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I Am Ramtha I am Ramtha, "the Ram". In the ancient language of my times, it means "the god". I am the great Ram of the Hindu people, for I was the first man born of the womb of woman and the loins of man who ever ascended from this plane. I learned how to ascend, not through the teachings of any man, but through the profound realization that God lives in everything. I was also a man who hated and despised, who slew and conquered and ruled - right into my enlightenment. I was the first conqueror this plane knew. I began a march that lasted 63 years, and I conquered three-quarters of the known world. But my greatest conquest was of myself. When I learned to love myself and embrace the whole of life, I ascended with the wind into forever. I ascended in front of my people on the northeast side of the mount called Indus. My people, who numbered more than two million, were a mixture of Lemurians, people from Ionia, and tribes people escaping from Atlatia, the land you all Atlantis. My people's lineage now makes up the populace of India, Tibet, Nepal, and southern Mongolia. I lived but one lifetime upon this plane, what is called in your understanding of time, 35,000 years ago. I was born to an unfortunate people, pilgrims from the land called Lemuria living in the slums of Onai, the greatest port city of Atlatia in its southern sphere. I cam to Atlatia during what is called "the last hundred years, "before great waters covered its land. At that time, Atlatia was a civilization of people with great intellect, whose endowment for scientific understanding was superb. Their science was even greater than what you have at this time, for the Atlatians had begun to understand and use the principles of light. They knew how to transform light into pure energy. They even had primitive aeroships that traveled on light, a science provided to them through intercommunication with entities from other star systems. Because of the Atlatians' great involvement with technology, they worshiped the intellect, and it became their religion. The Lemurians were quite different from the Atlatians. Their social system was built upon communication through thought. They had not the advancement of technology, only a great spiritual understanding, for my forefathers were grand in their knowingness of unseen values. They revered that which was beyond the moon, beyond the stars. They loved an essence that could not be identified, a power they called the Unknown God. Because the Lemurians worshiped only this God, the Atlatians despised them, for they despised anything that was not "progressive". When I was a little boy, life was destitute and very arduous. At that particular point in time, Atlatia had lost its technology, for its scientific centers in the north had been destroyed long ago. In their experiments with traveling on light, the Atlatians had pierced the cloud cover that completely surrounded your planet, much as it surrounds Venus today. When they pierced the cloud cover, great waters fell and a freeze occurred, which put most of Lemuria and the northern part of Atlatia under deep oceans. Thus the people from Lemuria and the north of Atlatia fled to the southern regions of Atlatia. Once technology was lost in the north, life gradually became primitive in the south. During the hundred years before all of Atlatia was submerged, the southernmost region has degenerated into the rule of tyrants who governed the people through irrefutable law. Under the abominable rule of these tyrants, the Lemurians were considered the dung of the earth, less than a dog in the street. Contemplate for a moment being spat upon, urinated upon, and allowed to wash it away only with your tears. Contemplate knowing that the dogs in the streets have greater nourishment than you, who hunger for anything to kill the agony in your belly. In the streets of Onai, it was common to see the brutalization of children and the beating and rape of women. It was common to see Atlatians pass a starving Lemurian on the road and hold their noses with kerchiefs of fine linen, dipped in jasmine and rose water, for we were considered stinking, wretched things. We were "no-things, soulless, mindless wastes of intellect" because we were without the scientific understanding of such things as gases and light. Because we did not possess an intellectual bent, as it were, we were turned into slaves to work the fields. Into such a life I was born upon this plane. That was my time. What sort of dream was I in? The beginning of man's advent into the arrogance and stupidity of intellect. I did not blame my mother that I did not know who my father was. I did not blame my brother that our fathers were not the same. Nor did I blame my mother for our absolute poverty. As a little boy, I watched as my mother was taken into the streets and had her sweetness taken from her. After my mother was taken, I watched a child grow inside her belly. And I watched my mother weep, for would there be another child to suffer as we had suffered in this "promised land?" Because my mother was too weak to bear the child alone, I helped her give birth to my little sister. I scrounged in the streets for food, killed dogs and wildfowl, and stole grain from proprietors late in the evening, for I was very deft on my feet. I fed my mother, who in turn suckled my little sister. I did not blame my little sister for the death of my beloved mother, for the little girl suckled away all of my mother's strength. My sister became diarrhetic and could not hold what was going into her body; and so she too lost all the life in her body. I gathered together some timbers and laid my mother and sister on top of them. Then I stole away into the night to gather fire. I said a prayer to my mother and my sister, whom I loved greatly. Then I lit the timbers swiftly so that the stench from their bodies would not disturb the Atlatians, for if it did, the Atlatians would fling their bodies into the desert where the hyenas would tear them apart. As I watched my mother and sister burn, my hatred for the Atlatians increased within my being to where it became like venom from a great viper - and I was only a little boy! As the stench and smoke from the fire spread throughout the valley, I thought about the Unknown God of my people. I could not understand the injustice of this great God, or why he would create the monsters who hated my people so. What did my mother and little sister ever do to deserve the wretched deaths they experienced? I did not blame the Unknown God for not loving me. I did not blame him for not loving my people. I did not blame him for the deaths of my mother and my sister. I did not blame him - I hated him. I had no one left, for my brother had been kidnapped by a satrap and taken into subserviency to the land that would later be called Persia. There he would be abused for the pleasure of the satrap and his need for what is called loin gratification. I was a lad of 14 with no meat upon my bones but a great bitterness inside me. So I decided to do battle with the Unknown God of my forefathers, the only thing I felt worthy of dying by. I was determined to die, but as an honorable man, and I felt that dying at the hands of man was a dishonorable way to perish. I saw a great and mysterious mountain that loomed on the distant horizon. I thought if there were a God, he would live there, above us all, just as those who governed our land lived above us. If I could climb there, I thought, I would get in touch with the Unknown God and proclaim my hatred for him at his unfairness to my people. I left my hovel and journeyed for many days to reach this great mountain, devouring locusts, ants, and roots along the way. When I reached the mount, I climbed into the clouds, which now veiled its whitened peak. I called out to the Unknown God, "I am a man! Why have I not the dignity of one?" And I demanded that he show me his face ... but he ignored me. I fell upon my hunches and wept heartily, until the whiteness iced itself from my tears. When I looked up, I beheld before me what seemed to be a wondrous woman holding a great sword. She spoke to me saying, "O Ram, you who are broken in spirit, your prayers have been heard. Take this sword and conquer yourself." And in but a blink of my eye she was gone. Conquer myself? I could not turn the blade around and hack off my own head - my arms could not reach the hilt of the sword! Yet I found honor in this great sword. No longer did I shiver against the great cold but found warmth instead. And when I looked again where my tears had fallen, there grew a flower of such sweet aroma and color that I knew it was a bloom of hope. I cam down from the mountain with the great sword in my hand, a day recorded in the history of the Hindu people as The Terrible Day of the Ram. A boy had gone to that mountain, but a man returned. No longer frail in body, I was a Ram in every sense of the word. I was a young man with a terrible light about me and a sword larger than I was. Sometimes I think I was very slow to understand in that existence, for I never really questioned how the wondrous sword could be so light that I could carry it, yet so large that nine hands together could hold the hilt of it. I returned from the mountain to the city of Onai. In the fields outside the city I saw an old woman stand up and shade her eyes to look at me a-coming. Soon, all stopped their labors. Carts stopped. Donkeys squealed. Then everything became quiet. When the people looked upon my countenance, they must have been deeply moved, because each immediately took up his meager tool and followed me into the city. We destroyed Onai because the Atlatians spat in my eye when I demanded they open the granaries to feed our people. And they were easily overtaken, for they did not know of battle. I opened the granaries to our poor people, then we slew the Atlatians and burned Onai to the ground. I never considered whether I could do that, for I did not care at that point if I lived or died; I had nothing left to live for. When the slaughter and burning were finished, a great hurt was still within my being, for my hatred had not been satisfied. So I ran from the people to hide in the hills, but they followed me - in spite of all my cursing, throwing stones, and spitting at them. "Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram" they canted, carrying their tools of the filed and grain tied in linens, and herding sheep and goats before them. I shouted at the people to leave me alone and go home, but still they came - for they no longer had a home! I was their home! Since they insisted on following wherever I went, I gathered together all these "soulless" creatures of different denominations, and they became my army, my people. And great people were they indeed. But soldiers? Hardly. Nonetheless, that was when the great army of the Ram assembled itself. Its number in the beginning was close to ten thousand. From that time, I was driven to slay tyranny and to make the color of my skin more respectable. And from all the sieges and battles we put forth, the lands we crossed, and all the people we freed along the way, greatly did my people grow ... and great became the legend of the Ram and his army. For the next 10 years, I was a driven entity, a barbarian who despised the tyranny of men. I fought fully expecting to die. I did not have the fear of dying that many of my people did - because I wanted to die, honorably. So I never knew fear, I knew only hate. When you lead a charge and you're the one in front, with no one on either side of you, you have to be crazed, filled with the powerful emotion called hate. So I was very much a spectacle to be hewn down by my foes (if they would only do me the honor). And I picked the worthiest opponents to be my demise. But you know, when there is an absence of fear, there is a presence of conquering. Thus, I became a great conqueror. Before my time there was no such thing as a conqueror, only tyrants. I created war. I was the first conqueror this plane ever knew. Through my anger and my desire to be noble and to honor what I felt, I became what you would term a great entity. Know you what a hero is? Well, I was one indeed. The hero salvages life and puts an end to the wrongs of life, not realizing that in doing so, he is also creating a wrong. I desired to do battle with all forms of tyranny. And I did - only to become the very thing I despised. I was an ignorant entity, an imbecile, a buffoon. And for 10 years into my march, I warred upon innocents and hacked and burned my way across many lands - until I was run through with a great sword. Had they left it in me, I might have been all right, but they pulled it out to make sure I would bleed to death. I fell face downward onto the floor. As I lay on the snowy marbled floor - that seemingly was perfect - I saw that the river of scarlet had found a crack in it. As I lay there, watching life ebbing from my being, I heard a voice. It spoke to me, and it said, "Stand up". It repeated, "Stand up!" I lifted up my head and put forth my palms. Then I began to draw under me the knees of my being. As I raised my body so that my head was erect and even, I pulled up my left foot and stabilized it. Then, gathering all of my strength, I put my hand upon my knee, my fist into my wound ... and I stood up. As I stood there, with blood issuing from my mouth, flowing from my wound, and running down my legs, my assailants, who were now certain that I was immortal, fled from me. My soldiers laid siege to the city and burned it to the ground. I would never forget the voice that made me stand up, that kept me from dying. In the years to come I would search for the face of that voice. I was given to the court of women in my march to be cared for. And it was, indeed, a most humiliating experience, for I was bossed by the women and undressed before their eyes. I could not even urinate or spill dung from my anus in private, but had to do it in front of them. And I had to endure the stinking poultices of vulture grease that were put upon my chest (I am convinced that the vulture grease was used not because it could heal me, but because it was so wretched to breathe that it kept life in me). During my healing, much of my pride and hate had to give way to survival. While I was recovering from my ghastly wound and couldn't do anything else, I began to contemplate everything around me. One day I watched an old woman pass from this plane, clutching the crudely woven linen she had made for her sun, who had perished long ago. As I watched the old woman begin to shrivel in the light of the noonday sun, her mouth opened to an aghast expression and her eyes became glazed, unaffected by the light. Nothing moved save the breeze and her old hair. I thought about the great intelligence of the woman and her son, who had now both perished. Then I looked back at the sun, which never perished. It was the very same sun the old woman had seen through a crack in the roof of her hovel when she first opened her eyes as a babe ... and it was the last thing she saw when she died. I looked again at the sun. You know, it was oblivious that she had died. And I watched it as my men buried the old woman under a tall poplar tree by the river. As the sun set that evening, I cursed it. I watched it sit upon the mantle of the mountains like a fiery jewel. I looked upon the purpled mountains and the valley, already shrouded in the mist, and saw rods of the sun's light gild all things and make them illusionarily beautiful. I saw clouds, once the color of blue, become vividly alive in hues of scarlet, fire-rose, and pink. I watched the great light as it retired behind the mountains, now looming on the horizon like piercing teeth. Just as the last rods of the sun's beauty gave way to the advancing night. I heard a night bird cry above me, and I looked into the heavens to see a pale moon rising against a darkening sky. A breeze came up, and it blew my hair and dried my tears, and I felt a terrible sickness in my being. You know, I was a great warrior. With a sword I could cleave a man in half in a moment. I had beheaded, I hacked, and butchered. i had smelled blood and burned people. But why did I do all of that? The sun set in its magnificence anyway. The bird cried in the night, anyway. And the moon came up in spite of it all. That is when I began to ponder the Unknown God. The only thing I truly wanted, was to understand this unseen essence that seemed so awesome, so mysterious, so very far away from man. And what was man? Why was he not greater than the sun? Why was man - the teeming multitude upon the plane, the creating force - seemingly the most vulnerable of all creations? If man was as important as my people acclaimed, why wasn't he important enough that when he died, the sun stood still to mourn his passing? Or the moon turned purple? Or the fowl ceased to fly? Man seemed very unimportant, for everything continued on in spite of his peril. All I wanted was to know. I did not have a teacher to teach me of the Unknown God, for I did not trust any man. I had seen and lost so much through the wickedness of man. I had seen men despise other men and think them to be soulless. I had seen innocents gutted and burned out of fear. I had seen children, naked on slave blocks, examined by perverted souls who plucked from the children their hairs of adolescence so they would still have the image of young children as they were raped. I had seen priests and prophets invent, through their hatred for mankind, creatures of great torment and ugliness, so they could govern and enslave people through the rule of religious forms. No man living would I have as my teacher, for any man living had altered thinking - had taken that which was pure and innocent, and altered it through his own limited understanding. So I wanted nothing to do with a god created through man's understanding, for if man created god, the god was fallible. It was life's elements that taught me of the Unknown God. I learned from days. I learned from nights. I learned from tender, insignificant life that abounded even in the face of destruction and war. I contemplated the sun in its advent of glory upon the horizon. I watched its journey through the heavens, ending up in the western sphere and passing into its sleep. I learned that the sun, though mute, subtly controlled life; for all who were warring with one another, ceased their warring when the sun went down. I watched the beauty of the moon in her pale light as she danced across the heavens, illuminating the darkness in mysterious and wonderful ways. I saw how the fires from our encampment lit up the evening sky. I listened to wildfowl landing on the water, birds rustling in their night nest, and children in their laughter. I observed falling stars, nightingales, the frost on the reeds, and the lake silvered with ice to create the illusion of another world. I observed women standing in the river as they gathered water in their urns, their clothing tied up in knots to reveal their alabaster knees. I listened to the clatter of their gossip and the teasing in their laughter. I smelled the smoke from distant fires and the garlic and wine on the breath of my men. It was not until I observed and pondered life and its ongoingness, that I discovered who the Unknown God truly was. I reasoned that the Unknown God was not the gods created through the altered thinking of man. I realized that the gods in men's minds are only the personalities of the things they fear and respect the most; that the true God is the ongoing essence that permits man to create and play out his illusions however he chooses, and that will still be there when man returns yet again, another spring, another life. I realized that it is in the power and the ongoingness of the Life Force where the Unknown God truly lies. Who was the Unknown God? It was me ... and the birds in their night nest, the frost on the reeds, the morning dawn and evening sky. It was the sun and the moon, children and their laughter, alabaster knees and running water, and the smell of garlic and leather and brass. This understanding took a long time for me to grasp, though it had been right in front of me all along. The Unknown God wasn't beyond the moon or the sun - it was all around me! With this new birth of reasoning I began to embrace life, to hold life dear to me, and to find a reason to live. I had realized that was more than blood, death, and the stench of war; there was Life - far greater than we had ever perceived it to be. It was through this realization that I would understand in the years to come, that man is the greatest of all things; and that the only reason the sun is ongoing while man dies, is that the sun never contemplates death. All it knows ... is to be. When I realized through contemplation who the Unknown God was, I did not wish to wither and die as the old woman had died. There must be a way, I thought, to be as ongoing as the sun. As I continued to heal from the dire wound to my body, I had little to do but sit upon a plateau and watch my army grow fat and lazy. One day, as I looked to the horizon to see the vague outline of ghostly mountains and valleys yet uncharted, I wondered what it would be like to be the Unknown God, the Life Force. How could i become that ongoing essence? That is when the wind played a jest upon me and insulted me beyond my tolerance. It blew up my cloak, which was long and regal, and dumped it on top of my head. Not a very noble position for a conqueror! Then the wind caused a wonderful pillar of saffron-colored dust to form a column beside me, all the way up into the heavens. When I was not paying enough attention, the wind ceased, allowing gall the dust to fall upon me. Then the wind went whistling down the canyon, down to where the river flowed, and on through the wonderful olive orchards, turning the leaves from emerald to silver. And it blew a beautiful maiden's skirt up around her waist - with all the giggling that went on from that. And then it blew the hat from a little child's head, and the child went racing after it, laughing gleefully. I demanded that the wind come back to me, but it only laughed in its gales in the canyon. Then, when I was blue in the face form shouting orders, I sat back down upon my haunches ... and it came and blew in my face, softly. "That is freedom!" No man living would I ever have as my ideal. But as I observed the wind, it presented itself as a wondrous ideal for me. For you cannot see the wind, yet whenever it comes upon you in a fury, you are assailed. And no matter how grand and powerful you are, you cannot declare war upon the wind. What can you do to it? Cleave it with your broadsword? Spit upon it? It will only throw it back into your face. What else could one be, I thought, that would give him such power; that could never be captivated by the limited nature of man; that would permit him to be in all places at all times; and unlike man, that would never die? To me, the wind was an ultimate essence, for it is magical, exploratory, and adventurous; it is ongoing, free-moving, with neither boundaries nor form. That, indeed is the closest resemblance there is to the God-essence of life. And the wind never judges man. The wind never forsakes man. The wind, if you call it, will come to you ... through love. Ideas should be like that. So I desired to become the wind. And I contemplated it for years and years. That was what all my thought were bent on becoming. I contemplated the wind and aligned myself with its elusiveness and lightness and indefinable contours. And through contemplating my becoming the wind, it was the wind that I became. The first occurrence was not until six years after I had been run through. Every evening during that time, I would sit upon a plateau, gaze into the sky, and contemplate the wind. And there came a day, much to my surprise, when I found myself aloft in the heavens as the wind. In but a moment I realized that I was far away from my simple speck of a body down on the plateau. When I looked down upon my embodiment, I felt fear for the first time since I had been run through. It was fear that brought me back into the body. I opened my eyes to a cold-hot sweat over the realization that I had been outside the prison of my embodiment. I was in paradise, for I was sure that I had become the wind. I flung myself to the ground and praised God - the Source, the Power, the Cause, the Wind. Never would I forget that splendid moment when I first became the grace and beauty and bountiful life of the wind. I reasoned that what allowed me to become my ideal was my utter determination, always holding clear in thought the vision of what I wanted to become. The next even, I sat upon my rock, contemplated the wind with exuberant joy, and I became ... nothing. I tried again and again and again. I knew that my experience was not simply imagination, for I had indeed seen a different perspective. I knew I had been in the air as a dove or a hawk, and had seen my pitiful self below me. Nothing did I want, nothing did I desire, except becoming that freedom once again. But no matter how hard I struggled and how much sweat broke out upon my body (and how much cursing followed thereafter), I didn't go anywhere. I stayed right where I was. It was two years in your time-reckoning before I became the wind again. This time it happened, not upon contemplating the wind, but upon going into a restful sleep. Before retiring, I had praised the Source, the sun, the moon, the stars, saffron dust, the sweet smells of jasmine - I praised them all! And ere I closed my lids, I was in the heavens again as the wind! In time, I perfected the ability to leave my body. But it took an occurrence for me to understand how to go places. One day, I saw that one of my men had come into a most perilous situation. He had fallen from his horse, but his foot remained lodged in a stirrup. The moment I put my thought with him, I was with him, and I released his heel. I stood over him and wished him well, but he thought I was a dream. I learned to travel in a moment after that, for I learned that wherever thought is, so is the thinker. And how did I conquer thereafter? I was an awesome foe, for I knew my enemies' thinking; thus I outwitted them all! No longer did I overthrow kingdoms; I let them overthrow themselves. For many years I traveled in thought into other kingdoms and to other entities. And I visited civilizations in the birth of their future and lives yet unseen. Slowly, over many years, as the thought of my ideal became the very life-force in my body, my soul gradually increased the vibratory rate within every cell. My desire was that strong! The more I identified with the wind, the more that feeling carried through my entire physical arrangement, until I became lighter and lighter and lighter. People would look at me and say, "There is a glow about the master!" There as! For my body was vibrating at a faster rate of speed - going from the speed of matter into the speed of light. In time, my body became fainter and fainter by the light of the moon. Then, one night, I became where the moon was! No longer did I simply travel in thought; I had raised my bodily vibrations into light, and had taken my entire embodiment with me. I was gleeful and mirthful, for what I had done was unheard of! Yet I came back - but only to see if I could do it again. And I did - 63 times before my final ascension. When I became the wind, I realized how truly limited I had been and how free the elements were, for I became a wild, moving power that is free - free of weight, free of measure, free of time. I became un unseen essence that had no form, that is pulsating light, indivisible. In that, I could move with freedom through valleys and dales and glens, through mountains and oceans and stratums, and none could see me. And, like the wind, I had the power to turn leaves from emerald to silver, to move trees that are unshakable, to go into the lungs of a babe and back into the clouds to push them away. When I became the wind, I realized how small and helpless man is in his ignorance about himself ... and how great he becomes when he extends himself into knowledge. I learned that whatever man contemplates being, he will become. If man tells himself long enough that he is wretched and powerless, he will become wretched and powerless. If he sees himself as being lord of the wind, he will become lord of the wind, as I did. And if he sees himself as being God, he is going to become God. Once I learned these understandings, I taught my beloved people for many years about the Unknown God. When I was an old man, a day came when all I had set out to accomplish had been accomplished. So I made a journey across the Indus river to the side of the mountain called Indus, and there I communed with all of my people for 120 days, I urged them to know that what I had taught them was indeed a truth; that the source of their divine guidance was not through me or any other man, but through the God that had created us all. For their belief - and to their surprise - I elevated myself quite nicely above them. Women screamed, aghast. Soldiers dropped their broadswords in amazement. I saluted them all farewell and urged them to learn as I had learned, to become as I had become ... each in his own way. Through contemplating life elements I found more forceful than man, more intelligent than man, that live in peaceful coexistence beside and in spite of man, did I discover the Unknown God. If you ask man, "How should I look?" "What should I believe in?" "How should I live?" you will die. That is a truth. Go ask the wind, "Give me knowledge, wind. Open me up and let me know", and it will turn you from olive to silver, take you into the hollows of the canyons, and laugh with you, blatantly free. I was most fortunate in being taught by life's elements. The sun never cursed me and the moon never said I must be a certain way. And a wonderful thing about them: in their simplicity and steadfastness, they asked nothing of me. The sun did not look down and say, "Ramtha, you must worship me in order to know me". The moon did not look down and say, "Ramtha, wake up! It is time to look upon my beauty." They were there whenever I looked to see them. I learned of the Unknown God from something that is constant, without judgment, and easily understood if man puts his mind to it. Because of it, I was not at the hands of the altered thinking of man - with his hypocrisy, dogma, and superstitious beliefs. That is why it was easy for me to learn in my one existence on this plane what most have yet to understand - because they look for God in another man's understanding. They look for God through religious rule, through writings that they have yet to question as to who wrote them or why they were written. Man has based his beliefs, his understanding, his life, on something that life after life has proven itself a failure. Yet man, stumbling over his own altered thinking, imprisoned by his own arrogance, continues the steadfast hypocrisy that leads only to death. Once I ascended, I began to know everything I wanted to know, because I went out of the density of flesh and into the fluidness of thought; in so doing, I was not inhibited by anything. Then I knew that man, in his essence, truly was God. Before I ascended I did not know there was such a thing as a soul, nor did I understand the mechanics of ascending the embodiment. I knew only that I was at peace with life and with what I had done. I had embraced life and the wonderfulness I saw in the heavens, day after day and night after night. I learned to love myself by identifying with the power and majesty of the wind. My life became fulfilled when I took hold of all my understanding and focused it on myself. That is when peace came. That is when I began to know more. That is what allowed me to become one with the Unknown God. It was not the wind I became, but the ideal the wind represented to me. I am now the lord over it, for I am the unseen principle that is free and omnipresent and one with all life. When I became that principle, I understood the Unknown God and all that it is - and isn't - because that is what I wanted to understand. I found the answers within me that allowed me to expand myself into a grander understanding. I was Ram the Conqueror. I am now Ram the God. I was a barbarian who became God through the simplest and yet the most profound of things. What I tech you is what I learned.
The
above is
an excerpt
from the book Ramtha:
The White Book
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