On Becoming Master of Time and Space

By Victor Pierobon

I wrote this book based on a variety of very short random waking and lucid experiences spanning many years. From the original publication year 2004 (under the title “Just-a-Position, On Becoming Master of Time and Space”). The web editions were done after 2014 so I revised my comments i.e. “Comments on [Chapter Title]”. These random pre-2004 experiences had to be sorted into a logical timeline to make some sense out of them. There are 5 entirely fictitious chapters (Dear Death, Dear God, End Notes, The Drive, The Battle of the Brain Hemispheres) that were created to weave a story and a conclusion for this book. Some of the more perplexing chapters have my afterthoughts under “Comments on [Chapter Title]” to make them comprehensible. You can find the original version of this book at the Library and Archives Canada in case you are curious about what I have changed since 2005.
The drawing depicting a man in a lotus position with a long wooden stick inserted under his outreached arm’s skin was drawn by me in 1966 at age 18, done after 3 years of practice. I drew it after realizing that my practice must not be used for self’s will. To become more divinely aware of God’s will one must forever abide solely by His Will and help others. The book is a sober realization that any “master of time and space” must entirely surrender one’s will to God’s Will by “listening to God, as a co-creator son of God. The other drawings for some of the chapters were quickly drawn in pencil by me to depict the scene or mood of the experience.
I am sorry that the first two chapters are a bit gruesome. The rest are not gruesome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victor Pierobon
• Release date: Oct 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370731459

Victor Pierobon

A lifelong interest in religion, science and extensive spiritual exercises, and the study of many belief systems from age 15. Retired software Architect, CIO, developer, and other related science and technology careers mainly as a contract consultant/company servicing the Ontario Government.One international wireless peer-to-peer mesh technology patent, one single board computer design and manufacturing, some software packages, and some building architectural work.Computer College Professor for almost two years.Education: Bachelor of Science and Education Degree.Hobbies Classical Guitar, music, and art.Canadian and resident in Toronto.

Book preview

Introduction

I don’t know how to class my book. In general, it is a science fiction book. But underneath it, I would say that it is a book on spiritual evolution for a soul, going through many incarnations into the end of time. It is not a DIY how-to book on really becoming a master of anything. The contents have been mainly derived from non-fictional events. I wrote this book based on a variety of very short random waking and lucid experiences spanning many years. From the original publication year 2004 (under the title Just-a-Position, On Becoming Master of Time and Space). The web editions were done after 2014 so I revised my comments i.e. Comments on [Chapter Title]. These random pre-2004 experiences had to be sorted into a logical timeline to make some sense out of them. There are 5 entirely fictitious chapters (Dear Death, Dear God, End Notes, The Drive, The Battle of the Brain Hemispheres) that were created to weave a story and a conclusion for this book. Some of the more perplexing chapters have my afterthoughts under Comments on [Chapter Title] to make them comprehensible. You can find the original version of this book at the Library and Archives Canada in case you are curious about what I have changed since 2005.

The drawing depicting a man in a lotus position with a long wooden stick inserted under his outreached arm’s skin was drawn by me in 1966 at age 18, done after 3 years of practice. I drew it after realizing that my practice must not be used for self’s will. To become more divinely aware of God’s will one must forever abide solely by His Will and help others. The book is a sober realization that any "master of time and space must entirely surrender one’s will to God’s Will by listening to God, as a co-creator son of God. The other drawings for some of the chapters were quickly drawn in pencil by me to depict the scene or mood of the experience.

I am sorry that the first two chapters are a bit gruesome. The rest are not gruesome.

Part I – The Best of Days

Genesis 3:21:"The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever."

Chapter 1 Martyrdom

Matthew 11:28-30: For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Author: If suffering was a prerequisite to sainthood, all the beasts of burden would be in heaven.

I didn’t expect to die for my beliefs.

Our religious order met in a small town just outside Constantinople in the middle of the 5th century A.D. We were all fairly well educated, but generally a financially poor religious group. We, even at that time, had access to eastern sources of knowledge, which we informally incorporated into our early Christian worship. Some of the members’ ancestors had actually met and witnessed Christ.

We fervently worshiped as a group and on our own. We chanted, swayed, and prayed in the mode of those days. We ate, exercised, and meditated to enable us to focus our internal listening to God daily, in our morning and midnight meditations.

The more conservative Christians were more concerned in establishing a materially viable religion with officers, bishops, and priests, able to implement a religious force against the older Greek, Jewish, Roman, and other pagan religions. Although this was a Christian organization, it took on the characteristics of an efficient Roman Empire’s control and power. The Roman Church, like Rome in the past, did not like to see any weakness in their chain of command or any schism of beliefs among Christians.

One afternoon, a group of armed men broke into our meeting, quickly tied us up, and threw us on a horse-drawn wagon. They gathered a dozen of us - eight were women. We did not look like a prize catch - being poorly dressed and meek-looking. We, of course, were confused. We never expected this to happen. As we were being moved to prison, we pondered on who turned us in - perhaps one of those recent new members that came to listen to our beliefs. Now and then in our modest mud-brick meeting room, someone would ramble on what they thought Christianity was all about. That last nonsensical rambling misrepresentation by some unbalanced member must have irritated someone enough to report our heresy.

They delivered us to Constantinople that evening; it was too dark and confusing for me to remember what happened in any detail.

I woke up in the company of my Elder in the same jail. I asked what he thought was the situation.

Not good, I believe that they are going to make examples of us, probably will severely punish us in public, to show that the Church will not tolerate eastern-like beliefs in their doctrine.

Do you think they are angry at us for not tithing? Most of us are horribly poor. Don’t they know that? They saw our meeting place… and our clothes! For what benefit can we be to them? …Why is God doing this to us…?, I asked Peter the Elder.

Hermes, I can’t understand why they would even take our women members. We have kept to ourselves, in peace, making our pots to sell, and harvesting our garden for our sustenance. We didn’t write or distribute any controversial material that could offend the Church. We should all pray for courage for our members.

Peter, is this the valley of our death? Are we going to live through this? Maybe I can deny our beliefs? It does not matter to me what they believe me to be or how they judge me!

Remember… what happens is God’s will and decree. We must be true to ourselves; we must not deny our faith. Let us not lie and denounce our allegiance to our God. God will surely punish us again in other ways later on.

I started to become weak kneed. I didn’t care about the particulars of our beliefs versus the official doctrines. The situation was hopeless. I didn’t think just a last minute repentance to the officials would save me from being punished.

Hermes, please don’t cry. Your looks are showing your lack of faith. Joseph, a fellow follower, sensed my weakness. He was an old man, expecting to die in a few years anyway, but I was in my twenties! Joseph thought that being martyred, even by Christians was good.

Out of desperation, I looked out of the little holes made with hollow bamboo reeds mortared in the walls, allowing light to shine through. I could see the outline of the city walls, the sky on the horizon, and across to another building’s wall obstructing the rest of the view. None of the people passing by glanced towards us. Why should they, after all, only evil people are imprisoned. Their indifference made me think of my own. Was this the retribution that many eastern religions speak about?

The men and women were separated into two cells. One of the women, Mary, was visibly pregnant. Surely they should let Mary leave. I yelled out, Anyone there, Mary?

Mary and the other women are with me., said Martha. I guess Martha was the only one wanting to speak out loud. I sensed that most of them were too frightened to raise their voices.

I fell asleep wondering what particular meeting or action caused this.

I finally fell asleep but was soon awakened up by the sound of footsteps.

The sound came from the jailer as he descended down the stairs. A knot rolled up inside the pit of my stomach. The jailer was an elderly man. His clothes were brown, worn, and ragged, but not ragged enough to disrespect his authority. He walked down, descended like a mist of death, down the dusty steps, brushing his cloak against the aged blood stained streaked walls. It looked like he did this many times before for other prisoners.

He stopped as soon as he reached our floor, looked around, and coughed a few times to clear his throat. He shuffled his feet as if to get a better grip, straightened his back, and began:

You have all been accused of preaching beliefs divisive to the Church’s true doctrine. You will be executed by this time tomorrow. A blade will be dropped on you. he grunted in a deep voice.

He paused, sensing our shock, in the sudden quiet air. He did not want to look around to see us. Part of him hated his duties; part of him justified this act as an act of pious judgment and was honored to be God’s spokesman.

Death will be by the blade. You will stand in a fisherman’s basket, if you move from the spot, you’ll suffer a horrible end; the blade will come down cutting your side off, your shoulder, your legs and you’ll just drop and bleed slowly to death. Worse still, you may see your guts spill out, and live for a few minutes in horror and pain. If you stand still, the blade will cut you neatly in half from head to groin. You’ll die instantly without pain.

There was a pause, and a sense of undeniable destiny, like being hit by the frigid cold breeze of truth.

You can confess, deny your infidel beliefs, and beg for clemency. But your schism deserves this sentence. You are not Christians; you are violating and blaspheming the Holy Church! May God have mercy on your soul!

Peter looked at me, holding his hands facing up to receive the blessing of God at this trying time, this test of faith. I was looking inwards into my soul, pretending to look to God, but was crumbling inside.

Mary’s with child! Don’t let her innocent child suffer our fate., Martha shrieked.

The jailer paused on his exit, upon hearing this, but continued up the stairs to his superiors.

The method of execution was very severe. To use a fisherman’s basket was cruel, since the founding apostle, Peter was a fisherman. The basket is loosely woven, using palm branches, leaving holes for the blood and other fluids to drain through.