Our spiritual master occasionally talked about luminous bodies. He also spoke about Deva- and Praetayonis, and of course, he wrote about microvita. In ‘Microvita in a Nutshell‘, for example, we find in his first discourse:
Now, these microvita are not of the same density or the same subtlety. Some of them come within the range of a highly developed microscope; and some of them may not come within the range of a microscope, but by their actional expression or through their actional faculty or as a result of their actional vibrations, they may come within the scope of our perception. They are of subtle order. There may be still more subtle forms of microvita which may not come directly within the scope of our perception but may come within the scope of a special type of perception which is actually the reflection of conception within the range of perception in a limited sphere.
So when we decided to spend our next summer vacation in Iceland, I started asking myself whether we could find something there in that regard: As Iceland is known for its elves, trolls and dwarves; and moreover, there are tales saying that people occasionally heard supernatural singings – which resembles the tales about Gandharva Devayonis in India and Afghanisthan…
A few days later, I talked to a Margii friend on phone. During the conversation, I mentioned that we were planning to visit Iceland, the land of supernatural beings. At that he remembered a quote saying that in the future, scientists will be able to see microvita with the help of a sophisticated microscope. Therefore, we ‘concluded‘ that microvita could be found in Iceland, and that these might be larger than elsewhere, so that they might be recognizable through a lens. Subsequently, we agreed that a photo should be taken, showing myself in Iceland, identifying a particular microvitum for the first time in history, with the help of only a lens.
With this idea in mind, we embarked on August 3rd, 2014.
From the start, I looked for a suitable location. On the third day, we had a bicycle tour of Reykjavik. Gunnar, our guide, brought us to an elves rock near the old city center. We considered taking photos there at midnight, but eventually decided to look for a better place.
On the same tour, he also mentioned a volcano, Snaefellsjökull, in the extreme west of Iceland, which is not only a place of remarkable sagas, but also one of the few centers of occult powers on planet Earth. So we decided to go there and check out what it‘s all about.
On reaching Snaefellsjökull National Park, we intensified our search for a suitable location. In the late afternoon we came to a small settlement, called Helnar. There, in the vicinity of a basalt cliff, we found a wooden church, and at the edge of its graveyard, I saw a hole in the ground, obviously leading to a system of tunnels below. My wife mentioned that it’s nothing but an entrance for moles or rats, but I considered it to be the ideal site for our photo shooting.
Around midnight, I dressed up appropriately, and then we went to the place, equipped with a torchlight and a lens. In the dim light of the northern summer midnight, we managed to take some fairly good photos with me, engaged in identifying a microvitum living under the Helnar graveyard – which is undoubtedly a historic place, with Bardur Dumbsson, the icelandic sage having chosen to settle there more than 1200 years ago.
Another day, we proceeded to visit a big lava tube nearby. It consists of three cavities, up to fifty meters under ground. The first one was introduced as a former meeting place of elves and trolls. There was a central ‘stage‘ with a ‘throne‘, an ‘audience hall‘ and a ‘gallery‘ for ‘visitors‘. We imagined how grandfathers and grandmothers must have told their children about these caves, being the sites where the trolls made their decisions, later affecting human lives in so many ways.
On the next day we prepared ourselves for a hike to a thermal stream in the highlands near Hveragardi. We parked our camper at the foot of the hills. From the start, we were fascinated by the volcanic landscape with sulfuric smoke coming out of countless fissures. Moreover, boiling springs were bubbling left and right of our track.
Covering the distance of 3.5 km, however, was felt like 10 km at least. Finally, we arrived at a location where a hot and a cold stream merged, providing moderate temperatures to the subsequent waters. But before taking a bath, we were eager to explore the area around the hot stream. My wife had already managed to reach the embankment, from which she had a good view of the slopes with their sulfuric efflorescences.
I struggled to reach the same spot, but the ground was muddy and my feet sunk in. I started to jump in order to avoid getting messed up, but it hardly helped – I sunk down to my ankles. When I had almost reached her, she suddenly yelled: NOT HERE! I realized that there was an outlandish zone in front, so I jumped aside. When I finally reached her, shoes and trousers were all full of mud – and the area right next to us was recognized as a thermal spot, which could have swallowed me only a few seconds before.
On our way down to the parking zone, we got more and more exhausted. My legs were aching and I repeatedly slipped due to an insufficient grip of my shoes. When we approached the car, my wife asked for the key. I started searching my pockets. We both checked all possibilities, but the key was gone. Did I loose it while jumping around in the mud? Was it lost while cleaning my clothes afterwards? My wife said she would go back and search for the key. I said I would accompany her, knowing quite well that hiking all the way for a second time would exceed my capacities. Desperately I decided to first go to the toilet. Sitting there in agony, I suddenly heard my wife screeming: “The key is found!!“
In despair, she had gone to the car and found a notice, saying that the key can be collected in the nearby restaurant. Oh yes, we were realy relieved. No need of going back all the way to the bathing site!
Outside, in a corner, I saw a brochure with pictures of the hot stream, displayed in even better colors and details than I had been able to depict them. Really great! We boarded our camper and drove to the camping place. Ten minutes later, I started looking for my purse. I asked my wife – she could hardly believe it: The purse was gone with all our cash, credit cards and driving license. We searched in the car and finally decided to go back to the imbiss restaurant, having seen the purse there for the last time. When we asked the barkeeper about it, she simply said: “It‘s not your day, isn‘t it?“ In despair, we again discussed the various possibilities. We exchanged email-addresses and telefone-numbers, in case that the purse would reappear. Suddenly, my wife yelled: “The purse is found!“ She got it on the floor, just next to the brochures with the beautiful pictures. Thank God, purse and key were back to where they belonged.
In the late afternoon we speculated about the reasons for such a series of mishaps. Quite soon, we considered that it might be related to my plan of publishing the photos with the fake identification of crude microvita. At a recent assembly of trolls, they might have discussed the issue. After finishing their general agenda, a renowned troll might have stood up in order to report to the headmaster that a german fellow and his indian wife had come to Iceland. They had made a series of photos posing to show the identification of some microvita with the help of a lens only. So, although Anandamurti had clearly said that these entities will be seen with the help of a sophisticated microscope, this fellow dared to hunt for them with a lens only. Moreover, he had chosen the graveyard of Helnar, a sacred place near Snaefellsjökull, making fun not only of microvita, but also of one of the most reputed places of occult powers on planet Earth. Such an iniquity needed punishment, no doubt. So the headmaster asked the assembly about their suggestions. He said: “This fellow used to be a good boy, but now he became too naughty. We have to show him the limits.“ A small troll, standing on the gallery, jumped down and squeaked: “I have an idea, I‘ll make his most needed belongings disappear.“ “Hmmm“ said the headmaster, “let it be so.“
The small troll knew that we were desperately dependent on the car, the driving licence and the credit cards, so he managed to let them disappear. The elves, however, felt that the punishment was too hard, and they intervened by helping to get them all back.
In the evening, while driving along the southern cost, we came in sight of Heimaey, the island where a volcanic eruption destroyed a whole town in 1973. I wanted to take a photo, but there was no parking place. Instead, I saw a restricted zone just next to a junction, and I thought that it should be possible to take a picture through the open window and proceed.
While peeping through the lens, a car suddenly stopped next to us, and a friendly man with a police cap warned that we were not allowed to stop the car at this location. I was absolutely stunned to see this man, as there had been no traffic on the road, and it seemed that he had come out of nowhere, just to catch us committing a sin.
After this incident, we proceeded towards Skaftafell. As I saw the famous waterfall for the first time, I again wanted to take a picture through the open window. But I neither found a parking place, nor a restricted zone, so, again, with no traffic far and wide, I stopped the car on the highway.
In the very next moment, a police car crossed in front. The same person came to us asking for my driving licence. He told that there is a fine in Iceland for stopping the car on the highway. And then he said, with the glimpse of an elve: “I give you a last warning.“ We understood.
Sufficiently ashamed, we proceeded into the northern night. It became difficult to find a sleeping place, but we finally agreed to stay at Laufskalavarda. Next morning we got to know about its history: There had once been a large farm known as Laufskalar with 24 doors on iron hinges. It was destroyed in the year 894, during the first recorded eruption of Katla volcano. The local lava mound was named after this farm. Everyone passing by for the first time was supposed to pile up some stones, just to bring good luck. My wife said we should also do so, in oder to please the elves of this place. I took a few stones from nearby, but she searched for them at a distance: The elves should be satisfied, having saved us so many times on that remarkable day …