In 1982, I began to have a series of nightly precognitive dreams and daily awakened visions after being prompted by a series of 11:11 incidents on digital clocks.
This changed my life from a full-time employee (computer programmer) to a part-time computer-programmer contractor and part-time adventurer (gold prospector) and part-time explorer of the mysteries of life and beyond.
In the early 1990s, I wrote four novels. It was the last thing on my Bucket List.
My first three novels took place in Topanga, California, central Arizona and central Montana, respectively. I had lived in two of those places and have a strong familiarity (past lives, plus several visits) with the third. I've been everywhere west of the Mississippi River except Oregon and Washington.
But when I wrote my fourth novel (THE ELEVENTH SAGE), I chose to use western Oregon as the location. The story could have taken place anywhere, but for some strange reason (strong intuitive feeling) I decided this was where it must take place.
The area in the novel is west (and somewhat north) of Eugene, Oregon, near the ocean.
The bulk of the story takes place at a "sanctuary, retreat" in the wilderness in a (fictional) place called Grotto Mountain not far from the Pacific Ocean, at a latitude slightly north of Eugene.
The main character in the novel sustains a head injury and subsequently finds himself in a sanctuary at the base of Grotto Mountain where he goes through a series of levels of life-altering lessons in various metaphysical disciplines such as the true meaning of dreaming, reincarnation, altered states of consciousness, parallel dimensions, invisible allies and so forth.
After the main character advances through the levels of teaching, he is compelled to find an entrance into a cave area within Grotto Mountain where he encounters what appears to be the face of a lion on the cave wall, where he then makes his specific mark as the First Sage, and exits the opposite side of the mountain to encounter a mysterious woman who lives in the wilderness and shares her mystical knowledge with him.
Later in the story, after the main character has recovered from his head injury (journey into another world) he stumbles upon the real sanctuary, just as in his "hallucination" of the sanctuary, whereupon he again goes through the same levels of metaphysical advancement and once again finds himself within the cave area of Grotto Mountain. This time there are 10 other marks around the face of the lion on the cave wall, including the original mark he had placed there in his "hallucination" state. Thus, he places his mark once again -- to become the Eleventh Sage.
My four novels were published in 2000-2001.
In 2001 - 2007, I wrote a weekly newspaper column.
In April of 2007, a friend suggested I should put my columns on Myspace.
In July of 2007, I created a Myspace site and began posting my columns. Along the way, I began to pick up a few column readers and people asking to be a Myspace friend..
In October of 2007, a woman who was a concert pianist requested to be my friend. Upon examining her Myspace website, my eyes were drawn to a person who looked like a Nordic Goddess named "Sonyah Gustav Student and the Guru" who posted a comment on the pianist's site, which included some references to the 11:11 phenomenon.
Thus, on 11/07/07 (interesting date), I wrote a message to Sonyah, curious about her thoughts on 11:11, which was the beginning of a cyber friendship between the two of us. Sonyah was extremely intelligent, her list of reading material was very impressive. She seemed to have a thorough knowledge of many ancient historical events and myths.
Over the course of time, I learned that Sonyah lived in Oregon, west and north of Eugene, in the same exact vicinity where my novel, THE ELEVENTH SAGE takes place.
She also believed she was a special soul. This is one of the early message I received from her (as she wrote it).
I am a doe, a deer, a female dear, the Shechinah that went into exile with my people. I am King and Queen of the Tribe Naphtali, through birth and physically anointing by my father, which in turn makes me the high priestess of the order of doves, meaning the Magdalene, just as my grandmothers before me, of which also married David, and Solomon.
I have the blessing of King for right now, because I have had no one worthy to pass that anointing to.
Queens are not made by clergy, but by birth. Kings are made by the anointing of Princess, or Queen. Those appointed by clergy in the spiritual realm are illegal.
I appreciate your attempts to understand. What it boils down to, Magdalen is not a name, it is a title, of a specific family line, that of Naphtali. I am the Magdalen of this 21st century, of which is also the vessel of the spirit of Isis. (Osirus still has yet to be pieced together.)
Another reference to ash, I am the awaited red heifer of prophecy.
There is much to be told, to be revealed, clarified, mapped out, and understood, but I do not have the talents of a writer to make it sewn. I wish I did. All I know are the details. I need scribes, this I do know.
My full name means: Kosher, preserved, picked by el, gust av son, good staff, pure, consecrated to the service of YHWH, 2 in 1, Son Yah, to beget the eternal wisdom. My name describes my true character and ambitions.
Did that answer anything, or make more questions? You want to be my scribe? :o)
Sonyah believed she was the "current" Magdalene, as in Mary Magdalene. Not in reincarnation, but rather in manifestation. To her it was a title, given by a king. And her mission in this life was to bring peace on earth.
The following is another message she sent me (as she wrote it), about when she gave birth to a child in a cave.
February 27th, ThorsDay at sunset, 1997.
On my journey to the cave, I took with me a blue bird, two miniature goats, one was purchased for $25, and black, the other free and white, and a green eyed wolf, of which I had rejected three times, and again came back to me, all of which were to be set free.
The entire journey there was made with eyes closed.
There was a freak snow storm, of which provoked the radio dj to say, "the land is clothed in the purest of white, pure as the driven snow.
When I had gone to enter the womb of the earth, my eyes had opened for the first time on the journey, and on the rock four inches in front of my face, was a 3 inch scorpian with an out stretched tail. I had never seen one in such a position in my life.
The wolf is the mascot of the tribe of Benjamin, and represents the Alter. In this episode, it killed both the goats, of which where signs given me at crucial moments below.
In the bare nakedness, as in my innocent beginnings, I entered the womb of the earth.
I crawled about the space of a football field, on my hands and knees, in the pitch black, with nothing on but my skin and determination to sustain me, not knowing when, or if there would be a return, not sure in the least what to expect: crawling over crystal shardes that had dripped from the ceiling over the millenia, the sharp near glass like texture pressing against my flesh, testing my resolve as I crawl through the blackness, trying to avoid the many deep dark pits, sporatically spread throughout the cavern, ready to meet what ever destiny had instore, even if head on, in the deep pitch black of a pit, sure to have a bottom, but without guarante to be found.
I was prepared to fall in, to never be heard from again, for at least that would give me my answer that I was wrong, and full of crap, and could finish this endless nagging spiritual persuit to the answers of everything I was ever to find, to somehow complete a mission that I new began before the earth ever was, to acomplish what I did not yet know, and if I did not finish, I would not be able to live with myself, for not giving my all when I got the impressions to act.
In the pitch blackness, darker then any night above the earth, the only symblym of impressions that broke the stillness of the absolute pitch black, was the head of a lion, proturuding from the earthen wall, very fine in majestic detail.
It was the only thing percieveable, it was plain as could be, not bright, but like the faintest of shadow, in the greatest of detail.
Yes, indeed. Sonyah was in a cave and the only thing she saw was the head of a lion on the cave wall. This totally blew my mind. I then sent her my novel about Grotto Mountain with a cave that included the head of a lion on the cave wall.
Sonyah was a bit "impressed" when she read the book, but not surprised. I had the feeling very little in the way of coincidence or synchronicity would surprise her. However, the last page of the novel did indeed impress her -- she actually found it to be profound. It was a rare occasion when I could impress her instead of the other way around.
In my book, the main character eventually becomes the main Guru of the sanctuary in western Oregon. Sonyah told me about her plans to build a sanctuary in western Oregon where she would be the main Guru.
By the way, Grotto Mountain is simply a fictitious name I came up with. In subsequent research, I learned that Mary Magdalene supposedly lived out her life in a "grotto" in France -- another profound synchronicity with Sonyah and THE ELEVENTH SAGE.
I talked to Sonyah on the phone on one occasion when she had a pronounced southern accent, like she was in a Tennessee Williams play. When I asked her why the accent, she told me she was the Oracle of the Southern Cross and had just been in a state of mind where she was had been communicating with the divine spirit of the Southern Cross and it always puts her in a southern mood.
She also told me once that she had been in contact with Native American tribal elders and they proclaimed her to be the "red heifer" in Indian prophecy.
She believed she was of the Holy Grail bloodline of David & Solomon and had been manifested to bring balance upon the earth.
My relationship with this marvelous magical mystery tour went on for several years. She was a muscular 6' 2," wore size 12 shoes and weighed about 200 pounds (after dropping some 200 pounds through special dieting). She was quite striking with long flaming-red hair, prompting me to call her "Red Sonyah."
She believed she was an Amazon (in spirit) but that Amazon women were totally misunderstood. She also claimed to be Nephilim.
So many more stories to tell about her.
It broke my heart to learn she died in January of 2011 -- an accident in a creek or river near her new home, which happened to be south of Salem, Oregon, on Fairview Highway.
Coincidently, I live a few miles south of Salem, Arkansas, at the end of Fairview Road -- synchronicities with Sonyah never seem to end.
In all likelihood, Sonyah would have been classified as schizophrenic or bipolar by today's psychologists and psychiatrists. But to me she was the real deal. She believed everything she said and I tended to keep an open mind, wondering if it could all actually be true after all.
Sonyah was indeed a special soul -- her presence had a profound affect on my life and I will miss her.
Rest in Peace, dear friend.
Quote for the Day -- "I am truly grateful for each and every human being that desires a better day to live in, and works to make that happen." SonYah Gustav
Bret Burquest is the author of 9 books, including THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY, ORB OF WOUNDED SOULS and PATH TO FOURTH DENSITY (available on Amazon). He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and the ghost of Red Sonyah.