Michael Jackson: The Afterlife Experiences III, The Confessions of Michael Jackson
by marilynn hughes
Michael Jackson: The Afterlife Experiences III, The Confessions of Michael Jackson, By Marilynn Hughes - Returning to give a confession regarding those things in his life which have remained a mystery, the afterlife experiences of Michael Jackson continue as Michael engages in an open self-examination through out of body travel experiences with Marilynn Hughes. Sometimes surprising, sometimes touching . . . Michael Jackson opens up about the personal issues (and the things the world perceived as issues which perhaps were not so much) in a very forthcoming manner.
This journey is fun at times, uncomfortable at others. But it is an out of body travel journey which Michael insisted on sharing. Reach into the personal thoughts Michael Jackson has had since the time of his death regarding the controversial and uncontroversial matters of his life. This is a new Michael who is no longer afraid of such self-examination nor of sharing it publicly because he knows that this personal sharing has redemptive value for the world. An Out-of-Body Travel Book
This journey is fun at times, uncomfortable at others. But it is an out of body travel journey which Michael insisted on sharing. Reach into the personal thoughts Michael Jackson has had since the time of his death regarding the controversial and uncontroversial matters of his life. This is a new Michael who is no longer afraid of such self-examination nor of sharing it publicly because he knows that this personal sharing has redemptive value for the world. An Out-of-Body Travel Book
JUNE 25, 2010, FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF MICHAEL JACKSONS DEATH
Michael Jackson came back to visit on the night before the anniversary of his death for the first time since he had to leave at the culmination of Michael Jackson III. It was a heartfelt reunion, we hugged each other a long time. He was smiling and very happy . . . very quiet, too. He just took my hands and looked at me for a while and we were both happy to see each other again.
"Please tell everyone I said hello on my anniversary." Smiling, he had come prepared to enjoy the honor given by his fans by wearing red sequins as if planning to enjoy the party. And the following night, the day of his anniversary, he came to show me several things which he wished me to share with all of you.
Approaching his tomb in the mystical realms, his body was laid out for display. Wanting me to take pictures of many things, I held a camera and prepared to do so. Taking a picture of his body, it was surprisingly dressed in a light colored red, rather than the white which I had expected. And his body was in perfect condition. But this was in the mystical realms . . . symbols. The color seemed to possibly be a symbol of a certain kind of martyrdom.
Somebody was nearby and watching him, a black man. Michael desperately wanted me to notice him, claiming he was a former manager who was no longer looking out for his best interests. "This man is pushy and out to ruin me." But he never told me who he was. A essence of something evil was around this person, something was really off . . . it was really potentially damaging to the family. "There's somebody around my family . . . a manager, trying to capitalize but not interested in my heart" He said. He asked me to go look at the Emerald Tablets of Thoth, an Ancient Egyptian text.
"Yet, beware, the serpent still liveth, in a place that is open, at times, to the world. Unseen they walk among thee . . . again as time passes onward, shall they take the semblance of men." The Emerald Tablets of Thoth, Doreal
Seeing a huge release of albums, there were piles of produced and designed CD cases containing the huge amount of music that Michael had written but not released during his lifetime. It appeared I was seeing them as they would be released over time. He wished me to take a picture of that, too. So I did.
Katherine, Michael's mother, stood over her son's body and held him. He asked me to take a picture of his mother holding him, and I did.
Quietly, Michael stepped out of his body in the spirit no longer wearing red. He was wearing the robe of a monk, a simple brown robe.
"I would like to invite you to come with me to the monastery," he said, "the monastery where I am currently studying." Instantly, we were there. Michael and the other all male monks had given me a quiet cell where I could 'stay the night,' but I could feel how imperative it would be for me to leave by morning because this was a holy place of stillness, silence, quiet and peace. I didn't wish to interrupt or interfere with the work of the monks that Michael had joined.
Michael left me alone in the room where I made myself comfortable and felt really strongly that I should not stay very long, but I was required to stay the night.
Suddenly, groups of people began showing up . . . fans . . . and they were invading the quiet and peace of the monastery. Somebody had taken up shop at the entryway accepting admission fees to get into the monastery. When they came in, I realized that my cell had been chosen for its proximity to the mystical entrance to this abode and I immediately confronted the many groups who were all of a sudden converging on this holy place. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "The same thing you are doing here," they said, "We want to see Michael Jackson."
Looking at them oddly, I said, "I was invited and this is a place for seclusion and quiet, this is not a place for fans to visit." Shooing them away, I was shocked by what felt to be such an invasion and blasphemy of a holy place.
After they were gone, Michael came out and began talking with me. "People want these journeys, but just to check me out . . . that's not what this journey is about." Agreeing, I was still a little bit in shock that these energies were able to intrude the sphere of the holy monastery. And I understood that part of the reason I'd been invited was to protect Michael and the monks from the onslaught which was expected to come on the anniversary of his death. So I now understood that there was purpose in me having been invited this particular night and my discomfort ceased.
Michael and I then began speaking throughout the night of many things. "I've learned to lean on God about my former vanities," he said, "and this is helping me to overcome this aspect of myself." Michael then began showing me how as he exhibited different emotions, various brilliant colors would appear around him inside his auric field. "I have also learned how to properly and with sanctity make use of all my emotions in a Godly way."
Quietly, he said to me, "Marilynn, please tell them to leave me alone now, and let me water my soul . . . " I nodded, I understood. "Let me show you something," Michael said, as he took my hand and walked me over to his cell. Outside his cell door was something difficult to explain because it was ethereal and yet unfinished. At the same time it was stunningly beautiful. "I water a beautiful chapel just outside my door. It is 78% grown now, the chapel within which represents my soul." I looked at the ethereal chapel which was growing like a plant or a tree and I was in awe. "Wow," was all I could say. "When I am finished, I will go onto my next trainings." Michael said.
"I want to dedicate something to Maya Angelou." He said. Confused, I said, "Okay, what?" "I'll just dedicate something unseen from my spirit to her, I've seen her spirit since I've been gone and I honor it even more now than I did while living."
"Oh, another thing," he said, "I'm learning more about meditation in the monastery. And I've learned that some people really don't quite get it naturally. Tell them they really have to work at it. I know you've already told them that, but they are not hearing this well enough. You really have to work at the meditation, I've learned so much from the monks here at the monastery on how to truly meditate." "I will tell them that, Michael." I said. "You're right, it's a hard thing to teach others, it's a discipline which has to come from within . . . and it takes a lot of effort and great amounts of concentration and time."
"Look over there," Michael said, pointing to another older monk, "He was a Protestant Pastor during life, he's trying to write down everything he's learning here."
Smiling, Michael suddenly said, "I have a gift for you." Before I could respond, an angel appeared standing in front of us; a large white one with huge wings and a white robe. Michael said, "You really nailed the new CD's," he said, as I realized that he was in part behind the inspiration to make the latest Chant CD's we were releasing. And the angel replied, "God is really happy about them." And then they both disappeared.
"A seeming paradox is contained in the words brought from the future of infinity's end. The Torch Bearer of Insupportable Brightness is the beginning and the end of all things, for as all things proceeded forth from it, so in the end they must return to it, thus completing the circle. In the Torch Bearer the eventual is conceived, thus the plan is known to the direct emanation . . . " The Emerald Tablets of Thoth, Doreal
"Please tell everyone I said hello on my anniversary." Smiling, he had come prepared to enjoy the honor given by his fans by wearing red sequins as if planning to enjoy the party. And the following night, the day of his anniversary, he came to show me several things which he wished me to share with all of you.
Approaching his tomb in the mystical realms, his body was laid out for display. Wanting me to take pictures of many things, I held a camera and prepared to do so. Taking a picture of his body, it was surprisingly dressed in a light colored red, rather than the white which I had expected. And his body was in perfect condition. But this was in the mystical realms . . . symbols. The color seemed to possibly be a symbol of a certain kind of martyrdom.
Somebody was nearby and watching him, a black man. Michael desperately wanted me to notice him, claiming he was a former manager who was no longer looking out for his best interests. "This man is pushy and out to ruin me." But he never told me who he was. A essence of something evil was around this person, something was really off . . . it was really potentially damaging to the family. "There's somebody around my family . . . a manager, trying to capitalize but not interested in my heart" He said. He asked me to go look at the Emerald Tablets of Thoth, an Ancient Egyptian text.
"Yet, beware, the serpent still liveth, in a place that is open, at times, to the world. Unseen they walk among thee . . . again as time passes onward, shall they take the semblance of men." The Emerald Tablets of Thoth, Doreal
Seeing a huge release of albums, there were piles of produced and designed CD cases containing the huge amount of music that Michael had written but not released during his lifetime. It appeared I was seeing them as they would be released over time. He wished me to take a picture of that, too. So I did.
Katherine, Michael's mother, stood over her son's body and held him. He asked me to take a picture of his mother holding him, and I did.
Quietly, Michael stepped out of his body in the spirit no longer wearing red. He was wearing the robe of a monk, a simple brown robe.
"I would like to invite you to come with me to the monastery," he said, "the monastery where I am currently studying." Instantly, we were there. Michael and the other all male monks had given me a quiet cell where I could 'stay the night,' but I could feel how imperative it would be for me to leave by morning because this was a holy place of stillness, silence, quiet and peace. I didn't wish to interrupt or interfere with the work of the monks that Michael had joined.
Michael left me alone in the room where I made myself comfortable and felt really strongly that I should not stay very long, but I was required to stay the night.
Suddenly, groups of people began showing up . . . fans . . . and they were invading the quiet and peace of the monastery. Somebody had taken up shop at the entryway accepting admission fees to get into the monastery. When they came in, I realized that my cell had been chosen for its proximity to the mystical entrance to this abode and I immediately confronted the many groups who were all of a sudden converging on this holy place. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "The same thing you are doing here," they said, "We want to see Michael Jackson."
Looking at them oddly, I said, "I was invited and this is a place for seclusion and quiet, this is not a place for fans to visit." Shooing them away, I was shocked by what felt to be such an invasion and blasphemy of a holy place.
After they were gone, Michael came out and began talking with me. "People want these journeys, but just to check me out . . . that's not what this journey is about." Agreeing, I was still a little bit in shock that these energies were able to intrude the sphere of the holy monastery. And I understood that part of the reason I'd been invited was to protect Michael and the monks from the onslaught which was expected to come on the anniversary of his death. So I now understood that there was purpose in me having been invited this particular night and my discomfort ceased.
Michael and I then began speaking throughout the night of many things. "I've learned to lean on God about my former vanities," he said, "and this is helping me to overcome this aspect of myself." Michael then began showing me how as he exhibited different emotions, various brilliant colors would appear around him inside his auric field. "I have also learned how to properly and with sanctity make use of all my emotions in a Godly way."
Quietly, he said to me, "Marilynn, please tell them to leave me alone now, and let me water my soul . . . " I nodded, I understood. "Let me show you something," Michael said, as he took my hand and walked me over to his cell. Outside his cell door was something difficult to explain because it was ethereal and yet unfinished. At the same time it was stunningly beautiful. "I water a beautiful chapel just outside my door. It is 78% grown now, the chapel within which represents my soul." I looked at the ethereal chapel which was growing like a plant or a tree and I was in awe. "Wow," was all I could say. "When I am finished, I will go onto my next trainings." Michael said.
"I want to dedicate something to Maya Angelou." He said. Confused, I said, "Okay, what?" "I'll just dedicate something unseen from my spirit to her, I've seen her spirit since I've been gone and I honor it even more now than I did while living."
"Oh, another thing," he said, "I'm learning more about meditation in the monastery. And I've learned that some people really don't quite get it naturally. Tell them they really have to work at it. I know you've already told them that, but they are not hearing this well enough. You really have to work at the meditation, I've learned so much from the monks here at the monastery on how to truly meditate." "I will tell them that, Michael." I said. "You're right, it's a hard thing to teach others, it's a discipline which has to come from within . . . and it takes a lot of effort and great amounts of concentration and time."
"Look over there," Michael said, pointing to another older monk, "He was a Protestant Pastor during life, he's trying to write down everything he's learning here."
Smiling, Michael suddenly said, "I have a gift for you." Before I could respond, an angel appeared standing in front of us; a large white one with huge wings and a white robe. Michael said, "You really nailed the new CD's," he said, as I realized that he was in part behind the inspiration to make the latest Chant CD's we were releasing. And the angel replied, "God is really happy about them." And then they both disappeared.
"A seeming paradox is contained in the words brought from the future of infinity's end. The Torch Bearer of Insupportable Brightness is the beginning and the end of all things, for as all things proceeded forth from it, so in the end they must return to it, thus completing the circle. In the Torch Bearer the eventual is conceived, thus the plan is known to the direct emanation . . . " The Emerald Tablets of Thoth, Doreal