Sunday, July 19, 2015

Meeting Max



   We didn’t know what to expect while driving to Pueblo, on our way to spend some time with an ancient crystal skull. We did know some mosquitos there had recently tested positive for West Nile Virus, so traipsing through the wet cemetery afterward was definitely off. We’d seen several programs over the years which documented many of the unique properties of these legendary skulls, but we each wanted to go in without projecting any assumptions about the particular one we were going to see.




 
   Max was believed to be thousands of years old and one of the most ancient artifacts ever discovered on this planet. "He" was discovered in Guatemala and had been used by Mayan priests for healing rituals and ceremonies. Lama Norbu, a man training to become a healer with a Tibetan sect of Red Hat lamas, worked with the Mayans and eventually Max found a home on his altar. In time, a woman named JoAnn Parks sought his help for her 12-year-old daughter who was battling cancer. Before his death, Norbu gifted the skull to JoAnn, who stored it in her closet for 10 years. After the death of her daughter, she began travelling with Max to assist with healings, consciousness and peace-raising ceremonies.
 




   Max has been researched by the British Museum and was the focus of a BBC documentary as well as appearances on A&E, the Discovery and Travel Channels. The previous evening James and I had been watching an episode of Ancient Aliens concerning the crystal skulls. It was a little too glossy and obnoxious for me, for I found the visuals distracting and thought the researchers were obviously reading scripted material. I found an old episode of Arthur C. Clarke’s Mysterious World far more balanced. Perhaps Max did have off-planet origins, or ties to Atlantis. Either way, quartz contained no carbon and was therefore impossible to date. Still, he was constructed with five different pieces of quartz. It was an impossibility, something a British scientist said should not exist. I simply tried to find a quiet moment beforehand to meditate. This was not easy during a busy high-traffic payday Friday. I eventually found inspiration with an Indiana Jones soundtrack.



   The moment we entered the room Max was in, I knew we were in the presence of something significant. I paid careful attention to my thoughts, my feelings, my body. I paid close attention to the temperature of the room and the ambient sounds surrounding me. Many people had over the years taken photos of Max which featured bizarre anomalies. In addition to a regular digital camera, I also brought a GoPro which could capture several shots within a second, as well as a full-spectrum camera capable of "seeing" beyond the infrared. On my wrist I wore an EVP recorder, in hopes of picking up ancient voices or mysterious sounds. I so wanted to find something anomalous, but I had nothing to offer the skull. I simply sat before it and projected love, peaceful thoughts, humility. I closed my eyes and Instantly the image of a Mayan temple sprung to mind. I thought of ancient technology, saw the skull being used during psychic surgery, saw it present during astronomical events. Was I really seeing these things or were these simply residual thoughts from the programs I had watched the night before?



   I used to work with a woman who seemed to delight in playing corporate games. Anything she could do to get further up the ladder, stepping over others through carefully manipulated betrayals. She quickly became my employer’s pet. When she began to cross me, whenever I thought of her, I thought of her dressed very provocatively. I wasn’t attracted to her in the least, but this image always sprung to mind. I found it very distracting and unsettling, seeing her out of the corner of my mind smoking a cigarette, a bra strap having fallen off her shoulder, one of her high heel shoes about to fall of the end of a toe. This was before I completely understood archetypes and archetypal language. Eventually I would learn that she was appearing as a prostitute because she truly was selling her soul to get ahead. After that I began to pay more attention to these impressions and why I was seeing them. This was more than ten years ago. My abilities have since improved. 

 
   Myself, James and two honorary members of The SpiritChasers, Rebecca and Shawn, each took turns sitting with Max, asking questions and taking photos. I shone high-powered flashlights through him. I shot lasers through every side. I took close-up high-resolution pictures in micro mode in hopes of capturing the odd pyramids, faces and UFOs that others were known to. I took photos with my full-spectrum camera but out of all of these, I only noticed one anomaly. Any photos featuring light reflection or glare were very clearly discernable with the full-spectrum camera, though one image did feature an odd trail of light when Max was asked to show an energetic display.


   When playing back the EVPs we had recorded, we kept hearing what sounded like wind blowing, or the rushing of air caused by passing cars on a busy highway. There was no such highway nearby, the window was closed, there were no fans or cause for this aural anomaly. James, who is usually quite skeptical, received the impression that our questions would be answered at a later time in different ways. This ancient record-keeper operated within a time differential. I looked forward to my dreamtime but the first of them did not include any skulls or ancient technology I so wanted to see. One of my impressions concerned Max being present during human sacrifices. I saw fountains of blood cascading down the steps of a stone temple, almost sparkling in the humid moonlit air. It was simply an embarrassing period in human history, but it happened nonetheless, and one evening later I woke up screaming, having dreamt of my right hand being attacked by a jaguar.
 


   We each left Pueblo with one crystal skull, Rebecca and mine were made out of quartz and James and Shawn's were made of opalite. All of them had been charged by Max's energy and James and I marvelled at how his skull could pick up even the dimmest ambient light, intensifying it and displaying sunset colors on its lower jaw. I carried mine with me all the next day in my left pocket, reminding me of ancient power and ancient mysteries, grounding and assuring me in a way no other charm has. JoAnn was absolutely delightful, a true elder, who suggested we name our crystal skulls. Mine felt like Rex, and he rests at my bedside, perhaps holding something of Max's encoded knowledge as he looks upon me throughout the night. When first encountering Max, I told him I was an explorer, an adventurer, a soul on a quest for hidden knowledge. Somehow I felt that he already knew this. I felt observed the entire time we spent with him. I felt that I wasn't good enough to be in the presence of something so great, just a trivial human seeking out some sideshow attraction. The next day, however, I awoke feeling completely refreshed and absolutely blessed. I felt great hope and great reassurance, like I had been granted a new power, something at the cellular level brimming with a new energy. I don't even know what happened, I was in such a trance, but the following morning, on my way to work, I was happy to see myself smiling in the rearview mirror.
 


   Last night James and I watched Contact together. James often forgets about movies which makes him so fun to watch movies with, it's almost like seeing it for the first time. In the scene where Jodie Foster's character is verbally fencing with Matthew Mcconaughey's character about faith and God, he asks her if she loved her father. Surprised, she replies that she does. He then asks her to prove it. This is how I felt about this experience, much like Ellie Arroway's frustration in Contact where she has an almost spiritual experience but is unable to share this wonder with or prove it to anyone else. I hadn't seen Contact in years but felt so compelled to view it after seeing Max. I am a believer, but I don't believe that things have to happen as I believe they might. I will take the Divine any way it wishes to appear to me. I hope my faith will be rewarded, projecting these wishes onto Rex as if he might somehow relay this signal to a greater power. Touching Max, feeling how my hands fit into his cheekbone depressions and wondering how the ancients accessed his information while I held my nose to the hollow of his, was like holding a telephone to God and not knowing the number.
 


   I only know that I did have a very special experience that changed me, that breathes within me, that remembers me, that perhaps sees me not as a trivial human but as an explorer climbing the stone steps of a Mayan temple with an Indiana Jones soundtrack playing in the background. Perhaps one of these nights my dreamtime mind will have decrypted the subconscious download of my encounter with Max and I will have realized that the jaguar, ancient animal totem of the Maya, was simply trying to place a reward in my receiving hand. The evening air will be humid, the moonlight will cascade all throughout the hills and valleys of my body. While I unravel more nighttime mysteries, Rex will catch me smiling in my sleep.

 

   Thank you for reading.

   Christopher Allen Brewer

   July, 2015


 
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