A friend of us, a woman who lives somewhere in the Pre Pyrenees had at least two strange encounters with the Knights Templars. She lives on their former property, a big old house, a nearby chapel, where we had session two times, years ago. When you open the door, you think you fly. And after a passage through an oak forest there is a plateau, big enough for big gatherings which contains a Templar cross out of iron, forged out of two pieces. At this holy place some scientists wanted to drill a hole into the underground and build a station for measuring earth activity. The woman could not accept this destruction. Because she is a tough woman, who even went to the Camino de Santiago without any money, walked to the plateau with her cell phone and started to message for help. At the same time she was fasting, only living by water, day and night, sleeping in her sleeping bag on the plateau. She did so for a whole week. None of the local politicians could change the location of the station, before, even with the help of all her many friends. At the last night of the week she looked up into the sky and saw an army of white-red Knights Templar riding over the firmament. She was speechless. And she was told “Don´t worry, everything will be fine.” Next day, after she returned home, a man showed up and asked: “Is it true, that this is a Knight Templar property?” “Yes.” She said. “Let me make a call to Madrid.” He answered and pulled out his cell phone. Short after that the station was moved to the edge of the plateau, hidden behind trees. Some of her friends built a huge stone circle in the tradition of the Camino Rojo, the European branch of the Native Indian way. So this place really has something. Her second encounter with the K.T. s was more indirect. Somebody left a letter for her down in the village, without any sender or author. It said something like this: “We will wait for you at that time in the Chapel of Mary Magdalene. When you don´t come we will not contact you in this life time again.” But our friend did not preparing herself well; she ended up lost in the dark forest on a tree, protecting herself from the wild pigs. She said also something interesting when we spoke about the Cathars. She looked over the Pyrenees line to France and said that me, that she sensed the survival of the Cathars at some hidden places.
I met a man on the French side how rememered his grand grandma still crossing herself in the “wrong way”, (right-left, not like the Catholics) like the Cathars did. I still enjoy this kind of stories; even I used enough time for looking into the past for the secrets of salvation. I do enjoy applying the solution now, which is, that I am still as God created me and that God is penetrating everything within the false realm of separation, inviting it back into the oneness of the whole Universe.