Read our Monthly Magazine

Current eMagazine
Download PDF

Current eMagazine
View Online

Join our E-Mail List
Sign Up Here
Magazine Archives
View the Archives

In the January 2019 edition of Shaumbra Magazine, Herald and Orianne tell the Ascended Masters Club how, while still on earth, they transitioned from a monastic, ashram lifestyle to the Crimson Circle. With the world now teetering on the edge of unprecedented turmoil and chaos, this charming pair returns to share another life story, one whose insights reflect Adamus’ message to Shaumbra today – that we are here, quite simply, to share our light with the world.

We join Herald and Orianne mid-story, even before the entire cohort of Ascended Masters has assembled. It seems Herald never lost his earthly habit of starting things on time…

“…and she told me, ‘You are my amazement.’ This was something we’d say to one another, usually in a playful manner, when one of us had done something to surprise or impress the other. But I don’t remember exactly how it started.”

“I do,” said Orianne, her face lighting up, “with the parallel parking. When we first moved to France, you’d never had much practice driving in a big city. I don’t know how you did it, but each time you had to park, you’d just slide the car into the tiniest of spaces. Like peeling a banana, only in reverse. So smooth, and never a scratch.”

Herald shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say to this. For him it just came naturally. But even more, he had never heard Orianne speak in metaphors while on earth. This was new behavior. He thought this would be a clever time to make the “amazement” remark, but Orianne cut him off before he could even start.

“And then there was the violin.”

“What about the violin?” asked Herald, remembering the regret he felt that he quit after only six years.

“Are you serious?! The fact that you picked it up so easily, and with no…what’s the word for solfège?”

“Music theory!” called one of the Ascended Masters from the back of the room.

“Thank you! So yeah, with relatively no training, you played Bach and Mozart and Vivaldi. I don’t know too many people who did that. Who cares if you stopped? You were my amazement,” and she laughed.

Herald began to feel a little hot under the collar, still not comfortable having all the attention on him like this. He decided to move the story along and to finally get to the point.

“After this happened a few times, with Orianne expressing her…amazement…for lack of a better word, I began to make a list of all the times in my life where I had amazed myself. It wasn’t easy. Orianne is such the perfect mirror. But I was compelled to look at all the little, seemingly insignificant accomplishments—”

“Like turning over rocks in the garden and investigating the creepy-crawlies wriggling underneath,” Orianne interrupted.

There she goes with the figures of speech again, thought Herald. And English isn’t even her native language!

“The first on the list was easy — religion.” This caused quite a stir in the Ascended Masters Club, because everyone there remembered religion to be such a hot topic on earth.

“Oh yeah, Herald hated religion,” said Orianne nonchalantly.

“I didn’t exactly hate it.”

“You didn’t exactly love it. And you ended up studying religion in college, and then living in an ashram! How’s that for ironic?” laughed Orianne. This made the other Ascended Masters chuckle as well.

“That’s true. But to be fair, I—”

“Didn’t know much about religion?”

“That’s right, nothing in fact, even though I came from an Italian family. My grandmother was devoutly religious. To the point where—”

“Herald thought Jesus was Italian!” Orianne and the others in the room laughed for a good long time at this one. Herald laughed too, but mostly out of embarrassment.

Once the ruckus had died down, Herald continued, this time in a more solemn tone. “The most difficult rock to turn over was that of work,” he said, impressed with himself that he could carry on with Orianne’s literary skill. He glanced in her direction only to see her dispassionately picking at a finger nail.

“Suffering!” yelled someone.

“Slavery!” yelled another.

“Torture,” came a slow, grim voice from the side of the room.

“So how did you suffer?” came the question, directed at Herald, which made the room laugh again.

“Teaching,” said Herald meekly. At this announcement, the Ascended Masters all turned to one another, nodding their heads and murmuring in agreement that yeah, this must have been pretty bad.

“For a long time,” Herald continued, “I thought that teaching English was below me. What I really wanted was to get into the diplomatic service. So, I took the test.”

“Three times,” interjected Orianne.

“And failed—”

“Three times,” laughed Orianne, holding up three fingers. “Then there was Interpol,” she continued, showing three more fingers, “and the Red Cross, and the World Health Organization.” Two more fingers. “And that bio-medical company.” A ninth finger went up.

“Impressive,” said an Ascended Master with long red hair and wearing ruby-studded shoes like Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz. “Or should I say, amazing?” she added with a wink. “I hope you stopped there, Herald, otherwise Orianne is going to need more hands!”

“Yes,” said Herald, looking over at Orianne, who nodded, “I believe that was it.” And he continued to explain how he thought he had been destined to work in government or in a large, international organization. “The choice to teach English seemed too easy, like I had failed and couldn’t do anything better.”

“Then came the shift. Not long after Adamus introduced the subject of sharing our light when we—”

“Bench,” Orianne said aloud, but mostly to herself.

“Yes, benching. I realized that I had already been doing that. And for several years. My work, teaching, was benching in disguise! Because whenever I was with a student, one-on-one, I felt an incredible exchange taking place on subtle levels. I never really cared about the mechanics of the language so much, but the more I was in touch with my Self, the more the person sitting across from me felt at ease. And that’s when the magic would happen.”

“Magic?” asked someone.

“They cried,” said Orianne.

“You made your students cry?” asked the red-haired Master with a coy smile.

“No. I mean, yes, it happened a few times that someone would choke up in class, but—”

“Men,” said Orianne.

“You made your men students cry?!”

“It just happened. But there was so much more. We talked about subjects that they never spoke about with anyone else. When I mentioned this to my colleagues, I discovered they never had experiences like this. With me, the students really opened up.”

“They sure did,” said Orianne with a twinkle in her eye. “They talked about death. And consciousness. And energy. And—”

“Yes,” said Herald. “When I understood that teaching was really just a form of benching, I was thrilled. I felt like I’d been entrusted with a universal secret and that my job, which allegedly was to teach English, was really about so much more.”

“Does that mean you don’t have any regrets about Interpol or those other government agencies?”

“The tax breaks would have been nice,” quipped Herald, “but no, I saw that just by being me, without any pretense, and without ‘aiming’ my light at anyone or any issue in particular, I was doing what I had come to earth to do. I was benching. It was really cool when I think about it.”

Herald listened, waited for a reaction, but the room had gone quiet. There were some nods, some polite smiles. Finally, Orianne broke the silence. She leaned over and whispered into Herald’s ear: “Tell them about Hercules.”

“Orianne, I don’t know if this is the right time to—”

“Oh yes,” came the collective cry, “what about Hercules? We love a good hero story.”

Herald felt slightly embarrassed. Hercules was one of his childhood heroes. There was a cartoon on television he used to watch as a kid, and in this series, Hercules had a belt that, when opened, would shoot a beam of light into the sky.

“It was meant to be a signal. Hercules would open his belt, send the light into the heavens, and call one of his sidekicks to come running. That year I asked for a belt like that for Christmas. Not to call people. But because I wanted more than anything to send light, my light, into the universe.” Herald fell silent.

“And?”

“And I never got it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Ah, but you did,” said the ruby-shoed Master, sweeping the long, curly red locks from her face. “Let’s take a vote,” she continued, turning to face the others. “Who here thinks Herald should forthwith be known as…Hercules? Raise your hands.”

Every single hand in the room shot into the air. Herald looked at Orianne, whose two arms were straining to reach the ceiling above her.

“What can I say – it fits,” she said, eyebrows raised.

And with that began one of the largest, most joy-filled benching parties the Ascended Masters Club had ever seen.


Alex is a teacher and writer who has lived in France for more than 20 years. He is currently working on the sequel to his first novel, The Buddha Club. He and his wife have been involved with Crimson Circle since 2000. Alex can be contacted through his website.

0 comments on "Benching in Disguise"

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published.
More connections for you
  • Shaumbra Heartbeat
    This is Life
  • Guest Articles
    Accountability
  • Guest Articles
    Sensing Light
  • Article Translations
    КАК ПРИРУЧИТЬ ДРАКОНА ЗА 8 ЛЕТ ИЛИ МЕНЬШЕ