My Assisi experience began in the fall of 2018 and culminated in an extraordinary event in Assisi, Italy, in 2019. This experience deepened my confidence in sensing energy, and my ability to connect directly to past-life awareness. It also reinforced something I had long suspected: the inner landscape is as real as the outer one.

In the fall of 2018, I spent a great deal of time alone in the forest by my favorite river. Sometimes I would walk, have lunch, or simply sit quietly in a camp chair, listening to the water and the sounds of the forest. Often, I would close my eyes, grow very still inside, and breathe into the essence of the Earth, allowing myself to connect with the living web of nature.

One sunny afternoon, while in this deep, receptive state, I realized I was not alone.

My camp chair sat near the gurgling stream. With my eyes closed, I sensed six angelic presences arranged in a semicircle, hovering over the water. No words were exchanged, yet their benevolent presence was unmistakable. Without agenda or concern, I returned my attention to breathing in the Earth’s essence. I sensed that they were simply following the energetic flow. This first session lasted twenty to thirty minutes and concluded as naturally as it began.

Winter passed, followed by spring and summer. I had seven or eight more encounters with this group while in deep receptive states. I began inviting them to join me, as I sensed no energetic feeding or intrusion. It felt as though they were interested in how my own angelic presence was adapting to being embodied. Sometimes four or five would appear; other times as many as twelve. I had the sense that some of these beings were preparing for incarnation on Earth and were learning through our shared presence what it meant to be human.

These sessions coincided with breakthroughs in my own spiritual journey. They were never scheduled, yet they followed a rhythm that felt as natural as the first meeting by the stream. At the time, I had no idea they would later be connected to a significant event in my life.

In the fall of 2019, I found myself in Europe with nine days before meeting friends in the Netherlands. I chose to spend that time in Assisi. I stayed in a remodeled apartment in the heart of the old city. Assisi is a city of stone, its buildings ancient to the bone, and its Catholic roots still very much alive. I decided to use the churches as quiet spaces for meditation.

The first place I visited was a small chapel just minutes from my apartment — the ancestral home of St. Francis, now known as the Chiesa Nuova. In the entryway were chains attached to the wall, said to have been used by Francis’s father to restrain him when he began giving away the family fortune to the poor. I nodded to the Franciscan monk at the entrance and entered.

Two things happened to me there.

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Soon after sitting on the hard wooden bench and beginning my meditation, I became agitated. An overwhelming impulse arose to give away everything I owned and become a Franciscan monk. A vivid plan formed to divest myself of my business and never return to my life in the United States. The impulse felt startlingly true to my inner compass, yet clearly not my path in this lifetime. The thought of leaving behind a new and meaningful relationship tempered the intensity. My heart raced as I sat there, breathing deeply to calm myself.

Then I looked to my right at a mural on the wall and experienced a second shock. The image depicted a field filled with crucifixes, men bound to them with ropes. Suddenly, I could feel the ropes on my arms and see the smirk of a centurion standing nearby. In that moment, I knew I had once been killed for speaking out against the tyranny and manipulation of the Church — at a time when it no longer embodied the authentic message of Yeshua.

A cough echoed through the nearly empty chapel, breaking the reverie. Shaken, I stood, nodded again to the monk, and stepped back into the sunlight. I spent much of that first day walking the cobbled streets, sensing that my impulse to come to Assisi was activating threads from other lifetimes.

I came to love the city — its people, its food, its layered history revealed in stone. High above the city are two ancient fortresses once used to protect Assisi. Touring them stirred additional memories: the worn patterns on stone steps, the feeling of being a young lad enduring a stern lecture, and later, the sheer joy of running freely between the citadels as a messenger — exhilarated by my lanky teenage body and the open air.

Each day, I visited a different church to meditate. There was no plan, only a gentle unfolding guided by intuition. I found a deep sense of love in these explorations. I would sit quietly in a corner, sometimes for an hour or more, simply resting in presence. Being newly in love added to the vibrancy of those meditations.

As the days passed, I noticed I was drawn to progressively larger churches. I meditated beside the body of St. Francis in the basilica bearing his name. The energies there were complex and swirling, making it difficult to go deep. I called upon St. Francis himself, along with several archangels, returning twice until I could find the quiet place within.

On my final day, bags packed, I decided to visit one last cathedral: Santa Maria degli Angeli, built around the small chapel where St. Francis prayed shortly before his death. I rolled my suitcase inside and sat on a simple pew within the tiny chapel. From somewhere in the vast cathedral, the strains of Ave Maria echoed softly. I closed my eyes and turned inward.

This is where things became strange.

I heard what sounded like a low growl behind me—an unmistakable sense of malevolent presence. The hair on my arms and neck stood up. Even now, recalling that moment sends a shudder through me.

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Suddenly, my angelic companions were there—fifteen of them, more than ever before. Energy surged through my body with an intensity I had never experienced. I called upon Archangel Michael, Archangel Raphael, and Metatron. I called upon Mary, Yeshua, and the apostles. The energy continued to build, roaring like a waterfall. My mind reeled, yet internally I knew this was meant to be. Even when it seemed there could be no more energy, it kept intensifying.

At the peak, there was an explosion.

I was cast high into the air, witnessing what appeared to be a nuclear detonation radiating outward from Assisi. I rose higher, seeing all of Italy, then the curve of the Earth. The energy spread across the planet in expanding lines and patterns.

And then it was over.

I opened my eyes, heart pounding, expecting devastation. Instead, I was alone on the narrow pew. Ave Maria still echoed gently through the cathedral. I felt stunned and disoriented. The energetic reality of the explosion was undeniable. An urgent impulse arose to leave. I grabbed my suitcase and made my way quickly to the nearby train station.

About ten minutes into the ride, my phone rang. The caller, a woman from England, had obtained my number through a mutual friend. She told me she worked with Earth energy grids and had noticed a disturbance over the past week emanating from Assisi. She believed I was at the epicenter.

“What happened today?” she asked. “There was a massive reset that activated the ley lines of the planet.”

Her words felt no stranger than the day itself. I described what had occurred in the cathedral. She responded, “I bet you got the heck out of there afterward.” I had. She asked if I knew what I had done. I did not.

She explained that she had observed a gradual energetic reset in Assisi, particularly through its churches. While the underlying agenda of the Catholic Church had long been manipulation and control, she said, I had been focusing on love. That orientation created a disturbance—not through opposition, but through coherence.

She reminded me that while the head of the Catholic Church is in Rome, its heart is in Assisi. This reset, she said, represented an opportunity for the Church to shift its energetic focus.

I have not had further sessions with my angelic companions. Were their visits part of a plan unknown to me? I came to Assisi with no agenda, guided only by intuition. I began to wonder whether my belief that they were learning from me had been reversed.

To claim such influence on a vast institution could sound self-aggrandizing. It does not feel that way. I simply report what I experienced.

There are other threads connected to Assisi that became clearer only in hindsight, especially after Heaven’s Cross.

One involves writing I was doing about the Essenes. During that time, I received a sudden, panicked communication from an Essene lifetime — Yeshua had just been killed. There was grief and disorientation. I spent time reassuring him that all was well, sensing relief before the connection faded. I understood that this version of me had been a healer, supporting others even amid his own loss, and may have perceived me as an angel reaching through time.

Another thread connects to my repeated involvement, across lifetimes, in preserving the essence of Yeshua’s teachings as they became institutionalized — and the cost of standing for that truth.

After Heaven’s Cross, the connections became clearer. My experience in Assisi felt like realm work I had agreed to at a level beyond conscious awareness. Perhaps such energetic resets require a human presence — boots on the ground. Perhaps my mastery guided me without informing my human mind, sparing me interference through expectation or control.

My mind still has many questions. And perhaps that, too, is part of its purpose.