I happened upon a white and silver door and decided to go in. I found myself in a white chapel, coming out of a golden doorway into a chamber with a woman dressed in linen.

She had a thick book in front of her that I was interested in and so I asked her what she was studying.

She introduced herself as Aariel and spoke of an order she was a part of that deified the angels that live in the multiverse. She said they were created to serve the other beings, by listening, sending signs and influencing events so that the greater good could be achieved.

I asked who lead them and she answered: “There is a council of elders that has existed for thousands of years that monitors the distortions and energetic fluxes that happen within their rule. It extends far, yet the multiverse is endless so they are bound to only work within what is known. Travellers do not care for documentation and the connections are mostly personal. The regime does not seek to conquer, it only wishes to influence – listening to the voice of creation as their guide.”

The book was a story of a angels that had written down their discoveries – there were many ones like it in the shelves that stood behind her and she was studying through them to find out how to find them – for she is in telepathic contact with them.

She said they do not work in the realms we traverse in such a manner that they are seen all too often. They have trouble coping with the deep fear based systems that hold part of our emotions in place.

Their nature is that pure love, yet some get corrupted and lose their wings from one life time to the next.

Fate weaves a tale of healing at the risk of being influenced themselves – so their lives are not without peril.

The presence of that that I cannot see seems off to me and the conversation takes a slant that she is not favourable of. I question too much and believe too little she says to me. It reminds me of cultures that attempt to attain the unattainable through means such as blind faith and things like death and deals with the devil.

I share similarity for I do not believe I will attain union with my loved one but seek her none the less – so we all have our unattainable goals that we cannot divide ourselves from. The incessant and obsessive, inflicted belief in the outside world is like a curse to me, for I believe all the answers can only come from the inside. Why is it so difficult to trust in yourself, while it remains so easy to believe others that could be just as mad as you are.

What is the definition of sanity when it comes to every day life? We are built up of what we need to deal with, what we enjoy, what we need to do and what we believe in. The last of which is optional when it comes to a structured form of belief.

There is the nature of the multiverse that puts every being on one plain and treats every experience with respect, not disrespecting time by weighing one experience over another. Just an equilibrium – and then there is a hierarchy that stems from disconnection from unity that one can optionally believe in.

This person seemed to be of unity mixed with hierarchy. She was trying to fit the two together, as most religions try to do.

We can always grasp, but what is it that makes us do so if peace and unity keep staring us in the face by prompting us to let go. Furthermore there are those left that do grasp that are a splinter in ones eye if you are totalitarian enough to want all of creation to be united.

The problems never end.

So my perception is sceptical but I am interested in how she defends her view point. Can I convince her? No. But is the conversation fruitful? Yes.

Our beliefs strengthen as our conversation goes into a better space with me accepting the premise of angels existing. Since there is documentation there must be a way to see one for real.

She says: “There are only the fallen – the ones driven mad by their own inadequacy and plagued by memories of their past lives as angels. Many do not believe them since there is no more proof.

They are often named the unfeathered foes.

For they stand for a world that is devoid of distraction, distortion and disconnection. They have been used to worlds that are in connection with higher beings and cannot function in the lower worlds they used to help so much. They suffer the world pain and falter at the injection of fear into their spirits by their fellow man. Gone is their healing ability and few are free to take up the journey of attaining their talents again. So they congregate in secret and are rejected from societies that feel their own norms to be different from theirs. A cruel fate for the fallen. If I ever meet some of them I will take care of them but I fear that there is so much pain in losing ones wings that I cannot mend them.”

It seems to be quite the subject, but I’ve had enough. I exit the chapel and walk down the path that leads into the open world to gather my thoughts.

After a long stroll I accept that I could see an angel on my path or at least a fallen one – or at best – a falling one. I do not know to what extents my intent can lead me but I’m putting in the chance of it happening some time. If I ever find a feathered door I’ll have a look.

Many possibilities are open in this world and I do not discriminate but predict that most of what we dream of is just wishful thinking. I might be condemning myself from experiencing such amazing things but its all to stay within boundaries that make life liveable – my head is not big enough to incorporate unicorns and vampires.

Feeling as though our good bye was a bit troublesome I go back to the chapel to express my gratitude for patience with this unbeliever, but as I go through the golden door I step into my familiar transitional space once again.

The air is humid and the light is dim. My spirit sinks as the free world of angels and other mythical beings was so much more optimistic.