The “chorus” of angels that accompany the responsibility of the overcoat are comprised of what many would call “the usual suspects”, except with one substitution. Not being versed in angelic lore, I had no way to vet the change and determine if it was within the expected bounds of this work or was a marker that I was being deceived greater than I ever had been before.
(As if there were “expected bounds” to this work in the first place!)
I had turned over the idea in my head and poked at a few websites but ultimately determined that the only way this chorus of angels was going to prove itself would be by demonstrating that proof the hard way.
So when I went to bed last night with my head full of thoughts about the chorus, I wasn’t disturbed by the circling thoughts. Having my sleep continually interrupted with the name of the angel that stepped up rolling around my mind, annoyed the hell out of me instead.
Except for a thin summary, I knew nothing about this angel. I knew that there were some ceremonial, angelic, and/or Christian magicians that worked with this angel, but I was not one of them.
The name kept waking me. I wasn’t hearing anyone speak it. I wasn’t hearing a phantom voice hovering near the pillow. I wasn’t experiencing any physical sensation that would bring the name to mind. But it kept me from sleeping all the same.
With each consideration of the name I felt a pull to the corner of my room set aside for meditation. Despite the late hour, I felt obligated to sit there and focus on the name as if it would transport me to the angel’s presence, or vice versa.
But between getting home very late because of work and having to go back to work the next day, I didn’t want to give up any of my sleeping time. Besides, it’s not like I’m the kind of person that an angel would summon, right?
I finally fall into a deep sleep. I dream I am surrounded by the same chorus of four angels from before. The overcoat appears as a plain shawl that has been draped over my shoulders. The four angels stand around me in human form on diagonal points relative to my position. They are holding their hands in front of them as if to push against me but they are not touching me.
“[Scribe] waits for you. Go. Listen.” Their combined voices are heard inside of my skull. I’m confused for a moment as [Scribe] is one of the four standing around me. They suddenly press in, though I never see them move. I am squeezed out of the dream.
I wake up in a cold sweat despite the chill of the room. Suddenly restless, I can’t bear to be in bed any longer. I sit up, thinking that if I just give the angel the five hot seconds that they want, then I can go back to bed.
But as I approach the meditation cushions, I am suddenly filled with disgust. Despite having taken a shower before going to bed, I feel filthy. I don’t feel good and my skin feels like every worry and concern has manifested into a sticky film covering each and every inch of me.
The angel can wait, I decided. I went and took another shower in the middle of the night so I could feel human and decent again.
Refreshed, I again start for the meditation cushions, but now I’m suddenly so exhausted, I walk past the cushions and crawl back into bed. Before my head has settled into the pillow, [Scribe’s] name begins to loop through my awareness again. Just before I fall asleep, I have the realization that the midnight shower was prompted by the angel, though its purpose escapes me.
I open my eyes to find I’m standing in the midst of the chorus of angels again. The overcoat is present as a deeply brown large shawl wrapped around my shoulders. Three of the four angels of the chorus are standing on the diagonals to me again with their hands held out as if to hold me in place. The fourth angel, [Scribe], is on the front right diagonal, but is so far away from me, that I can barely see them.
They appear as a barely recognizable human form with indistinct edges. Their color deepens and darkens into something like shadow that flows over every part of them, body, clothing, and all.
“You questioned my involvement. You questioned my presence. I stand here before you. Still you question?”
They spoke without sound and I understood them completely. The presence of the other three angels kept me from moving towards [Scribe], but I was lucid and had realized that physical limitations did not apply here.
“Yes. I question. I am ignorant of many things and know only falsehoods of many more. Am I accepting the name I was given because it feels familiar? I require confirmation of this adjustment.” I was not afraid of any of the angels or the situation I was in. I had already accepted the involvement of angels as a result of accepting the overcoat, so this was just more of the same now.
The figure raised their hands towards me. “And how will you confirm the answers I give you here? Who is the authority that will vouch for me? You have been seeking for the ten days since you were given my name, and you are no closer to a writ of authenticity than you were that night. Are you willing to accept on faith?”
Oh boy. There’s that f-word: Faith.
My knee-jerk reaction is to always reject whatever I am being asked to accept on faith, even if there is a mountain of evidence to support the thing. I did not realize I had started to move away from the angel until I felt the pushback of the other three angels holding me in place.
I pulled the shawl tight around me and remembered how the chorus is connected to me in the first place and all that has happened regarding the overcoat/shawl. I released my grip on the intangible cloth.
“Yes. I’m willing to accept on faith.”
They raised their arms to their side and in doing so, their arms doubled. Their shadow extended behind them to become great sweeping wings. I did not realize they were standing until they were floating. Their feet were obscured by more shadows extending in a soft spiral around them. It wasn’t until I had to lower my gaze that I realized that they had been emanating light all this time, just in a spectrum that my human sight could not see.
What I thought were shadows, was literal black light that was what the angel used to create a form for me to see and the source of illumination in this place.
“Observe.” I lifted my head and saw that [Scribe] was now within arm’s reach of me. In one of their many hands, they held a large chunk of something like calcite that had been made flat on one side. The mineral changed color as they held it.
They reached out with a free hand and pointed at the space in front of me. The other three angels had disappeared when the table came into being. On the table was an open book that was surrounded by three similar minerals that were standing at three diagonal corners of the open book. [Scribe] placed their mineral at the open position that corresponded with their diagonal placement relative to mine. When they released their grip on the mineral, they disappeared as well.
“Do you understand?” [Scribe’s] voice echoed in my mind. “This is how you start. Do you see the four stones in their positions? They are not us but they will represent us. How well they represent us will be determined by how much you ask us to influence their nature. Ask us often.”
“Listen well. Which stones you use will be determined by your ability to obtain them. Which colors of stones you use for each of us will be determined by our nature and our influence. Choose carefully.”
“There will be those who will say that you have chosen poorly due to your limitations, and that we will not respond if you do not do such and such or this and that. Know that if it were under any other circumstance, they would be correct. But you bear [the overcoat] and the responsibilities that come with it. We will teach you how to use those responsibilities.”
“In time, you will have [angel altars] as you have seen in use by others. But you are not ready for such things today. You will have to start somewhere, and [these stones] are how you will begin that work. You may use these stones for [that endeavor] as well as for [dedicated work].”
“When these stones are not in use, they must be contained in cloth for storage. Wrapped or bagged, whatever contains them must not be leather or wool, but must be of a natural fiber such as cotton or flax.”
As the angel was communicating, I reached out and picked up one of the minerals. My mind immediately mapped it to calcite, and calcite it and the other three became. The four stones shifted colors in a seemingly random and unpredictable manner, which did not surprise me because except for [Commander], I had no idea what colors would best represent each of the angels.
I placed the fist-size calcite on the table. The book closed of its own accord and a moment later, the book, table, and calcites disappeared. Immediately I was surrounded by the chorus of angels with their hands now touching the shawl and pressing in on me.
Their combined voice filled me with a deep awe that shook me to the marrow of my bones as they gave me a directive I could not disobey.
“GO NOW IN PEACE!”
Instead of waking, I descended into a deep sleep where I did not dream but was very aware that I was sleeping.
When I finally did waken, I found I was able to remember the entire sequence of events from the first compulsive stirrings to the final command of the dream itself. Doubt tied itself around my nerves and I had difficulty parsing what I had experienced.
What gave me peace and allowed me to accept the instruction were the calcites viewed in the dream. The angel is right, I will have to start somewhere. The angel altars I have seen elsewhere are high level constructs, representing years of dedication, work, and devotion.
I do not have that support. I have some books, some questionable websites, and some folks who may or may not know just how much shit I’ve gotten myself into again.
Calcite is cheap, easy to obtain, and available in many colors. I just have to do the homework of finding reliable information about the angels that make up the chorus and what colors would be appropriate for them.
Normally, I would not be posting about this subject, but here I am, back
being compelled on my bullshit again.