, in our own journey through thick and thin, until the death of our soul darkness and despair, till we know and demonstrate that love indeed does conquer all. And woe unto so many who have betrayed and fallen away from her. Whatever we choose, we will reap what we have sown.

I could write and say so much more, but this much will suffice for now. All I want to say now is: Nada-Yolanda, I love you from the very bottom of my heart. And, thank you! 

Mother Mary Comes to Me

And I have yet one more mother who I wish to acknowledge and bless. She is my master teacher, Sol-O-Man/Zolanda/Mary the mother of Jesus.

She is and always will be my “numero uno” sweetheart, the one with the sweetest of all hearts of any Lady on and about the Earth. (See photo to left of Mary’s light-body visitations in Zeithoun, Cairo, Egypt 1968-71.

She has “mothered” me every step of the way, and as I write this, I feel her loving presence and blessing, and copious tears are flowing down my cheeks — I am a puddle.

I have been blessed beyond measure by her I Am love, by her sweet and tough love, by her guidance and protection, by her being everything that a mother could be. What more could I possibly say?


Sol-O-Man, I love you!

My dance with you has been divine!

We trip the light fantastic!

So be it. 

(See painting to left of Mary as the Virgin of the Golden Heart from her multiple appearances to six children in Beauraing, Belgium in 1932-1933.)




Mother Mary, you are out of this world!!!

(See the composite  image to left by Hartmut Jager and Phillel.)

1 thought on “How Sweet It is”

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