Hi, this is Ahonu, and on behalf of Aingeal Rose, welcome. We’ve got something different for you today. It’s about Egypt, but first, you may remember Robert Burns in his poem To A Mouse written in 1785, he said,

“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley. An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, / For promis’d joy!”

Well, we had plans and we were all excited about them. We went to Ireland last year to run several workshops. Some were on the sacred sites of Ireland and others were on book writing and book publishing. But that was 2020, and everyone knows what happened in 2020. It was a case of the best laid plans of mice and men.

It all crumbled into nothingness. So we’re going to play you a short video now that we were making at the time. And it’s all full of the excitement and the joy of the prospect of being with people who love exploring the sacred sites of Ireland and the sacred sites of Egypt. And we were excited too. And immediately after that, You’ll hear a little story written by Aingeal Rose. And in that story, she recalls a past life memory of being in the Royal household in Egypt. And she wrote that story during one of our writing classes that also had to be abandoned, but we will hold them again because many people got such a kick out of our writing classes that we could not discontinue them permanently. We will be organizing them, this time virtually.

So we’re continuing on with our Royal road retreats adventure. We just got done doing a 10-day tour Ireland, and we did the mystical connection between Ireland and Egypt. Now we’re going on to Cairo and to the wonderful temples in Egypt and the history of Egypt as it pertains to all of us, because I do know that many of us do remember lifetimes, where we lived in Egypt.

So, if you’ve never been, this is your chance to come with us. I go through a very mystical experience, especially after just coming off Ireland. So. We hope you’ll join us because we’re only taking about 12 people. And many of those will in fact, be coming from the Ireland trip as well, so places will be limited.

Right. And also I come from Ireland, you’ve got me with the Irish accent, going to Egypt, where I lived for about six years also the Ireland tour. There’ll be stories. Sure, there’ll be stories. And we’ve got master tour guides too. It’s going to be an adventure of a lifetime. So we look forward to seeing you.

Aingeal Rose: I was 10 years old when our world was invaded. Gone were my days of playing in the tall reeds by the majestic Nile in the warm sunshine, as if overnight there were restrictions and curfews, but was once a carefree and happy society was now a civilization of fear and caution. We had been rendered silent and consequently, we invented codes and secret languages amongst ourselves. In essence, we went underground. I can still hear the echoes in our minds of the past. How about once was, and then how it became. Thank God, our memories of the times that we’re having never faded without them, we would not have a compass to go by to know how to live. And the skulls we made them from many types of stone, crystal, amethyst, granite, obsidian, lapis and agate.

They were replicas of our own skulls. And we each put our own knowledge inside them, preserving it in the likely event that at some point we’d be murdered, which indeed many of us were. The skulls are yet to be discovered. They are buried deep underground, and can only be found when the awareness of the overtones comes into the consciousness of the existing humanity.

During the times of the oppression, it was important for us to meet many times a week in the underground chambers. It was the only way we kept the flames of the light of the sun burning within our hearts. It was a great risk to venture out in secret times to find a meeting places and meeting times, which were random and telepathic. On the surface, the oppressors would carry out their power games and it was difficult to stay out of harm’s way. One had to behave as a normal farmer trader or slave within obedient mentality and a compliant nature.

If we must have a Pharaoh of the oppression, it would be Horam Hab, for he persecuted his own people, as well as the Hebrews. How the oppression game took hold, and has continued to roll on through the centuries is still a mystery to me. Perhaps the mind darkens over time when subjected to continued restraint in domination.

Perhaps complacency becomes the normal way of being until violence and aggression become the rebelling focus. Either effect has not changed or diminished the problem. Oppression is still rampant here in the 21st century. I would venture to say that the oppressors today are the same as those of centuries past. Those enslaved today are those same enslaved.

But is there a full moon rising? Is there an ancient memory awakening, a stirring inside that is collapsing time and beckoning the ratio of history. There is for me. I know I am reinstating the self that would not be buried or bred out of me. I am preparing myself to be renewed and reborn. I am the chooser and the decider. I am the revolutionist and I will stand.