The Chrysopoeia Revelation: "Become the Difference"

By Stan Ellis

As escalating aggression and chaotic global changes converge, threatening to crush our dreams and collapse the foundation of reality is a perceptual shift or evolution of consciousness emerging to unveil knowledge of the absolute truth of humanitys destiny.
Stemming from authentic science, The Chrysopoeia Revelation unfolds an answer that includes how humanity will evolve higher consciousness and mortal being.
At the site of an anomalous Mayan Pyramid in Panama, Ben, a professor researching the field of consciousness, joins an expedition in quest for an ancient relic that reveals how to accelerate the evolution of higher consciousness. The dangers Ben faces, dimensional experiences, a romantic past-life back-story, and the choices he makes raises his super-conscious abilities.
Pursued by guerilla mercenaries working for the Illuminatis New World Order, the expeditionwhich includes a Mayan Shaman and yet-to-be-realized soul matesdiscovers the secret to evolving humanity in accord with the Mayan 2012 prophesy of a new age of peace, prosperity, and spirituality.
Praise for The Chrysopoeia Revelation:
There is some great stuff herevision quests, reincarnation, slow time. As a writer, you have come up with an amazing concept. The vision scenes hold the key to additional tension and action. As written, these are immensely powerful mental and visual sequences.
Script Pipeline, Hollywood, Ca.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Oct 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452538037

Stan Ellis

Stan Ellis highlights his life as a “miraculous adventure.” Growing up in a military family, their travels served as highly imaginary boyhood expeditions. After college and two years in the US Army, from which he was honorably discharged, Stan married his soul mate, Renee Gorman, in 1981 and adopted her three children. Renee’s passing in 2006 initiated Stan’s quest for and realization of his “true being.”   Stan is now retired from a unique career involving his professional skills in behavioral analysis and counseling. In the thirty-year span of his career in human services, he has served as a behavior therapist, rehabilitation coordinator, children’s protective services investigator, foster care counselor, adoptions counselor, and residential training center’s facility administrator. He now resides near the Central Florida gulf coast where he practices spiritual meditation and writes. Canoeing and hiking are his connection to a lifelong relationship with Mother Nature.

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Copyright © 2011 Stan Ellis

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ISBN: 978-1-4525-3803-7 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-3956-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-3957-7 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011918141

Printed in the United States of America

Balboa Press rev. date: 10/10/2011

Contents

IN PRAISE OF

THE CHRYSOPOEIA REVELATION

AUTHOR’S NOTE

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

EPILOGUE

IN PRAISE OF

THE CHRYSOPOEIA REVELATION

As the writer, you have come up with an amazing concept.

The vision scenes hold the key to additional tension and action. As written, these are immensely powerful mental and visual sequences.

There is some great stuff here—vision quests, reincarnation, slow time.

Script Pipeline, LLC, Hollywood, CA.

In memory of my wife,

Renee G. Ellis

Beloved spirit of devoted compassion

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.

—William Shakespeare

Hi, how are you? Fine, how are you? This simple inquiry is often used as a less than truthful rhetorical greeting prompting a less than truthful or standard response. We’re simply presenting a friendly gambit and not honestly seeking a deeper answer to the question. Even when having a bad day, the quick reply to the question is usually superficial. That, of course, is socially acceptable, but the same principle applies more purposefully when making excuses or omitting some relevant part of a truth while communicating. A lack of complete honesty underscores the communication.

My scientific mind deducted that occasional untruths or the omission of truth, meant no one could ever be completely true to himself/herself, thus negating thou canst not then be false to any man. Yet the quote somehow still rang true, but I didn’t fully understand why. Relying on reductionist thinking to analyze the phrase, I was drawn to the focal point of the quote, thine own self be true.

Not long after retiring from my career in behavioral counseling, my wife of twenty-five years was diagnosed with inoperable, metastatic lung cancer. I was of course stunned and felt helpless that I could not save her through my strong egoic determinism. I had no attachment to a religious concept of God, but believed the intelligent design of the universe was maintained by undiscovered forces holding it all together.

We were living in the panoramic Shenandoah Valley in Virginia when Renee was diagnosed. Late one night, shortly after the crushing news, while walking my golden lab on a snow-covered trail, I had the first of many revelations that followed.

All my life, in times of trouble, I’d announce to the stars or moon, It’s out of my hands, so I’m letting go.

The silent hope in my heart was to realize what the next right thing to do was.

Knowing I could not let go this time, my eyes pooled as I pleaded my question to the starless sky darkened by snow clouds, If you’re real, how can billions of continual prayers like mine reach you and get answered?

There being no answer, I resumed walking my dog. Devoid of thought except for an awareness of the hopeless pain I was suffering, I suddenly stopped as a lucid knowing I’d never experienced overcame me.

My own silent voice spoke with kindness as it exclaimed, you’ve always been connected to the answers. How do you think you arrived at where you are today?

My eyes filled once again, but this time with grateful tears. I realized what others call their soul, had just spoken to me. I knew in that moment, I was connected to an intelligent conscious force that continues to create the universe. I felt a sense of awe, knowing that the answers I was seeking are always available within this connection.

As I smiled and wiped my eyes the silent voice said, just love her, it’ll resolve everything.

I now understood the compassionate intention that has been the lifelong core of my being. It was the next right thing to do.

I knew my love would not save Renee so I naturally resumed feeling forlorn, except for a glimmer of knowing that my deep love for her would help us get through this together, as always. As I walked back to the house, I remembered Shakespeare’s quote and realized I am a part of this eternal consciousness, which never dies. Mine own self is true being.

Renee thrived for two more years and returned to our spiritual home in 2005, but that first initial glimmer awakened me. That awakening has ascended into a higher consciousness lived in celebration of eternal love and my love for all humanity. In gratitude for this state of grace, I’ve written an adventure allegory, The Chrysopoeia Revelation, as a reflection of true being. I present this story as a mirror to envision that you are so much more than you realize, greater than you can ever know, and all that you aspire to be is manifest within you now.

In the chapters that follow, some of the epiphanies and synchronicities I’ve experienced since Renee’s passing have been luminously woven into the fabric of a character driven plot. As we embark on an action-packed adventure in a quest for an ancient evolutionary relic, it is my hope that you experience a thought-provoking exploratory journey into the discovery, awakening, and or expansion of consciousness underlying the emergence of true being.

In the days, weeks, months, and years following Renee’s passing, I’ve flowed with my newfound intuition. I’ve found myself standing awestruck in bookstores as I opened personal growth and new age non-fiction books to paragraphs and chapters that gave profound answers to my questions about who I am, why I’m here, where I came from, where I’m going, and have I been here before? Those answers led to even more mind expanding questions, answered with paradigm shifting scientific proofs that a holographic matrix of consciousness exists and we are active participants. At last, I knew there was an ultimate super-consciousness perpetuating the intelligent and evolutional design of the universe, and I was a co-creator.

As I read those enlightening books, I felt compelled to weave the new way of thinking called the shift, into an allegory whose message was supported by scientific evidence. The ascension into higher consciousness, visions, and dimensional events in the story are underpinned by the following easy to conceptualize scientific facts:

1. Form also known as matter, is created from formless energy, not matter.

2. Existing in both states at the same time, light is form, known as photons, and formless waves of energy.

3. Human DNA emits light waves as bio-photons to communicate internally and externally with all matter.

4. Human emotions and focused consciousness, intentionally influence and or, direct changes in DNA and matter through the informational exchange of light energy.

It was one of those ah-ha revelations for me when I realized we actually are beings of light, and the higher we ascend in consciousness the more coherent we become with our true being.

I acknowledge with my highest praise, the many authors whose professional knowledge, teachings, and spiritual platform directly inspired me to write The Chrysopoeia Revelation. These authors are among a vast number who are explorers of evolving consciousness. Similar to Christopher Columbus, who watched the masts of tall ships slowly sink into the horizon and realized the earth was round; these authors have voyaged into the mysterious dimensions of consciousness. Relying on their professional expertise and visionary dead reckoning skills, they have returned with revelationary knowledge and maps to the new world of evolving consciousness. The banners flying from their masts herald, new perceptions, believing is seeing, a shift in consciousness, dharma begets karma, a new Tao, focused intention, iconoclastic paradigms, new age spirituality, multi-dimensional communication, humanity’s oneness, etc.

I hold the highest regard for all authors exploring the new world of consciousness; I applaud you with my praise for the difference your work is accomplishing for humanity, you have become that difference. I offer The Chrysopoeia Revelation as a tribute to the following authors whose knowledge and wisdom has directly influenced and inspired my adventure/allegory into true being.

Dr. Michael Bernard Beckwith

Gregg Braden *

Deepak Chopra, MD *

Wayne Dyer, PhD *

Carmen Harra, PhD*

Lynne McTaggart

Caroline Myss, PhD*

Michael Newton, PhD

Brian L. Weiss, MD *

Doreen Virtue, PhD *

The names I’ve asterisked are authors published by Hay House, Inc. I acknowledge Hay House with high esteem for being the leading publishing icon of unique self-improvement books and new age literature. I commend Hay House for their commitment to advancing personal growth literature by creating Balboa Press. Balboa’s all-inclusive self-publishing packages are the industry’s best in providing authors all the necessary resources for success.

I offer my heart-felt appreciation for the unwavering support of my unruly family and relatives. Their headstrong fearlessness and deep compassion has challenged and inspired my writing. I extend profound gratitude to my son Adam Ellis and my daughter-in-law Kelly Ellis. Adam’s editorial partnership and pragmatic approach to testing the value and consequences of storyline concepts kept me grounded in the story’s messages. Kelly‘s visionary support, as my communications consultant, inspired me to publish the story’s messages.

To my editor, Michael Garrett, I extend my deep appreciation for his thorough copyedit review and developmental recommendations. Finally, to the graphic artist Jack Morales, thank you for originating the front book cover design. Jack’s artistry has captured the pyramid’s ambience as it watched and waited for its message to be discovered.

As in a novel, the rising action we all face from life’s trials, trauma, and tragedy thrust us into climatic consequences. The subsequent actions we engage toward resolution builds character. In tribute to who you truly are and why you are here, this story was written to celebrate the nature of true being that underpins the arc of character. We are all gifted with being visionaries of the way.

PROLOGUE

Circa 100 B.C. at a remote oasis somewhere in the Middle East, three practitioners of the alchemy of Hermes Triesmegistus, a female Greek Grand Master, male Egyptian Grand Master, and male Oriental Grand Master, were seated in a circle on plush cushions under the colorfully striped canopy of a round tent with the sides rolled up. A gentle breeze rustled the overhead palms as the grand masters discussed a ruby-red marble tablet with words chiseled on it. The ruby tablet was a solid color without marbleized striations and seated on a camel skin pouch in the center of the circle.

The Greek Master offered, Then we agree the Christos’ paragon draws near to initiate a transmutation in the matrix of consciousness, as prophesied by Hermes Triesmegistus.

The Egyptian Master responded, asking, "Yes, now do we agree it’s time to seclude the Chrysopoeia until humankind has evolved a preparedness to practice its mental alchemy?"

The other two grand masters nodded simultaneously.

The Egyptian Master continued, Then we must decide where to safely secure the tablet.

The Oriental Master responded, The empires are embroiled in relentless turmoil that I foresee lasting at least two millennia. I propose we secure the tablet with a primitive people indigenous to the far Northeastern reaches of Asia.

The Greek Master replied, I’ve also envisioned unconquered elemental natives protecting the tablet as their sacred icon.

The Egyptian Master responded, "I agree and we should etch the Ergon below the word Chrysopoeia on the tablet’s marble container so only those prepared to know will recognize the stone for what’s contained therein."

The other grand masters nodded again. The Oriental Master retrieved a red marble container from the camel skin pouch, removed its marble lid, and inserted the tablet into the container.

The Egyptian Master stated, I’ll prepare a compound to seal the lid by transmuting it as one stone.

The Oriental Master countered, We must encourage all the adepts and masters to continue practicing their mental alchemy pursuant to transmuting the polarities of thought, the dimensions of consciousness, and vibrations of being.

The Greek Master responded, "Thus only those prepared to receive the revelation of Chrysopoeia will understand what henceforth must remain silent."

The Egyptian Master concluded, The words of knowledge are now sealed from the mind’s eye, except wisdom’s vision.

The three grand masters slowly lowered their heads in meditation as their separate electric blue auras visibly emerged and combined into one violet aura.

It’s the current era as Professor Peter Benoit, seated in a leather lounge chair in his campus office, reads. In his thirties, his physique revealed he maintains an exercise regimen. He briefly startled when a student assistant knocked on the door.

He gruffly announced, The door is open.

A female student entered, quietly crossed the room, and nervously handed him a manila envelope with the word urgent stamped on it. The student exited as quickly as she entered, appearing as though she’d disturbed the ivory-towered god of the Psychology Department. He smirked, relishing the intimidating professorial reputation he’d achieved. The outside of the envelope was rubber stamped with the university president’s name and phone number. Professor Benoit closed his book that displayed a picture of Native Americans on the cover.

He stood and walked to his desk, then placed the book on top of a historical textbook on Alchemy. He fumbled through some typewritten pages on his cluttered desk and retrieved a letter opener. After ripping open the envelope, he pulled out a handwritten note and faxed pictures of a Mayan step pyramid whose capstone displayed a right eye chiseled on it.

Professor Benoit recognized the eye as the Ergon and remarked aloud, Interesting.

He placed the picture on top of the other books on his desk and silently read the university president’s abrupt note. Mayan pyramid recently found in Panama, of all places, capstone mysteriously produced a humming sound that put people in a trance-like state. Would you like some time to investigate this as part of your research grant?

Professor Benoit walked over to his picture window overlooking the campus, and then back to his desk. He looked at his stack of research notes on the matrix of super-conscious energy. His research into the nature of consciousness employed exploratory paradigms beyond the usual models of experimental research design. He picked up the phone and dialed the President’s office.

The phone rang twice before Professor Benoit remarked, Yes, hello to you. Please tell him it’s Dr. Benoit.

A small group of tourists, including a Mayan shaman from Guatemala named Amoldo, stand in the middle of a Mayan ball court as Reena and Amoldo listened to the tour guide describe the game. Dr. Reena Meira, a clinical psychologist, had accompanied Amoldo to Chichen Itza in the Yucatan Peninsula. Amoldo and Dr. Meira were once graduate school classmates and have maintained their friendship over the years.

Dr. Meira, a woman in her early thirties, had a trim feminine figure, shoulder-length black hair, and a creamy light olive complexion. Her beauty and poise exuded an air of grace.

Amoldo, a fit man in his early fifties, had characteristic Mayan features, and long gray hair held in place by a red bandana. Amoldo is reputed in Central America for his expertise on the Mayan Long Count Calendar’s end of days prophesy and Mayan philosophy. Amoldo had joined Dr. Meira for her vacation in Mexico.

The group of eight tourists listened as a Mayan tour guide concluded his description of how the Mayan ball game was played, And the game was also played informally between children and young men … without, of course, beheading the loser, but the symbolism of the game still related to the Mayan view of the cosmic order of life.

The guide divided the group in half as prearranged so they could go to opposite ends of the ball court to experience the sound amplification phenomena unique to the ball court.

Dr. Meira interrupted, Before we separate, would you mind elaborating more on the game’s significance to the cosmic order?

The guide smiled proudly, and the group listened intently as he explained that the ball represented the sun and the sacrifice of the ballplayer represented the death of the sun, which would be reborn. It’s the struggle between day and night, life and death, and the regeneration of life. The scoring rings represented sunrise and sunset, and the game of chance involved the manipulative skills reflected in life. Finally, the teams represented a society’s efforts in upholding and recreating the game of life within the cosmic order of the universe.

The tourists lightly applauded as the guide hesitantly bowed.

Dr. Meira whispered to Amoldo, Have you been noticing the sense of reverent awe in the faces the tourists, Amoldo?

Amoldo smiled and responded, Yes, the energy is strong.

Dr. Meira replied, If it’s anything like I feel, it’s a return to the spiritual native within.

Her cell phone suddenly rang, startling her.

She turned and stepped away from the group as she remarked to Amoldo, Excuse me for a moment. It’s my secretary.

Amoldo watched, amused, as she talked into her little black box while gesturing with her free hand. After a couple of minutes, she walked back to Amoldo, told him her secretary wanted to relay a message, and handed him the phone.

Amoldo patiently listened for a couple of minutes before he responded. He briefly talked into the phone as he smiled at Reena while nodding to invite her approval. Yes, tell them I’ll come and Dr. Meira will come as my assistant.

Dr. Meira applauded like a little girl who just received a surprise present and said, Oh, thank you, Amoldo. Imagine that; a Mayan pyramid in Panama.

Amoldo replied, You’re welcome, Reena, I thought you’d be interested in the capstone’s sound anomaly mysteriously causing a trance-like state.

Amoldo paused, then offered, I believe this is the pyramid I have a past life connection to.

Dr. Meira inquired, Past life, that’s amazing Amoldo. Please tell me more.

Amoldo pointed toward the group indicating they should join them as he replied, I’ll tell you more over dinner.

CHAPTER 1

Situated in a clearing deep within the Darien Rainforest of Panama, an ancient Mayan step pyramid peeked above the jungle canopy. A cebia tree, the Maya tree of life, nearly two hundred feet tall, stood behind the pyramid. According to Maya mythology, the vines from the branches to the ground provided access to the hereafter for departed souls. The nearby mountains that separated Panama from Columbia portrayed the skyline.

Tall piles of recently cut undergrowth surrounded the clearing. Native Embera workers stacked the chopped jungle growth as six mercenary soldiers armed with Uzis stood guard. The Panamanian Environmental Authority, whose limited number of park rangers oversees the Darien Rainforest, approved the use of mercenaries since the military refused to provide protection for a nonstrategic expedition. On either side of the pyramid were ten limestone cones about five feet tall and deeply concaved walls made of stone bricks behind each set of cones.

At the top of the pyramid, a fair-skinned Panamanian woman named Soledad took pictures of Mayan glyphs just below the base of the pyramid’s triangular capstone elevated on six-foot high stone columns. The six-foot tall capstone had an eye chiseled on all four sides, but the eye was a right eye, unlike the All Seeing Eye associated with pyramid art, and loosely associated with the New World Order’s conspiratorial connection to the Illuminati.

At the base of the pyramid, Horado swept some dirt away with a broom and then kneeled to study the pyramid’s foundation.

Horado, a Panamanian in is early forties, had the dark features generally associated with Hispanic people.

Professor Benoit emerged from the jungle into the clearing followed by Colonel Agusto and two mercenary soldiers. Col. Agusto, a physically fit man in is early fifties, exuded the commanding presence of a military man. Professor Benoit quickly noticed Soledad’s long blonde hair glistening in the sun. In his mid-thirties, his chiseled masculine facial features accentuated Professor Benoit’s rakish appearance. Dressed in camouflaged pants tucked into his waterproof hiking boots, Professor Benoit was apparently no stranger to jungle environs.

Professor Benoit removed his backpack as Horado leaned his broom against the pyramid and approached the group.

You must be Professor Benoit. How was your hike? Horado asked.

Professor Benoit nodded, and the two men shook hands as Professor Benoit offered, It was good you blazed a trail, the jungle swamp was so thick. I understand why this magnificent pyramid was never discovered until recently.

Horado responded, We owe the discovery to an Embera chief. I’m Horado; the archeologist and on top of the pyramid is Soledad our expedition’s cultural anthropologist.

Professor Benoit replied, Nice to meet you Horado, please call me Ben.

Ben and Horado walked toward the ground cones as Ben queried, So these limestone cones are producing the sound anomalies I came to study.

Yes, they seem to induce a trancelike state when activated, quite perplexing, Horado replied.

Ben asked, How do they become activated?

Music, Horado announced. Soledad has a tape player, and accidently activated them one evening. It was actually an extended F chord in one of her songs that caused them to hum for about thirty minutes.

It’s a resonant frequency, Ben remarked, but of course, I’m here to research the effects of the sound.

Col. Augusto interrupted, I’m going on a reconnaissance patrol soon. Are you going or staying Horado?

Ben asked, Why do you need to patrol?

To make sure there are no FARC soldiers around while Horado does more archeological exploring, Col. Agusto responded.

Were you briefed about the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia? Horado asked.

Yes, they’re a guerilla force of Columbian Marxist and narcotics terrorists who hide out here in Panama’s rainforest, Ben replied.

Col. Agusto scowled at Ben, signaled for one of his men to gather the patrol, turned back to Horado, and asked, Where are the others?

Reena and Amoldo are at the Embera hamlet on the mountain, Horado replied.

He no sooner finished his remark than Reena, followed by Amoldo and two male Embera guides emerged from the jungle led by one of the mercenary soldiers. The soldier walked to his tent as Reena and Amoldo approached Ben and Horado. While approaching, Reena pushed her wide-brimmed jungle hat back. As it fell to rest on her back suspended by a looped cord, she tilted her head back and shook her shoulder-length black hair before waving. Horado waved back as Ben adjusted his impulsive gawking at her poise and grace as she walked straight toward him. As she neared, Ben focused on her creamy light olive complexion and experienced a déjà vu sensation of familiarity.

Dashing, Reena thought, and your eyes look so kind. Reena smiled at Ben as she extended her hand, locking her elbow. You must be Professor Benoit.

Ben returned her smile and gently shook her hand. Yes, and you’re Dr. Meira, of course.

Just Reena, please, she remarked.

Nice to meet you at last, and call me Ben, he countered a little too eagerly.

Reena turned to Amoldo. This is Amoldo, a Mayan shaman from Guatemala.

Soledad suddenly joined the group and interrupted with excited news. She informed the group that the glyphs seem to indicate one must strike the capstone to activate the ground cone humming as part of a ceremony she’s interpreting.

Amoldo asked, Is it a shaman’s ceremony?

No, a Mayan priest’s ceremony, Soledad replied excitedly.

Aha, then, native aristocracy or tribal leaders must’ve been present, Amoldo exclaimed.

Reena