white light
appeared in the depths of the dark
universe before me. It was far off in the distance but exploded toward me at a
14
fantastic speed, like a brilliant sun
racing from the other side of the universe to swallow me in the hotness of its light.
Now I flew toward it, like a tiny dot of light racing to meet a planet of unspeak-able radiance.”
Harold Klemp recounts this classic
Soul Travel experience in his book Autobiography of a Modern Prophet . It occurred while he was in training to become the Living ECK Master. On this visit to the God Worlds accompanied by the ECK
Master Rebazar Tarzs, he would learn
how the ECK helps people with burdens
of the heart. Harold continues:
“It was like flying into the sun, passing through a curtain of light, and coming out on the other side to a world of gorgeous colors. I hung suspended in
space, a splendid light (the glorious Soul body) of seeing, knowing, and being.
“Below me lay the dazzling white sands of a beach, with a multiplicity of blue-and-green ocean waters; the waves
washed mildly upon the sand. Small birds 15
ebbed and flowed with the tide, mirroring the give-and-take of life. The bright blue sky was unclouded by haze of any
kind. This must be heaven , I thought.
“In the next instant, I was atop a high cliff overlooking the ocean. How can one describe the perception of Soul, since, despite this great height, it was possible to see and hear as if my feet were walking in the warm sands of the beach below?
“ ‘Look, in the distance!’ commanded a deep baritone voice beside me.
“Startled, I looked around. It was
Rebazar Tarzs, the Tibetan ECK Master, who no doubt was my benefactor in providing this trip to a most beautiful heaven of God. Gripped in his powerful right hand was a stout walking staff of shoulder
height. With his left, he pointed far down along the beach, where two dark figures were walking.
“Suddenly, from our vantage point on
the steep cliff, the distance between us and the two specks collapsed. Time and space had both crumbled. My spiritual
16
vision jumped to the two figures in a
twinkling and showed a man and a woman slowly walking the beach toward us. To my surprise, the smallish man was my
friend and Master, Paul Twitchell — the Mahanta. The other person was a young
woman in a flowing white gown that
billowed softly around her in the gentle sea breeze. Slender, with brunet hair, she stood somewhat shorter than Paul. Pain and trouble had drawn her face into a
tight band, and she plodded beside him as if in a daze.
“The two beach walkers passed well
below our observation point on the cliff.
A cloak of light surrounded us, and
Rebazar made the comment, ‘This warm
light that bathes us is from the Ocean of Love and Mercy. It is the Holy Spirit and is a reflection of the light from the atoms of God.’ Rebazar’s ruby red robe was
barely to be seen in this mist of golden light, which seemed to enwrap me too,
although I could not see myself.
“ ‘This sphere of golden light is the
17
Soul body,’ he said, ‘the highest of the forms of man.’
“On the beach below, the heavyhearted
woman trudged beside Paul. A shuffling trail in the sand marked their slow pas-sage, meandering footsteps at the edge of lapping wavelets. Paul saw us on the cliff and waved his hand, but an invisible
screen shielded us from the woman. They inched along the beach, slowly shrinking in the distance. A long way off stood a lighthouse, their destination.
“ ‘The sorrows of life have cut sharply into the spirit of that young one,’ Rebazar remarked, compassion modulating his
musical voice. His speech was not in outer tones, yet it came through the electric atmosphere of this remote world of God as clear as a bell. . . .
“. . . The woman had tried to commit
suicide, but the Mahanta stepped in to prevent it. For months thereafter, he took her out of the body at night and brought her to this serene paradise by the
appeared in the depths of the dark
universe before me. It was far off in the distance but exploded toward me at a
14
fantastic speed, like a brilliant sun
racing from the other side of the universe to swallow me in the hotness of its light.
Now I flew toward it, like a tiny dot of light racing to meet a planet of unspeak-able radiance.”
Harold Klemp recounts this classic
Soul Travel experience in his book Autobiography of a Modern Prophet . It occurred while he was in training to become the Living ECK Master. On this visit to the God Worlds accompanied by the ECK
Master Rebazar Tarzs, he would learn
how the ECK helps people with burdens
of the heart. Harold continues:
“It was like flying into the sun, passing through a curtain of light, and coming out on the other side to a world of gorgeous colors. I hung suspended in
space, a splendid light (the glorious Soul body) of seeing, knowing, and being.
“Below me lay the dazzling white sands of a beach, with a multiplicity of blue-and-green ocean waters; the waves
washed mildly upon the sand. Small birds 15
ebbed and flowed with the tide, mirroring the give-and-take of life. The bright blue sky was unclouded by haze of any
kind. This must be heaven , I thought.
“In the next instant, I was atop a high cliff overlooking the ocean. How can one describe the perception of Soul, since, despite this great height, it was possible to see and hear as if my feet were walking in the warm sands of the beach below?
“ ‘Look, in the distance!’ commanded a deep baritone voice beside me.
“Startled, I looked around. It was
Rebazar Tarzs, the Tibetan ECK Master, who no doubt was my benefactor in providing this trip to a most beautiful heaven of God. Gripped in his powerful right hand was a stout walking staff of shoulder
height. With his left, he pointed far down along the beach, where two dark figures were walking.
“Suddenly, from our vantage point on
the steep cliff, the distance between us and the two specks collapsed. Time and space had both crumbled. My spiritual
16
vision jumped to the two figures in a
twinkling and showed a man and a woman slowly walking the beach toward us. To my surprise, the smallish man was my
friend and Master, Paul Twitchell — the Mahanta. The other person was a young
woman in a flowing white gown that
billowed softly around her in the gentle sea breeze. Slender, with brunet hair, she stood somewhat shorter than Paul. Pain and trouble had drawn her face into a
tight band, and she plodded beside him as if in a daze.
“The two beach walkers passed well
below our observation point on the cliff.
A cloak of light surrounded us, and
Rebazar made the comment, ‘This warm
light that bathes us is from the Ocean of Love and Mercy. It is the Holy Spirit and is a reflection of the light from the atoms of God.’ Rebazar’s ruby red robe was
barely to be seen in this mist of golden light, which seemed to enwrap me too,
although I could not see myself.
“ ‘This sphere of golden light is the
17
Soul body,’ he said, ‘the highest of the forms of man.’
“On the beach below, the heavyhearted
woman trudged beside Paul. A shuffling trail in the sand marked their slow pas-sage, meandering footsteps at the edge of lapping wavelets. Paul saw us on the cliff and waved his hand, but an invisible
screen shielded us from the woman. They inched along the beach, slowly shrinking in the distance. A long way off stood a lighthouse, their destination.
“ ‘The sorrows of life have cut sharply into the spirit of that young one,’ Rebazar remarked, compassion modulating his
musical voice. His speech was not in outer tones, yet it came through the electric atmosphere of this remote world of God as clear as a bell. . . .
“. . . The woman had tried to commit
suicide, but the Mahanta stepped in to prevent it. For months thereafter, he took her out of the body at night and brought her to this serene paradise by the
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