Imagine a place full of light. Blinding light as you see it high up on the mountains. That is where we are. We are sitting on a stone bench right below a mountain peak. The ridge is ragged. So much so that people in the valley down below know the story of angels with golden saws who had come down and once given the mountain head its current form.

Where we sit, however, we don't see angels. We see a large man-made square stretching out in front of us. It is filled with blinding light. In the East raises the tall facade of the monastery of Montserrat. The North and West sides of the square are shielded by the ragged crescent of the mountain top. The church of the monastery thus takes a strange place: its entrance facing the mountain, its middle ship leading out into the sky and its holy of holy at the far end of the church seemingly almost hanging from the plateau of rock on which it rests... 

Because of this way the church has been built into the mountain, walking through its main portal and into the open yard behind it gives us the impression to enter a building that actually leads out into the sky.

Through the yard we avoid the main entrance. Instead we choose a long queue to its right that disappears through a small door ahead of us. Safe from the sun in the shadows of the arches this is where we join the queue - ready to wait for as long as it takes.

The queue moves forward very slowly. While all the people around us are strangers, we are all standing patiently, speaking in hushed voices in our many languages, waiting to move forward inch by inch. As we find us waiting, moving slowly through the dark arches behind the side chapels of the church, we realize that some sort of magical process has already begun...

I guess, that is the power of sacred geometry? By moving our bodies and minds through certain physical experiences it triggers certain inner experiences. Or at least it offers to do so for anybody who is willing to accept the invitation... In the old days the magical experience of Montserrat began long before we entered the church through a side entrance and formed a part in the long queue of pilgrims. It began when we left our home to walk to the mountains of Montserrat in service to the Black Madonna. Like Ignatius of Loyola had done in the 16th century to lay down his old life in front of Her and to begin a new and completely unknown one...

Today of course this threshold has been lost - as we jump into our cars or planes or busses and ride up the steep mountain in no time at all. The process of slowing down in service no longer forms an essential part of reaching this spiritual place. However, once we have arrive at Montserrat it still comes through. The long queue of pilgrims at its entrance still exists. And it is slowing us down from whatever speed we arrived with. 

The queue actually is so slow that we often stand still for many minutes, cramped behind a cold stone wall, below a dark arch or next to a wooden statue. There is no way we can tell how long this experience will last: The narrow path of pilgrims winds around stone pillars, takes turns, follows the outlines of the sacred architecture of the church. Therefore it could take another ten minutes from any place - just as well as another two hours. 

So as we slow down something happens inside of us. It actually happens inside of everyone who decides to join this queue; wether they are conscious of it or not. We are growing increasingly impatient to see the Lady of the Mountain, the Black Madonna of Montserrat. Step by step our anticipation grows; we try to read the statues of Saints and the images on the dark chapel ceilings for hints as to tell how far we are off still. We continue to glance ahead to spot the end of the queue which still remains out of sight... Some of us even get claustrophobia and need to leave. There is a strange tightness, a restlessness that overcomes everyone. And still, coupled with it is a slowness, reduction in pace and experience of time that is essential to preparing us for meeting the Lady of the Mountain...

As I was about twenty minutes away from meeting the Lady of the Mountain - of course not knowing it at the time - I received a strong hint to enter into vision. I went into the Void and stepped out on the other side, looking at the structure of the church around both with my physical eyes and in vision. The two sights for nothing alike and still provided the blueprint, the matrix for each other - like two hands holding each other. Ahead of me, slightly raised and to my left, I saw a huge, living pylon of energy building the center of the inner architecture. It resembled a huge wave of translucent energy moving in slow motion. On the side facing myself and the main corpus of the church the energy slowly fell in a powerful but extremely slow motion; on the opposite side it rose upwards again forming a closed cycle of living power. I saw that sparks of energy shot off to all sides, touching on the structures that upheld the power of the inner temple, as well as the long and slow row of pilgrims passing in front of it. Each spark touching the body of a human left a mark - just like a small golden stain on an image that was black and white else-wise. 

This living, revolving shape of power was fed from a source behind it. I directed my vision to follow this lead and found a bridge of power leading out behind the swirling shape of energy. It passed through the outer walls of the church and led out into the open sky. At its end I saw two huge, almond-shaped eyes - glowing translucently with power that emerged from them. The stare of the eyes was intense and piercing, not respecting any boundaries, flowing out of the sky like a swarm of arrows. It was just as blinding as the light I had experienced on the square in front of the church. This was the contact from where the power of this entire site emerged from.

My wife grew increasingly impatient with me. Exploring the structure of the site in vision made me look like a retard standing in the pilgrim’s queue: eyes half closed, leaned against the cold stone wall she had to take my hand and pull me forward whenever we had to move...

Slowly we ascended on several staircases, passed through gates and below golden arches, until we finally saw the Lady in front of us. The queue was pushing up a final steep staircase on top of which the Lady sat behind a class case - looking out into the wide, deep and dark body of the church. In the glass case was a round hole over her right hand where pilgrims were allowed to touch her - not realizing the sparks of divine presence that had touched themselves long before, while approaching the center of power slowly. We passed along her statue and I realized touching her really wasn’t necessary at all to make contact. Being exposed to her sheer presence was more than enough and indeed quite overwhelming.

Coming down the flight of stairs on the other side I discovered the real center of power, the  Holy of Holies of the church. It was an octagonal place, located right behind the statue of the Lady and forming the outermost structure of the church, bordering into the bright mountain sky. I was deeply surprised to see that it was open to visitors as well. You could simply walk in and take a seat - which almost none of the pilgrims did. Eight huge golden angels were guarding the place, holding up the arches of power and stone. Right through the middle of this place led the invisible bridge of power, out into the sky beyond the building. I sat down quietly and deepened my vision. Then I turned around from the statue of the Lady and walked out on the bridge, leaving the building behind me and approaching the contact in the sky. 

What followed was a brief conversation that I can’t share; an exchange of power in return of respect and acknowledgement. It was also a passing on of advise on how to handle significant loads of energy coming from the East and how to transmit them from the inner to the outer plane. These techniques are much more simple than many might expect; yet within their simplicity they hold all the power that easily blows up people, landscapes and whole generations...

On a more practical note, what I also learned about was the actual intent of the divine contact itself. It wasn’t interested in touching the church itself; the sacred geometry of the place simply had been put in-between the inner contact and something else it really aimed to be in touch with... This was the mountain behind the church. The power flowing out of the East was aiming to unite itself with and penetrate deep down into the stone and the earth of the mountain. As so often with sacred places like this one, humans had put an interface on top of an existing exchange of powers that served their needs, filtered the amount of accessible power down to an acceptable level where it could be handled by their own means and spiritual devices. In this case, however, this spiritual architecture didn’t seem to obstruct the contact to the divine being in the East and the mountain itself. Maybe this was because the church fathers who rebuilt this church as recently as in the 20th century had done so with great care of the inner powers they were dealing with - either intuitively or consciously? Or it simply was because the active source of power was so vivid and strong that it just couldn’t be bothered by the feebly structure put in-between itself and the stone of the mountain?

So when you decide to visit the Lady of the Mountain and the church of Montserrat maybe this his helpful context on what to expect? Maybe it also is the exact opposite as it might obstruct the clarity of your own experience and inner vision? In the latter case, hopefully, by the time you get to visit you will have forgotten all details of my own report - simply keeping the anticipation with you that something very special is about to happen as you walk up the stairs to the bright, sunlit square of Montserrat. 

P.S. Thank you, Josephine McCarthy for teaching the wonderful gift of seeing and working in vision through books and advise.  It is unlike anything else.