I spent my twenties and thirties in the 70’s and 80’s working as a computer consultant for several of California’s fast growing high tech companies.  That life took its toll, however, and as my 40^th birthday approached I decided it was time to slow down and enjoy some of life’s more basic values.

In order to help this change along, I moved 90 miles northeast of San Diego to the Coachella valley - the “palm of God’s hand,” as it was once called by its indigenous citizens.  This starkly beautiful desert, held between the arms of the Santa Rosa and little San Bernardino Mountains, has been a healing place for its inhabitants for uncounted centuries.

Then as now, the Palm Springs region hosted many wintering-over snowbirds from January through mid April.  One of them, Geraldine Stringer, a noted Canadian psychic, was the first of many seers to tell me that my “perfect mate” would come into my life at the turn of the century.  None of them ever told me, however, that this mate would come bearing information relevant to a peculiar dream I once had.

Even when it had occurred, many years prior, I could not remember the details, or the “story” of the dream when I awoke, but I was aware that the number “eleven-oh-eight” had been repeated, over and over again.  Subsequently, as the years rolled by, I always watched closely for that number and paid extra attention when each November 8^th arrived, but invariably nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.

I spent a couple of very happy years in the low desert.  Other than occasionally commuting to San Diego to teach some computer classes, I seldom visited any large cities.  As a respite from the fast pace of the world I had known, this period was everything that it should have been.  During this time I also met more members of my “soul family,” sisters and teachers all.  One of them, Carollee, actually said that she was working on Ascension.  That was the first time I had ever heard of such an idea.  I could not wrap my mind around that idea then and never thought about it after I left the desert to go back to graduate school in Michigan.  There would be much that I would miss about this place and these people, but this loss was somewhat offset, however, by the fact that I was moving to Ann Arbor, one of the loveliest small towns in America. 

My student apartment was tiny, but it opened out onto a balcony floating in the green arms of tightly intertwining trees.  My Buddhist landlord was accommodating, my Sufi neighbor was quiet, and the charm of the place more than compensated for its lack of storage space.  I simply converted the miniscule bedroom into a walk-in closet and slept on the futon sofa.

In August of 1995 I pulled my luggage into the middle of the living room floor and began packing for a visit to my California family.  I had just folded the last tee-shirt when I looked up to see, of all things, a freshly beheaded and still bleeding pigeon lying on the deck just outside the sliding glass door.  I stood up, mouth agape, headed toward the door, and then froze.

There, perched in the exact center of the redwood rail, directly above the corpse and looking quite bored with her kill, was the small falcon that had brought it down.  She was still presiding over that spot as I left to catch the plane. I felt as though I had received an immense honor, and knew that I should be prepared to pay close attention to the events of my trip. 

I planned to stay with my friend Judy on that first night back in the Coachella Valley.  It was great to see her again, and to spend time in the beautiful southwestern style home where I had lived in the last months before moving to Michigan.  The next afternoon, a group of us were to drive “up the hill” to the mountain town of Idyllwild. 

We were having coffee by the pool in the morning when our friend, Pu, breezed in carrying the morning’s mail.  Pu selected a postcard from among the stack of envelopes and handed it to me, saying, “This one’s for you.”  I thought she was joking.  It had been more than two years since I had left California and changed my mailing address.

The picture on the card was entrancing. 

Looking closely, I could see the faces of many different Beings emerge from the continents and the seas.  I thought of them as the many aspects of the Great Spirit, and my heart was lifted by the message printed across the bottom:  “The Vision: A Beginning.” 

The printed inscription entitled ‘Guardians of the Great Mother," on the address side has a quote from Chief Seattle,

"The Earth does not belong to us, we belong to the earth. We do not weave the web of life - we are merely a strand in it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves."

Very apropos to the picture, I thought, but I was still mystified about the author of the card.  Who might send me this particular card, at this out-of-date address, and time it to arrive on this particular Saturday?  Who would know so much about my plans?

The handwritten message - “Jan, I hope you enjoy this card.  What do you see in the picture?  I’ll speak with you soon.  Regards, Art.” - was cryptic enough, but it offered no clue.   I picked up the card repeatedly, puzzling over it each time.  And, I knew no one by the name of Art.

Somewhat later, Judy answered a phone call, turned and handed the receiver to me, and said, “It’s Art.”

I’m sure I must have looked completely dumbfounded at that point.  I know I was speechless as I took the telephone.

“This is Art,” he said, as if I should know who he was.  “Did I get the postcard?”

When I said yes, his next question was, “Do you feel like you understand the message?”  Followed by, “Would you be willing to support a movie about this subject?”

Aha!  Now I understood that the postcard and phone call were nothing more than an elaborate (and VERY good!) market research program, gleaning public feedback and investors at the same time.  No doubt, Judy’s upscale address had been taken from some outdated commercial mailing list. 

Nonetheless, I assured Art that I would be most interested in seeing such a movie, and asked to him to send an investment prospectus to my Ann Arbor address.    He did not sound extremely diligent about taking down my new address, nor did he seem appropriately astounded by the coincidence of actually reaching me, on that day and in that place, but my curiosity was at least satisfied.

At any rate, the synchronicity of these events was memorable, and the card is still magical to me.  But although I kept it on my refrigerator for many years, I had packed it away by the time Johnny quite literally walked into my life. 

Weeks later, as I listened to him talk about the Harmonic Concordance chart, the meaning of that long-ago “eleven-oh-eight” dream became abundantly clear.  In the months and years since that first conversation, we have spent many hours talking about the ideas represented by the planetary energies of that moment.

One day one of these discussions inspired me to dig out “The Vision” postcard and share it with him.  Looking at it, we realized that the picture offers a powerful representation of the ascended Earth that exists one dimension over. In addition to that, we were amazed to note that several details on the reverse side of the card seemed to be oddly foreshadowing of events in our lives.  For example, we bought our home from a family named Maloof (the name one of the creators of the card) and ART is the name we use for our relationship counseling work, standing for Ascended Relationship Technologies.

Here in the oasis, (truly an Eden) we are in the highly privileged position of being able to see this vision manifested in our surroundings every day.  At the same time, we have noted that Ascension is the topic of many different websites, discussion groups, and webrings and more of these are emerging every day.  These events and recent signs and synchronicities are now indicting that it is time to share this story with others who may be co-creating from the same energetic fields. 

Rumor has it that Norma Milanovich’s Arcturian guides have overseen the scripting of a movie taken from material in The Arcturian Connection.  Is it only coincidental that much of this material is of an ascensional nature and would lend itself well to being expressed in the visual style of the postcard?  Additionally, we hear that the release of this movie has been specifically orchestrated for the late summer of this year.   Does this mean that it has a role to play in educating the public about the Harmonic Concordance?  Does the arrival of this postcard on August 5, eight years prior to that time, have any relationship to either event?

Who can say?  If another chapter in this story should develop, we will be certain to share it with you.  If you have had a dream, or have received guidance of your own about the Harmonic Concordance, we would love to hear about it.  If you don’t want to write about it, e-mail us your phone number and we will call you back.