The Quest for the Divine Glance

This is a guest blog for Barbara Franken which should actually be over on “The Skyclad Writer.”  Wrong link!  I’ll post it here and there, too!

The Quest for the Divine Glance

Rumi wrote of it. Christ Yahshua (Jesus) certainly experienced and shared it, when he spoke of “letting your eye be single,” and “full of light.” The Hindus and Sikhs call it Darshan.

And yet, with millions of Christians in this country, it seems virtually unheard of. Even feared.

This is the story of my first experience with the most powerful encounter with God — looking into God’s eyes.

I experienced it for the first time at the Healing Center in Columbia, SC, sometime in late 2001 or early 2002, if I recall. The group focused on “A Course in Miracles” and they had a leader from “The Academy” as it was referred to.

I came in a little late and the group had already started. The leader, Peter, was standing with his arms up in the middle of the room. I think someone told me later that what he was doing was called, “creating the space,” but I can’t be sure. Peter was a tall, thin man with a fascinating accent (Australian, maybe?) and medium brown close-cropped hair. He looked at me with this loving smile of joy on his face as I came into the room. I felt instantly connected to him even though I had never met him before and then I felt a force come from him that touched me all around my head and shoulders.

I didn’t recognize what it was at the time and Peter himself did not seem to know what he had done. When I told him after the meeting what had happened, he said, “That wasn’t me, that was you!” Actually, I think it was both of us. I was ready to receive it and he was ready to give it.

This happened shortly after I had a spiritual awakening in which I became aware of the presence of God in the here and now. For three months I walked around in a state of bliss. As Neale Donald Walsch says (or God says, through him) “Heaven is nowhere. Now. Here.”

It was probably a year or two later before I met a man who knew what this experience was and how to share it with intent. He was a Sufi who made chain mail armor and jewelry to sell at renaissance fairs. I met him, believe it or not, on an online dating site. His spiritual name was Hanuman but his birth name was Manny.

Manny was not much taller than I am, around 5′ 5″ or 5′ 6″, thin, with long dark hair and deep brown eyes. His physical presence hid an incredibly beautiful spirit. He was Jewish but had become a follower of Sufism, the esoteric, mystical sect of Islam. He once told me that if he were on a plane hijacked by Muslim extremists, he would be one of the first they would want to kill but that he could keep the plane safe by going into a prayer chant, “La illaha illa ‘la,” There is no God but God. Muslims are forbidden to kill someone while they are connected to God, so if they were truly Muslim, they would be unable to blow up or crash the plane as long as he was praying.

When we went out on a date, he told me that there was a time when for an initiate to enter the order, he had to be able to demonstrate mastery of the Fire breath. The initiate was taken out into the snow and told to sit under six wet blankets. In order to be accepted INTO the order, he had to use the Fire breath to dry all the blankets and melt the snow for six feet around him. Imagine that.

So, over dinner in a noisy restaurant, we were talking about our favorite subject, God, whom the Sufis call “the Beloved.” I think I must have been expressing my joy in His presence and my love for Him. (Although I refer to God as He and I experience Him as masculine, I feel that Spirit is both masculine and feminine, and neither. God is Spirit. I know and respect many who experience God as She.)

At one point Manny went silent. He dropped his gaze for a second and then looked up at me and gave me the most loving, joyful smile I had ever seen. When I looked into his eyes it was suddenly like looking into the eyes of eternity, into an infinite depth of stars. That force I had felt before, through Peter, touched me with undeniable power. I felt this immense Love and suddenly it was all joy, all of it, existence itself, and I had to laugh. I knew without a doubt, this time, that I was looking into the eyes of God, the Beloved.

This may upset some people but I felt in that instant like life was a huge cosmic joke we are all enjoying. I remembered what Neale Donald Walsch taught me and I felt it when I looked into the Beloved’s eyes. I know this is hard for people who have experienced a lot of pain in their lives to hear, but we are all doing this to ourselves! God is not outside of us, judging our every move. He is INSIDE us, living with us through everything that we call into our path. So it is our choice whether to experience joy or pain. I prefer to give Him my joy.

I remember saying in that instant, “I felt that!” Manny said, with that same joyful smile, “I know.”

Soon after our date in Hilton Head where I lived, I went down to Florida to visit Manny. This is where I found out that the Divine Glance can also be dark.

Once, Manny looked at me and I saw something hungry, predatory, and arrogant. I can’t describe it any other way except “demonic.” I felt an instant of terror and I told him, “I just saw something… else…” He said, “Something more human?” I said yes, because I couldn’t bear to tell him what I really saw.

I don’t know what was different in that moment. Perhaps he was thinking of me with lust and that was why it shifted. Perhaps it was some unnamed fear in me, of him, that I was projecting. I don’t know, but that instant still haunts me. I would like to believe that aspect of the Divine is a mask, an illusion.

Manny told me that he did share the Divine Glance in an unusual way once. He had a female friend who was being stalked by a man who claimed to be a Satanist. When this Satanist was bothering her at a party, she came to Manny for help. Manny looked at him with the Divine Glance and the man got a look of terror on his face. He left immediately and never bothered her again.

If the Divine Glance is a mirror, I can imagine what he saw. I would bet he dropped Satanism.

I was able to share the Divine Glance after Manny shared it with me but I have also experienced someone receiving it as darkness from me when I did not intend it that way. I thought my intent was pure but I honestly can’t say now. I had just done a healing session on a woman which had gone extremely well, miraculously clearing almost all of her pain, but before the session she told me she was feeling a lot of fear in her life. Perhaps it was her fear of God that called it darkness. Or perhaps it was my ego that twisted it. Maybe I was “showing off” just a little instead of sharing.

I do not believe in coincidence, so what does it mean that her name was also Sarah? For me, it calls up the scene from one of the Star Wars movies, when Luke Starwalker goes into the dark cave and fights himself.

For a long time, I stopped trying to share the Divine Glance after that. I did go back to sharing it without that experience of darkness eventually. I think it is time to share it again, this way. I was afraid for a while that talking about it would create resistance from the ego but I believe ultimately in Divine Order. This article will come to only those who are ready to read it. I don’t expect it to get a huge following but I would be thrilled if it did! Perhaps we are all ready to awaken.

So, keep that ego in check, and keep your eyes open for the loving Glance of God. I will be looking for you in Heaven, Beloved… Here and now…

And the quest is complete when we realize our journey is not TO God, but WITH God.  With the Beloved.


26 – Anguish

Rakhanar tore his gaze from the bloodstained sheets and pressed his hand to the wound in his side again.  Could this all be my blood?  Where is Anyah?  Why can’t I remember?

“Anyah!  Anyah! Are you here?”  He waited, tense, hoping for an answer from downstairs, but only silence returned to him.  Dark foreboding settled on his shoulders with the weight of an anvil.

He pulled his hand away from his side again and peered at the cut.  It sliced red against his dark skin, only about an inch across, but it was hard to say how deep it was.  He knew that when he went berserk, his metabolism also ramped up his healing ability, so it might have been a vicious cut, but by now nothing more than a sting.

Did I attack her?  Did she do this to me to defend herself?

Springing from the bed, he lurched to the mirror like a lion on the attack, slapped a palm to his shoulder and turned to examine his back.  Streaks of red glared back at him, a stark accusation.

She raked my back!  I must have hurt her! She must have been fighting me …   Ye gods – what did I do?  Please, please, don’t let it be that I … killed her. 

Rakhanar shoved his hands into his hair, grimacing into the mirror.  His heart hammered against his ribcage and his stomach did backflips, worse than the day before, his first hangover. He had the urge to howl, something, anything to relieve the pressure building up inside of him.

Don’t panic.  Maybe it’s not what it seems.  Maybe we fought, but she just left.  It’s not like her body is right here …

He turned and jumped up on the bed, stood looking out the round wide window, panting.  Remember …  I have to remember …

25 - Anyah Anguish 3

* * *

~Diaman Darshan~

Wizard of Wildfire & Shadow Walker Wordsmith ((a/k/a  The Real Me ))

Diaman Fighting with Fire

25 – Anyah Agony

25 - Anyah Anguish 1

Awakening was a struggle, swimming up from depths unknown into a shot of sunlight, piercing from the round window above his bed.  Rakhanar’s back stung in streaks and the sheet clung as he groaned and sat up slowly.  An ache down his left side twisted him.  He grimaced, slapped his palm to his side and brought it up to peer at it.  It came away bloody.  Nausea churned in his gut.

What in the world?  Was I in a battle?

His brain resisted him, stubborn; the memory of the night before hiding from him like a relentless assassin.

Wait… I didn’t go back to Crushbone Keep, I went to the hall.  He closed his eyes, tight, and bit his lip. It all came back in a rush, up to the point where the world went black.

Anyah …

Opening his eyes, he snapped his head to the side and plunged a hand into the tangled mass of sheets beside him.  They were blood-stained.  He was alone.

Rakhanar stared, in shock.  Ye gods, what did I do?

* * *

~Diaman Darshan~

Wizard of Wildfire & Shadow Walker Wordsmith ((a/k/a  The Real Me ))

Diaman Fighting with Fire

24 – For Love or Money

Her breath in his ear formed soft words that kicked him in the gut with a stiletto heel.

“… When I was in Neriak, I used to have sex for money.”  Anyah pulled back slightly, grinning as he turned his eyes to meet her mischievous gaze, close.

Rakhanar stared at her silently for a long time, stunned.  Sex for money? I never would’ve imagined.  The idea didn’t appeal to him at all. If I want a female, I want her to want me, not my gold.

Amused by his reaction, she smirked up at him, reached up to stroke his hair.  “You’re just too cute!  You had no idea, did you?  What, have you never been with a female?”

Instinctively, he yanked his head back, startling at her touch like a high-strung stallion.  He took a step back, disentangling himself from her, and grabbed her wrist.  He forced a laugh.

“I’ve been with lots of females,” he lied.

He didn’t think she was buying it.  “Right.  I see.”  She pursed her lips, nodding sagely as she extricated her wrist from his grip and slowly dropped her hand.  He caught her quick glance at her bracer, as if he might have … damaged it?

“How old are you, anyway?” she said, her one revealed eye narrowing, the other still hiding under the veil of her white hair.

“Si – Eighteen.”  Damn.  Blew it again.  I really suck at lying.

 “Mhmm .”  She crossed her arms under her breasts, again pushing them up in a tantalizing display of cleavage.  He could barely keep his gaze from dropping.

She said ‘used to.’  Maybe she doesn’t do that anymore?  Maybe she’s making a new start and she just wants a friend after all?  He licked his suddenly dry lips and opened them to ask her, hoping …

 “I know another game I’m sure you’ll like…”  Slowly uncrossing her arms, she drew her hands over her own flesh in a caress, then slid them up to cross again, higher, stroking over her collarbones.  She slipped her fingers under the straps of her dress at her shoulders and watched him from that one intense blue eye as she teased them down ever so slowly.

His heart went into overdrive.  A shadow of red broke at the corners of his eyes.  Dangerous.  His body started responding, in spite of his resolve.  Does she just want money, or does she really want me?

Her blue-black fingers moved ever-so-slowly, revealing her smooth flesh, until her dress slipped down over the top of satiny bits of clothing that cupped her breasts magically, sans straps.  She let it fall lower, exposing a flat stomach and a tiny waist with such a sweet curve inward.  Lower, over her hips…  And then she was standing with her dress piled at her drop-dead sexy stiletto heeled boots, in nothing but tiny white satin panties and that matching magic creation that lifted her breasts to his hungry gaze.  And those silver bracers, shining against her skin.

Anyah stepped closer, and he stood frozen as she slid her arms around his neck and brought her face so close to his, he felt her sibilant breath on his lips as she spoke.  “Like what you see?”

He just stared at her, silently, red throbbing at the back of his eyes.

“I’ll let you do anything you want to me.  I’ll even let you … finish inside me…”  She whispered, barely brushing her lips against his.

He moaned.  His black vanguard greaves were suddenly binding, as his shaft pulsed with heat. Why is she doing this? I don’t want a female who just wants my gold.  I want her to want me. She doesn’t even have to do that for me, if she doesn’t want to.  I’d give her money for nothing if she needs it. 

It came to him then, how he could find out what he wanted to know without revealing his ignorance to her.  He narrowed his eyes, gave her a slanted smile and managed to speak in a low, casual tone.   “How much for that trick?”

Anyah chuckled, low, sexy.  “I’ll let you decide that.”

Damn.  Damn, damn, damn.  I was really hoping she’d say she didn’t do that anymore.  He reached up and grabbed her wrists from the back of his neck, prying her off of him as he stepped back.  “Wrong answer.”

It was her turn to stand gaping in shock as he flicked her wrists away and headed for the stairs.  Maybe he was just a romantic, but he didn’t want his first time to be with someone who didn’t care about him, didn’t really want him, just his money.  As he headed up the stairs, he looked down to see her watching him, pouting as she pulled her dress up over her shoulders again.

“Well, my dear berserker, if you change your mind, I’ll be around …”

“Right.”  He scoffed.  He was so disappointed, he nearly went on up without another word, but he paused.  “I don’t need to pay for it, Anyah.  If you needed money, all you had to do was say so.”   Meeting her stunned gaze for a moment, he saw something flash across her eyes. He hoped it was regret, but in all honesty it looked … darker.   Anger?  Shame?  Or humiliation?  Rakhanar continued up to his room, not waiting for her answer.   He thought he heard the click of the door as he tugged at the straps of his new cuirass, then peeled the heavy dark armor from his chest and tossed it in his war chest.   His body was raging, burning for release, but he knew how to handle that.  He stretched and sighed heavily, preparing himself for a long, lonely night, the red still humming behind his eyes.  It’s for the best.  No telling what might have happened.  I might have lost control, and hurt her.  I need a friend, someone who understands, someone I care about, someone I know and trust.  Otherwise, I might mark her as a threat if I black out…

He turned, and …

Anyah was there, in his room.  She pierced him with hot, dark blue eyes, her beautiful black body nearly bare again, so enticing with that stark white wild hair matching her panties and bra.  Heat flared in him instantly as she jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and slung one leg up to hook around his still armored hip.  Her satin sheathed breasts pressed against his bare chest as she spoke, breathless.

“I don’t want your money, Rakhanar.  I just want you.”

Seduced by Anyah

Rakhanar didn’t have a chance. Flashes of fire spiked through his body, red flared in his eyes, throbbing with his quickening heartbeat.  Her hands were deft and demanding, hungry.  She knew how to strip him of his vanguard greaves, and the next thing he knew she was writhing under him in his bed, naked but for the silver flash of her bracers.

“Take me, NOW!”  Her eyes were wild, her voice demanding.

He did.

The red …

… flashed white.

And then, everything went black.

* * *

~Diaman Darshan~

Wizard of Wildfire & Shadow Walker Wordsmith ((a/k/a  The Real Me ))

Diaman Fighting with Fire

23 – Seduction

As it turned out, teleporting into Kelethin in black full plate armor with a dark elf by his side was a mistake.  It wasn’t immediately apparent to Rakhanar, who was used to getting odd looks from the fae as he moved through the city with his hood up or his helm down.

His first clue was the dead silence. The next was when the Fae scurried away quietly, while the Chrono Masters who were posted near the globe glared.

Anyah looked around and bit her lip. “Do you think you could show me where the palace is real quick?”

Rakhanar looked down at her. “I don’t see why not. To be honest, I’ve never been there myself.” He headed off in that direction, moving a little more carefully since his helm, in visible mode, made it slightly harder to navigate across the high hanging walkways; even if the fall from the walkway didn’t kill him, it would certainly kill his chances with Anyah.  Strangely, the friendly Fae guard on the lower levels seemed to have disappeared. As they approached the palace platform, Rakhanar heard shouts and clashing metal, as if the palace guard were readying for battle.

“This may not be a good time for a visit,” Anyah said quietly. “Well, at least I know where it is.” She looked up at him and gave him a sly smile. “We can always come by later. How about you show me your home?”

Rakhanar peered down at her and, nearly forgetting his need for concealment, started to open his helm. He caught himself, glanced around warily, and then leaned over to see her better. “Uh… Wait, what… My home? Oh, sure, yeah…”

Whoa, Rakh, that was smooth. Now Rakhanar was glad for the helm which hid his darkening skin. He tried to remember if he had left anything embarrassing out in full view in his drunken state, and he found to his dismay that his heart was beginning to race.

She slipped her hands around his elbow, as dangerously plated as it was, and he turned to head back to his little acorn house. Suddenly his armor felt like an oven, stifling hot within the helm. He desperately wanted a friend, especially a female friend, but something about this didn’t feel right.

Anyah glanced over her shoulder and then back up at him. Although there was no heavy march of plated boots as with human soldiers, there was a definite sense of approaching chaos as the Fae guard floated closer. It was a silence broken by the slice of shifting armor and drawn swords.

“Maybe we should hurry. I don’t want to get caught in their way.” Anyah looked up at him, dark blue eyes widened slightly. He sensed her fear, along with a strange scent – excitement. Stepping up the pace, he rounded the top of the walkway connecting to the platform where the crafting Hall and the Silverleaf Inn were. The innkeeper, Twiggy, cowered back as he marched by nearly dragging Anyah as she clung to his arm. It was amazing how differently the Fae responded to him simply because his armor was no longer the shining silver of their protector, but the foreboding black of the unknown.

Is that all it is?  It occurred to him that it might appear to Twiggy that he was forcing Anyah into his house until she giggled just as he snatched open the door.

He had the distinct feeling that he was doing something wrong, but he didn’t know what. Guilt, confusion, the world spun too fast, and dammit, his helm was suffocating. Snatching it off, he slung it to the wall, yanking the door shut behind them. He shook his head, swinging beads of sweat from his wild hair.

“Tainted Tunare!  What was that all about?”

Anyah clapped her hands together, clasping them between her breasts in a fetching pose. She beamed, her smile wide with mischief.  “That was about fun!”

“Fun? Something’s not –” Rakhanar growled, but she interrupted him with a dainty skip forward, to catch his arm again. Her scent struck him like a wave she was riding, wafting over him, strong, murder in thistle, myrrh in smoke. Enticing, but somehow deadly.

“Oh, come on, lighten up! Let’s play a game. I’ll even let you go first. This game is called, ‘Secrets,’ and it’s wildly popular where I’m from.”

“Neriak, eh?”  Rakhanar narrowed his eyes, but he allowed himself to be mollified, even while his instincts screamed that it was against his better judgment.  She’s a guild mate, surely Lord Toran checked her outRelax, Rakhanar. He tried to convince himself, taking a deep breath to reinforce it, but it barely stuck.

“Yes, Neriak…  Delightful place!  You’ll love it there.  Er, I mean, you would love it there, if you ever came to visit.”

Rakhanar scoffed, flicking up a brow.  Well, let’s see where she takes this.  “Okay, so, this game? ‘Secrets,’ you call it?”

“Yes. You tell me one of yours and I’ll tell you one of mine.”  She smirked, shimmying a little closer to him.  “All right?”

He studied her.  My secret.  Not much of one, now, but one she should definitely know, if she wants to be my friend.  “All right.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “I have a problem… Controlling myself.  I have these rages. I have to be careful not to kill people close to me.  My friends, allies… I can’t tell, sometimes. I just go blind with it.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she shivered, but she was smiling.  “Ooooo…  Dangerous!  How thrilling!  You’re a berserker!”

He looked at her askance.  “Aye.  So I’ve been told.”

“We have quite a few of them in Neriak.  We… well, we don’t see them around much, though.  Only in battle.  Surprising to see you here, in Kelethin, unchained.”

“Unchained?”  He gaped at her in shock.  “You chain them up?”

She tightened her lips, clearly realizing she’d said too much.  “Hmm…  Well, I’m sure they’re not nearly as strong-willed and self-disciplined as you are.”  She leaned into him and pressed her palm against his armored chest.  “Anyway, my turn.”

“So…”  She lifted up onto tippy toes, reaching up to cling to the back lip of his armor at the neck with one hand, while cupping her other hand close to his ear. Her scent was overwhelming now, and if not for his armor, her soft flesh would’ve been pressed against his hot skin, smothering. And his skin was hot, ratcheting up with every passing second and every oh-so- casual, accidental brush of her fingers against his chest and arm. But her next words, meant to be whispered seductively no doubt, hit him like a bucket of ice water in the face.

* * *

~Diaman Darshan~

Wizard of Wildfire & Shadow Walker Wordsmith ((a/k/a  The Real Me ))

Diaman Fighting with Fire