On Angels' Wings

By Mariana Stjerna

Are you afraid of dying? Do you believe that life ends with your last breath? This book is the story about what happened to the famous Swedish author Jan Fridegård after his passing. Through his spokesperson, Mariana Stjerna, he tells vividly with both humor and seriousness his experiences on “the other side.”

The

• Language: English
• Publisher: SoulLink Publisher
• Release date: Apr 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9789198464825

Mariana Stjerna

Mariana Stjerna ist eine hochangesehene schwedische Seherin und Autorin. Hellseherisch seit ihrer Kindheit, hat sie spirituelle Bücher für Erwachsene und Kinder geschrieben, einschließlich Agartha - Die Welt im Inneren der Erde, Auf Engelsflügeln und The Bible Bluff.

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Third Edition

© 2013, 2017, 2018 Mariana Stjerna and SoulLink Publisher

All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978-91-984648-1-8 (paperback)

ISBN 978-91-984648-0-1 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-91-984648-2-5 (ebook)

Also available on Kindle

First printed in Swedish 1998

Support with translation and publishing: Aaron Rose, USA

Other books in English by Mariana Stjerna:

Time Journey to the Origin and the Future

The Bible Bluff

The Invisible People

Agartha – The Earth’s Inner World

Mission Space

SoulLink Publisher

www.SoulLink.se

[e-mail]

The Cosmic Map

The Map rests on the starry sky. Here you can see the planets and some constellations in our galaxy. For a more detailed description, see the Appendix.

1 Universal Worlds

1a Realms of Darkness

1b Realms of Idols

2 The No Man’s World

2a Soul Transition Realms

3 The Astral World

3a Realm of Healthcare

3b Realm of Schools and Development

3c Realm of Science

3d Realm of Animals

3e Children’s Realm

3f The Akashic Records

3g Realms of Dreams

3h Realms of Music and Beautiful Arts

4 The Nature World

5 Parallel Worlds and Incarnation Worlds

6 The Ethereal World

6a Archangels and Angelic Realm

6b Realm of the Masters (The Great White Brotherhood)

7 World of the Elohim

8 World of the Seraphim (The Inner Core) The Great Spirit

Jan Fridegård (1897-1968) grew up as a farm laborer and tried several professions before the debut of his writings: One Night in July (1933). His autobiographical novel trilogy about Lars Hård is perhaps his finest work. The death of his father aroused a latent interest in the supernatural, which came to be reflected in The Tower Rooster (1941).

Contents

The Cosmic Map

Introduction

1. The Crossing

2. My Joyful Valley

The Akashic Records

3. The Process of Creation

At First Came the Invisible Worlds

The Fall of Lucifer

Yin and Yang – Duality and Polarity

The First Humans – The People of the Sun and the Stars

Zio and the Migration to Earth

4. The Lost Millennium Kingdom

The Tale of Toja

5. The Nine Elders of Sirius

The Reptile People

6. In the Angels’ School

The Dual Flame

7. The No Man’s World

8. The Realms of the Astral World

The Realms of Dreams

The Realm of Music

The Nature World

The Realm of Animals

The Children’s Realm

9. The Midnight Mass

10. The Realm of Beautiful Arts

11. In the Angelic Realm

The Banquet

About Soul Groups and Twin Souls

12. Meeting with the Master Djwal Khul

The Journey to Earth

How to Materialize and Dematerialize

13. Back to Shamballa

My Home Is in the Angelic Realm

14. Disobedience Is Punished

15. The Ashtar Command

Mission North America

About Earthly Emotions and All-Love

My First Pupil

16. Helia and Sananda

The Goddess Helia: The Virgin Mary

An Opportunity to Ask Master Sananda Questions

17. Alien Contact

A Political World Conference Gets a Cosmic Visit

18. About the Aura and the Chakras

19. About Prayer and Meditation

The Prayer of Mother Marta

The Creative Power of Thoughts

20. Who Am I? An Existential Question

Appendix

The Cosmic Map – Explanation and Guidance

The Original Meaning of Colors

List of Diseases and Colors

Books by Mariana Stjerna

Introduction

When I was asked to write this book, I didn’t hesitate for a moment. My spaceborne companion, Jan, wanted to recount his personal experiences after his passing, from the moment of death up until now. He is a spirit with his own authoring history during his last incarnation here in Sweden. He is a happy and humorous person, but he also has profound experiences from the cosmic development. When he suggested that the name of this book would be On Angels’ Wings, I immediately associated this name with a memory from my childhood.

I love watching the sky. Sometimes the clouds are storming in dark flocks, duskily indigo-colored, with violet nuances. Sometimes a clear blue sky shines, covered with fleecy, fluffy, white puffs in enormous patches. When I was a young girl they were called angel wings. I always tried to catch sight of a real angel among the puffs. Sometimes there were gaps filled with light in the big, dark clouds, and then I believed that within there was a sea of light where angels flew around, looking down through the cloud-windows at the silly humans. When they observed all the misery on Earth, they closed up the gaps with the down puffs of their angel wings.

When I asked Jan if he wanted to tell me about Paradise, he laughed heartily and answered, Paradise, as it is perceived by humans, is not at all what you think. Everyone creates his own paradise – or whatever it is – with his thoughts. I intend to start from the beginning, and the beginning for me means the end of my earthly life and the beginning of life before life.

Are you in Paradise? I asked, somewhat naively.

Oh no, not me! he answered. Paradise as you see it doesn’t suit a prankster like me at all. He held up a flaming-red autumn leaf before my astonished eyes.

This is but a small part of a living code, he continued, a living code that can shed its form, but which in turn is a part of eternity. The leaf fades, but still lives in full splendor and beauty, just like us humans. The closeness to Nature that humanity has lost today, is the key to her whole existence. If she loses that key, she will also lose the meaning of her life. She will be trapped in her ego, which will take over her thoughts and actions. She will become a victim of misguided and impure energies. Please let me tell you a story that will be the greatest of all the stories you have heard!

Most humans are not only scared of death, they look upon it as a punishment or something horrifying. My hope is that this book will remove such emotions. No one can prove that what I convey through Jan is the Truth – but can you really talk about proof in this context? Let us be content with the fact that I am fortunate enough to be the spokeswoman for a soul who has given me the information and inspiration to write On Angels’ Wings. Now we are going to listen to Jan’s story – a story that he, himself, will tell you from beginning to end.

– Mariana Stjerna

1. The Crossing

It was a long and laborious step from the gray and poor farm laborer’s cottage to the established and rather wealthy author I had become. As an old man I felt pretty content with my life, especially when I got to bandy words with colleagues and other loose people. I’ve never been afraid to tell the truth, even if the truth sometimes has been afraid of me. The ugly things in life have danced a waltz with the good and beautiful things, and that has suited me well. I have constructed my books in the same way that you build a stone wall: the biggest stones at the bottom and the smaller ones on the top, with some air in between. I have been a noisy person and I have scolded people until the evil weeds have caught fire. To rub people the right way has never been my style and will probably never become so, not even on the other side of the Light portal.

If you think I exaggerate on occasions, then I ask the reader to try to understand me. Here I don’t live on raw herring and potatoes, here our diet is of a different kind, so I mostly try to be moderate. But it is not small potatoes (as we say in Sweden) that this book will deal with, it is something tremendous and quite inconceivable. It is unbelievable and magnificent! We are going to travel in worlds where only one law applies: the Cosmic Law, where the harmonies meet the disharmonies, to be perfected in a minor-major chord of fantastic beauty.

I have described my latest life on Earth in both autobiographical and educational books. But now I am going to tell you about my real life, the life I was born into the moment I breathed my last sigh on Earth.

Now I understand that the miserable life in the farm laborer’s cottages wasn’t as trying and laborious as it seemed to me at the time. I became at one with Nature, as I, day by day, in sunshine and rain, tended my cattle and repaired fences or toiled at the hard soil. I learned to understand all the signs that Nature gave me in such ample amount. The different seasons’ abundance of new impressions and secrets were imprinted in the farm laborer’s open mind, even though he at that point didn’t fully understand the value of the school he resided in.

Mine was the sky – cloudy, clear, or leaden and heavy with rain. Mine was the ground with its riches, even when the snow mercifully hid the deep hibernation of the plants, their struggle for birth, and return to the new spring, to the new, clear light. Mine was the marsh that wetted my tired and dirty feet – friendly in summertime and deceitful in other seasons. The trees were telling me of their fear of being slaughtered by money-mad parasites in human shape – and of their happiness, being able to stretch their crowns towards the sky. Bushes and brushwood told another story of a stinging world, full of hideaways for all sorts of creepy-crawlies. It was wonderful to live at that time, but I didn’t grasp it back then.

Much later I became friends with the poor farm boy in me and defended his right to be human in a society where birds of a feather were far from identical. I learned to accept but also to question – not to swallow hook, line, and sinker. The flowers are always to be found in summertime. They wink and flirt with their flower heads from the ditch-bank, because they know their place. The country road must be free of flowers. There the traffic shall rush by without seeing them. They exist, but they must not disturb the cold, gray stretch of smooth gravel or asphalt. It is the same in life: The flowers are to be found at the side of the road. The question is whether you should take your time to stop and pick some of them, without ruining the wholeness of the landscape. I think it’s necessary that you do so, otherwise life will be transformed into an eternal freeway, without dreams and without beauty.

But now we are going to talk about my birth into a completely different life. I closed my eyes in my earthly life and stepped straight into the next one! That’s what I am going to tell you about, from the first moment of my last breath.

How strange! I was breathing and felt bright and breezy! Yet, I was lying like some kind of graven image in my bed. I looked at myself and wasn’t happy about what I saw. ‘The old man has really aged,’ I thought, ‘and is as ugly as sin!’ Once I was a handsome man … No, I was not, I am!

Where did this certainty come from, that I am what I am – Now? I turned my eyes from the old man Jan in the bed and discovered a thin, shiny, silvery thread running between him and me. ‘Exactly like a dog’s leash,’ I thought, and I laughed out loud. But the man at the other end of the leash didn’t laugh. He was lying there, as if dead. And suddenly I realized that that was exactly what he was: dead! ‘Then who was I? To be sure, I was him before, but now I am him, too!’

Well, occasionally you have read about things like that. Jan’s spirit, that was me! I didn’t feel any different – but I was very curious! Jan was dead – long live Jan!

The dog’s leash was fixed. It is usually called the silver cord. I knew very well that I had to endure it for about three days. After that it would loosen by itself, like the umbilical cord of a newborn baby. In fact, I had read a lot about what happens after death. But now, when I was there myself, in the middle of the unknown, I felt a bit uncertain. What does an Earth human really know about life after this, about life between lives? There are plenty of theories – such I have kept in abundance. But where should I go now? Where was the borderline between theory and knowing?

People came into the room where the dead Jan lay – the dead Jan, who was alive! I recoiled and discovered that the silver cord could be stretched. I went out through the wall, and I thought a bit sarcastically about my book called The Tower Rooster. Would I do the same thing as the old man in the book – mostly hang on the outside of the tower – or would I get to do a longer journey? In that case, how was that to be managed?

A pair of hands clutched mine. I was lifted through walls and roof, and I caught a glimpse of a large entity dressed in white that pulled me with him/her, gently but resolutely. The dog-leash was still there, but I didn’t care, because it obviously could be stretched quite a long way. We flew through the air like in some science-fiction novel. ‘Maybe there was some truth in such novels,’ I thought, who used to write very down-to-earth prose myself. I didn’t see any church towers and neither any landscape, the way you see it from an airplane. Maybe the clouds surrounded us, maybe it was some other fog, because my sight wasn’t clear. It grew dark now, and it felt as if we were going through a tunnel. I closed my eyes. The hands of the unknown entity still clasped mine in a firm grip, and strangely enough, it felt safe and pleasant.

I couldn’t help pondering over what was now happening to the other Jan, the one down on Earth. Was he to be buried in the cold soil or to be consumed by the flames of fire? Maybe it was more pleasant not to know. I decided to leave myself entirely in the hands of this being, who I understood must be an angel. Unless I hadn’t gone astray or down the wrong track, of course! I couldn’t help smiling at that black-edged thought, and at that precise moment we landed. I opened my eyes, slightly afraid of being surrounded by a burning Gehenna. Instead, there was a vast plain where shapes were flashing by – thin and transparent, like vague figures.

‘Oh, I see,’ I thought a bit gloomily, ‘first you get to a kind of preliminary stage of purgatory. After that it’s all downhill, of course. But it probably serves me right!’

Do I look like those? I asked, and pointed at some ghost-like shapes gliding by.

Not at all, answered my winged companion with a smile. You look more like me!

I looked more closely at her. She was dressed in a long, pale garment. She had blond hair that reached her waist. Her large eyes were dark blue, like a summer-night’s sky. She didn’t seem as huge any longer, as I had first imagined. Or perhaps she had shrunk after our swift journey? She wasn’t transparent, but she gave an impression of lightness and litheness. I looked at my hands. They were still my hands, although softer and smoother.

My name is Jolith, and I am your guardian angel, she continued. Jan, your physical body is dead, but you are alive! As long as the silver cord still remains between you and your earthly body, your eyes will be veiled. When it is broken, we will see where your free will leads you. I will remain with you for some time yet, but the day will come when you won’t need me anymore.

Where are you going, then? I wondered curiously.

I will receive new tasks, the angel answered evasively. She still held on to my hand. It felt like a firm grip, as my father used to say. He judged people by their handshake, and he couldn’t be bothered with what he called a woman’s handshake. They feel like dead herrings, was his rather harsh judgment. I experienced an intense longing for him. Why didn’t he meet me here, with his coarse humor and boisterous laughter, to show me around in Heaven? In case this was Heaven, of course. It was a bit too primitive, in my opinion. And a little too foggy. I wasn’t yet entirely sure whether I had ended up in purgatory, which the priests have such a good hang of. Perhaps the priest at home in Uppsala was preaching about purgatory at my funeral right now? It wouldn’t surprise me, when considering how many bad words I have mentioned about priests.

This is only the beginning, Jan, and not the beginning you think, the angel girl said, smiling gently. It will feel different when the cord has come loose. Part of you is still on Earth. This is not what you would call Heaven.

Is there really a Heaven? I asked, a bit mockingly.

There are many! Jolith replied, and it flashed in the depths of her blue sea-eyes. Just wait, and you’ll see!

Facing this bait, I had to surrender. In my entire earthly life I had been curious about what happens after death, and now here I stood completely dead on a foggy plain, holding hands with a beautiful girl, while faceless shadows were gliding past like a shoal of eels, seemingly without a goal in this colorless existence.

Am I going to live here with the shadows? Who are they? I couldn’t help but ask. My angel girl was sweet as candy – her blond hair and rosy cheeks could have been painted by Botticelli. Was I dreaming? Was I really dead? Was this something that you used to call purgatory down on Earth?

No, my friend, she answered my unspoken question. The shadows you see haven’t liberated themselves from their earthly bonds, although their silver cords were loosened long ago. They are Earth-bound souls who are mourning their former existence. Some of them are lost, some of them are discontented and disappointed, and some of them are chained to their own sins and misfortunes. They refuse to move on.

But I want to move on, my beautiful Beatrice! I jested, and my bright companion smiled openly and warmly. We looked at each other in mutual understanding, but suddenly Jolith pricked up her ears. She grabbed my arm and pulled me some distance away. The fog grew denser and rolled itself around us like a thick, grayish-white spiral.

Now you have become free from the silver cord, the angel exclaimed. We can continue now!

That certainly got on fast, I pointed out, Never have three days and nights disappeared so quickly!

Time doesn’t exist here, Jolith objected. Three days and three nights have passed on Earth. Can you understand that? I have been given the signal for us to proceed now. The poor shadows you see here don’t want to listen to their guardian angels. They prefer to wander about, homeless, as vague shapes until they understand that they have their free choice to evolve in a new world. Sometimes they are drawn by their own longing back to Earth. They cannot stay there, but they willingly wander about in the surroundings of their old life perpetually.

Is that what we call ghosts or lost souls? I wondered.

Yes, they are the visible invisible ones, was the answer. They can actually mentally influence humans in the surroundings they choose to ‘haunt,’ whether they appear in dreams or show themselves in some other way. Sometimes the longing and the love for their old environment gives them an influence of positive force, but mostly this influence is negative, due to its own limitation and the fear response from its old surrounding. But now you have to proceed, if you don’t want to stay here among the shadows!

Of course, I didn’t. Nevertheless, it might have been fun to haunt some people I knew: my publisher and some of my old friends. Certainly they stood there at my graveside, hats in hand, and certainly they were drinking at least a couple of funeral feasts in my honor. But of course I was more curious to find out what was waiting for me a bit higher up or further away – whichever it was.

In the cloudy spiral, Jolith started to grow. She took me in her arms, where I rested as on eiderdown. At the same time, it felt as if I was lying in a mother’s womb with labor pains. I was infinitely small and curious about the world outside. Then all became dark for a moment – or for an eternity. Is there any difference in this state?

2. My Joyful Valley

When I awoke, life was smiling at me. Because what else other than life could bring me to such an idyllic place? I wanted to laugh out loud and dance around with my beautiful angel, who again was small and dainty. She smiled and said, Do it! Dance with me!

So we took a turn round on a sun-drenched flowery meadow, where fragrances and music seemed to be one, where the air vibrated with tones enclosing us in a breathlessly lovely embrace. We were as