While traveling throughout many countries of the world, I abided for some time in the city of the conqueror Gonzalo Jimenez de Quesada, at the foot of the mountains of Monserrat and Guadalupe.

During those times when the Second World War was already approaching, I was introduced to a very exceptional friend in that city.

His name was Sucre and he was also traveling.  He had come from a certain port on the Atlantic to the summit of the Andes in search of a university education.

Everything was very curious with that friend from other times, even the unusual introduction itself.

Someone whose name I will not mention knocked at the door of my dwelling one night with the apparent purpose of inviting me to a serious conversation with the above-mentioned friend...

The location of the meeting was certainly not very beautiful; a rundown store with a small sitting room.

After all the formalities of introductions, we got to the subject of discussion.

My new friend’s intellectual capacity was clearly evident; a theoretic, speculative, studious person...

He said he was the founder of some Theosophical Lodge and frequently mentioned H. P. Blavatsky, Leadbeater, Annie Besant, etc.

In the exchange of ideas he was without doubt brilliant at making pseudo-esoteric and pseudo-occult statements.

Were it not for his inclination towards hypnotism and his exhibitionist desire, that meeting of friends would have ended peacefully, but, behold, the devil through his tail gets into everything.

It happened that this friend wanted to demonstrate his hypnotic power, and, approaching a gentleman of a certain age who was there sitting at another table, he asked very courteously to serve as a passive subject for his experiment.

Regarding questions of hypnosis, it is not irrelevant to emphasize the idea that not all subjects are susceptible to falling into a trance.

Sucre with his exhibitionist ego was obviously not prepared to be ridiculed.  He needed to demonstrate his power and for this reason he made superhuman efforts to hypnotize the gentleman.

But, all was in vain.  While Sucre struggled and even suffered, that good gentleman was thinking the worst inside.

And suddenly, like a thunderbolt falling in a gloomy night, what had to happen happened.  The passive gentleman jumped up from his place rebuking Sucre, addressing him as a thief, a trickster, a rogue, etc.  But our above-mentioned friend who was not a meek sheep, ranted and raved.

Tables, chairs, cups, and plates went flying through the air, and in the midst of this great havoc were the cries of the proprietor pleading for the bill to be paid.

Fortunately, the police intervened and everything settled down; poor Sucre had to pawn his luggage to pay the debt.

After that extremely unpleasant disaster was over, we arranged a new rendezvous with the aforementioned friend, which went much more peacefully since Sucre did not get the absurd idea into his head of repeating his experiment.

Therefore we clarified many ideas and concepts of an esoteric and occult background.

Later that friend went to the university with the purpose of becoming a good lawyer and was evidently a magnificent student.

One day, many years later, the aforementioned friend invited me to dine with him.  Following dinner we had a conversation about hidden treasures, and so it occurred to me to narrate the following case.

“I was sleeping in my bedroom,” I told him, “when I was suddenly woken by a strange subterranean noise which was mysteriously passing or circulating from northeast to southeast.

“Feeling somewhat startled by such an unusual sound, I sat up in bed to see what was happening.

“Then to my great surprise, I saw the earth opening in one of the corners of my bedroom.

“There appeared as if by magic the apparition of an unknown woman who, in a very refined voice, told me: “I have been dead for many years.  Here in this place I buried a great treasure.  Dig it up; it is for you.”

On hearing my after dinner tale, Sucre passionately begged me to take him to the place where this had occurred, and I clearly did not want to refuse this service...

Another afternoon he came to tell me that he had been in contact with the owner of that house, a very famous doctor of the city, and he begged me to investigate whether or not this person was in fact the owner of said property, as he had his doubts.

I openly admit with the most complete frankness that it was not difficult for me to undertake astral traveling; I simply made good use of the transitional state between wakefulness and sleep.

The instant I began to sleep, I delicately rose from my bed and went out to the street.  Obviously, the physical body remained asleep in bed.

Thereby the achievement of the projection of the eidolon was successfully completed.  I still accurately remember that remarkable psychic experiment.

Flying, floating in the astral atmosphere of planet Earth, I wandered down several streets looking for the doctor’s office.

I prayed to my Elemental Advocate to take me to that office, and it is evident that I was assisted.

Upon reaching a certain house I understood; three steps led to the sumptuous porch of a mansion...

I went through those doors and found myself in a waiting room; advancing some more, I boldly entered his office...

Examining the interior of this last room in detail, I saw a table and upon it a typewriter and some other things; a window looked out onto the patio of the residence; the doctor was seated and in his aura I could see his above-mentioned ownership...

I returned to my physical body extremely satisfied with the experiment. The eidolon is certainly extraordinary...

Early in the morning, my friend learned the outcome of my psychic experiment.

I recounted in detail everything that I had seen and heard; then I saw amazement in Sucre’s face, he knew the office and the information I gave him was exact...

What happened afterwards is easy to guess.  Sucre not only managed to rent the house from that doctor, but furthermore, and this is the most curious part, he made him his partner....

In those days I decided to leave that city despite the pleas of my friend who insisted that I cancel my journey...

When I went back to that place some years later, everything had changed, the house had disappeared...

At that time I encountered a horrible, stony, frighteningly boring property...

And I saw high tension electrical installations, double pump motors, machines of all kinds, and well-paid workers, etc...

Sucre was living right there in a room which looked more like a trench in a battlefield, going in and out, giving authoritative orders to the workers, etc...

That room was protected by gigantic rocks, and in its walls were seen many small windows which could be opened and closed at will.

From the shutters, Sucre watched what went on around him.  Such peepholes were, he used to say, very useful...

Now and then, at the slightest noise from outside, he would seize his pistol or rifle, and then from outside those apertures could be seen opening or closing and perhaps a glimpse of gun muzzles protruding.

That was the state of things when I returned.  So my friend explained to me that this was a much sought-after treasure; it was known as the famous golden calf, and it had upset so many people from the district that he was surrounded by covetous mortal enemies who had the intention of murdering him.

“Bless my soul, oh God, and Hail Mary!” I said to myself... “Too bad I had told my friend about the vision of the treasure... It would have been better to have kept my trap shut.”

Another day, full of optimism, he confessed that forty feet down he had found a figure of baked clay which was good-for-nothing, and inside the hollow head, he discovered a parchment in which the whole plan of the treasure was outlined.

In the doctor’s laboratory, the parchment was carefully removed from inside the marionette’s head; for with time and humidity it had become severely stuck together.

According to the plan, there were four storerooms located forty feet underground; one to the east, another to the west, a third to the north, and the last one to the south.

This plan gave precise indications and information, and at the end had a pronouncement signed with the initials of someone’s first and last name.

“Whoever finds my treasure which I buried in deep wells will be persecuted by the Church of the Patron Saint, and it must not be known for twenty days that the profits which I buried for myself have been removed.”

In those days the Second World War was much advanced; Hitler had invaded many European countries and was preparing to attack Russia.

My friend was an extreme Germanophile and believed very seriously in Hitler’s triumph...

It is clear that, influenced by the political tactics of Hitler who one day would sign a peace treaty with a particular country and the next day would attack the very same country, he did not want to work in accordance with the plan’s indications.

Sucre said to himself: “Such directions are a distraction... The treasure is many feet below the figure; the four storerooms mentioned are of no interest to me.”

Thereby, he abandoned the directions and dug deeper; when I approached that hole, I saw only a deep, black, terrifying chasm...

“Sucre, my friend,” I said, “you have committed a very grave error; you have left the treasure above in the four storerooms and have crazily gone deeper.  No one would have buried a treasure at such depths.”

Obviously such words as I pronounced carried the fragrance of sincerity and the perfume of courtesy....

However, we must speak in plain language in order to emphasize the ego of greed.

Unquestionably, this ego was standing out exorbitantly in my friend, conspiring with cunning mistrust and violence.

It was in no way surprising to me then that Sucre raged and stormed vociferously at me and told me things I had never even thought of.

Poor Sucre!... He threatened me with death, believing for a moment that I was very much in agreement with his known enemies, perhaps intending to steal the treasure...

After all that and upon seeing my tremendous serenity, he invited me to his “trench refuge” for a cup of coffee.

Before I left for good that Spanish city, known in other times as Nueva Granada, that friend asked me another request.

He begged me with all his heart to investigate his subterranean work with the eidolon.

I also wanted to make an astral exploration of such depths, and for this reason I acceded to his plea....

And so it happened that one exquisite night with a full moon, I slept very peacefully in the prone position (on my back) and with my body well relaxed....

Without any concern whatsoever I proposed to keep watch, to spy on my own sleep... I wanted to use that state of transition existing between alertness and lethargy, for my astral exit...

When the process of dreaming began, when characteristic dream images started to arise, delicately, feeling like a spirit, I made an effort to eliminate laziness and then rose from the bed...

I left my bedroom as if I were a phantom, walking delicately, then left the house...

Through the streets of the city I floated delightfully, filled with an exquisite spiritual voluptuousness.

It was not difficult for me to get my bearings; soon I was at the very place where the events took place on the scene...

Before that black, terrible hole which was now more than two hundred and thirty feet deep, an old dwarf, a pygmy, a respectably white-bearded gnome innocently contemplated me.

Floating through the atmosphere, I smoothly descended to the watery bottom of the ill-fated pit of greed...

With my astral feet touching the slime of the humid, shadowy earth, I made one more pleasant effort and penetrated beneath the very floor of the well...

How softly I descended with the eidolon below the black depths of such a cavern from which much water flowed!

Examining in detail every granite rock submerged beneath the chaotic waters, I penetrated very deeply under the subsoil.

It is obvious that my aforementioned friend had left the fabulous treasure above, as was indicated in previous paragraphs.

Now in those abysmal regions I only saw stones, mud, and water before my insignificant person...

Suddenly something unusual happened; I found myself in front of a horizontal canal which left the area heading towards the street...

What a surprise!  Sucre had never talked to me about this.  He had never told me that he had planned to perforate horizontally at such depths...

I slid serenely with the eidolon through the aforementioned flooded canal, advanced some more, and then surfaced at the street.

Having concluded the astral exploration, I returned to my physical body; obviously the investigation was marvelous...

Later, when I reported everything to my friend, he looked very sad.  That man suffered terribly; he wanted gold, emeralds, riches; greed was swallowing him alive...

But he justified himself saying that all this treasure was necessary to bring about a proletarian revolution, supposedly he needed to invest this wealth in armaments, etc.

How dreadful greed is!  In such a place all that reigned was fear, distrust, the revolver, the rifle, espionage, cunning, murderous thoughts, the craving to be in command, to rule, to rise to the top rung on the ladder, to make one’s presence felt, etc.

When I left that city, I made the decision never again to intervene in the motives of greed...

Christ said:

Sell that ye have, and give alms; provide yourselves with purses that do not grow old, a treasure in the heavens that faileth not, where no thief approacheth, neither moth destroyeth. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. - Luke 12:33-34

The Mystery of the Golden BlossomThis chapter is from The Mystery of the Golden Blossom (1971) by Samael Aun Weor. The print and ebook editions by Glorian Publishing (a non-profit organization) are illustrated to aid your understanding, and include features like a glossary and index. Buy the book, and you benefit yourself and others.

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