I’ll never forget the first Threshold workshop. It took place in February 2014 at the Club Med resort in Cancun, Mexico. I think Adamus is still telling stories about it at the Ascended Masters Club.
It was just awful. It’s on my list of the Top 5 Worst Workshops Ever. First of all, why we held the workshop at a Club Med resort defies logic, but that’s where we ended up. It was totally the wrong environment for a deep workshop. Even with the beautiful ocean setting, we were in the midst of “tourist” energy. The food was great (eat all you want) but the dining halls were filled with pushy, hungry, sweaty tourists trying to make sure they got their money’s worth at the buffet tables.
We booked the sleeping rooms and meeting rooms nearly a year in advance, all confirmed in contracts well ahead of the event. We limited the workshop to 25 people per Adamus’ request. We knew it was going to be very intense based on his comments prior to the event and invited Dr. Doug Davies to assist us in case any of the attendees had “energy” or physical issues during the workshop. Over the years we had learned that Dr. Doug is a tremendous asset at workshops because of his medical background, but even more so because he is highly intuitive and compassionate.
The problems started when Linda and I checked into the hotel. The suite we requested was not available so they put us in a tiny room without an ocean view, just for the first night… so they said. We ended up staying in three different rooms during the 8 days we were there.
The problems continued when we met with the sales manager two days before our event started to see the meeting room. After hours of delays and distractions, he finally admitted that they gave our meeting room – their only meeting room – to a group of doctors from Canada. I was furious. In spite of slapping down a copy of our signed contact on the table, there was literally nothing we could do about it other than try to find an alternative. The young Italian sales manager, highly trained in the art of schmoozing and deception, suggested we have the workshop on the lawn near the tennis courts, with a lovely view of the back of the restaurant service and trash area. In the full sun. Without cover. In full view of all hotel guests. When we firmly rejected that option, he showed us a quaint little building on the beach. Nice try, but it literally required walking in the ocean for about 200 yards/meters. The decrepit little building hadn’t been used in years, and was covered with rat feces.
We finally ended up in one of their restaurants. It was right on the ocean, with a beautiful view, but they used the restaurant for lunch so we had to start the workshop at 7:30 AM and be out by 11 AM. Shaumbra are not morning people, and they are not happy people if they do not have time for coffee and breakfast. Plus, the sales manager didn’t tell us that they started preparing for lunch at 8:30 AM. While we were trying to conduct a serious workshop, they were sweeping the floors around us, setting tables and making a lot of racket in the nearby open kitchen. It was just awful.
To make matters worse, an attendee from Australia broke both her ankles when she fell off an unmarked embankment, Dr. Doug fractured a foot bone and another attendee got a case of Montezuma’s revenge. The sessions with Adamus actually went pretty well, but everything else was a disaster. The dragon energy was alive and working hard at this first Threshold gathering.
That was eight years ago. Since then, we’ve done 17 in-person Threshold events and three Threshold Reunions around the world. Every Threshold workshop since the first one in Cancun has been incredible. We learned our lesson there, subsequently choosing only quiet, secluded locations. The live Threshold events were some of the most transformational we’ve ever done.
In 2020, we filmed Threshold and began offering it as a hosted online class. The first online Threshold was in August 2020, and another in the summer of 2021. We’re offering it again this year, from July 8–10.
Now to the point: I’ve done 20 live Threshold events and two online classes. The Dragon has been part of my life for the past eight years. I know the Dragon very well, and the Dragon knows me even better. At first, my encounters with the Dragon were miserable. I could feel it coming on, like some people feel the onset of a migraine headache. I dreaded the Dragon. I felt like I was being ripped inside-out, and then shredded into pieces. I knew the purpose of the Dragon was to find old issues within me, ones that had been buried and forgotten a long time ago. The Dragon was there to dredge them up so I could finally release them, but releasing oftentimes felt like crawling through hell on my belly.
In Threshold, Adamus warns of these encounters. Throughout the workshop, he weaves the true story of Margo, now an Ascended Master, and her awful encounters with the Dragon. Adamus even tells the story about his own Dragon battles in his last lifetime. In spite of the warnings and stories, there’s not much that can minimize the impact of the initial Dragon experiences.
There came a point, after many years of fierce Dragon battles, when I no longer dreaded them. I actually began looking forward to Dragon Time because I realized the benefit of getting rid of the deep shit. Like going to the dentist to get a cavity filled, it wasn’t much fun during the visit, but I sure felt better afterwards. A few times I even wished that the Dragon would come around just for a good cleansing. One day I realized that the Dragon was no longer my adversary, but rather my dear and trusted friend. Oh, it didn’t happen overnight. It took many years and many tears, but the transformation was at the deepest and most genuine levels within my being. Then, in a head-smacking “ah-ha” moment, I discovered that the Dragon was my soul. I only perceived it as a dragon because it was trying to clear eons of old human crap so it, and I, could move into embodied Realization.
At that point, I thought I would never encounter the Dragon again because all the work had been done. I had been spiritually routed out, like a giant auger going into every crevice of my being. A year passed without seeing my friend the Dragon. I secretly missed our encounters but also figured it was a good sign because I was cleansed from head to toe, thought to belief, human to angel.
To my great surprise, the Dragon surfaced again mid-way into Year 7. WTF? Did it forget something? Could it detect yet another deeply buried imbalance? I thought I was in pretty good shape but perhaps I was giving myself too much credit because I could hear the Dragon banging on the door.
Dragon: Knock, knock
Me: Who’s there? (I fully knew it was the Dragon. The stench
Me: Dr. Who?
Dragon: No, Dr. Agoni, here to give you a check-up.
Me: I’m fine, thank you. No need for the Dragon any more.
Dragon: Your soul prescribed me. Now open the door or I’ll burn it down in one fiery breath.
Me: (cracking the door open a bit) I thought we were done with these house calls?
Dragon: You’re still here on the planet in human form, aren’t you?
Me: That depends on the day.
Dragon: Then you still need these occasional visits. Like me or not, you pick up new junk along the way, even as a Master. Some of it’s yours, most of it’s not. My job is to make sure it doesn’t build up and create the mess you were in before I came along. Now bend over… you’ll hardly feel this.
Me: Ouch!! You #@!%& dragon!
It still hurt to sit down a few hours after Dr. Agoni left, but I fully realized and appreciated why he still came around even after I thought everything was cleared. As embodied Masters living in this dense and sometimes toxic reality, we pick up junk from the very environment we choose to stay in. We get it from other people, from old energies in the land, from past lifetimes that are going through their own dragon encounters, and even occasional lapses into our old, pre-Mastery days. The good Doctor comes around as part of our soul’s Wellness Program, to make sure we stay relatively clean during our extended stay on the planet. After all, we need to keep our lenses clear in order to shine a pure light, just like you should wash the headlights on your car to remove the dirt and grime that could dim the radiance.
The Dragon came roaring into my life in 2014 in Cancun, Mexico in a most unpleasant way. I thought it would be long gone by now, but it’s still with me in the form of Dr. Agoni and his occasional house calls. The Dragon went from being a dreaded terror in my life to becoming a dear and trusted friend, and now a somewhat annoying but adorable doctor who looks after my best interests.