” The Eyes of Tutankhamun
As a young wife and mother living in “1979’s” Northern California Bay Area I had the opportunity to view “The Treasures of Tutankhamun”. My then husband’s cousin had come down from Oregon with tickets for a special showing of the aforementioned artifacts. It was to be at the DeYoung museum in Golden gate Park in beautiful San Francisco. Only federal employees, their families and guests would attend.
I was 22 years old at this time and was still a bit vain and frivolous in my thinking. I still remember saying to myself, “What should I wear to this event? After all I’ve never met a king before. A long dead king but a king none the less.” I finely settled on the 70’s version of “the little black dress”. I was quite thin back-in-the-day, with long blond hair that fell nearly to my 22” waist. And being 6’2” I looked quite dramatic clad all in black!
“PERFECT!” I thought to myself. (Or as close to it as I could come at the time.)
We lived in the East bay and the drive took more than an hour. Yet it was to prove well worth it. The drive seemed to go quickly and upon arriving we found a parking space on the far side of the park. The walk to the museum was both lovely and lively. As we passed through the Rose Garden, the sent of flowers in full bloom permeated the fall air. And only once were we swarmed by a group of roller skaters! (This was long before inline skates. There were always vans outside the park where these four-wheeled boots might be rented.)
As we reached the entrance of the museum all we could see was this long line that wrapped around the side of the building. I began to wonder just how long it was going to take to finely gain admittance. The wait wasn’t very long; I was amazed that, even with all of the people, it didn’t seem to take long at all! Although, while we waited, my husband’s cousin regaled us with stories of an arduous trip from Oregon, to hear him tell it the trip was “The Northwest Passage” all over again. But being a grateful recipient of his tickets I held my sarcastic remarks and smiled at the telling of his long hard journey, remarking how difficult it must have been with a pregnant wife.
As we entered the exhibition hall our jovial mood turned to one of solemn reverence. “Time to meet the king!” I thought to my self.
We walked slowly, taking in the aura, which permeated the room with awe and wonder. A calm, cool feeling washed over me as I viewed the personal objects of the young kings life. An ivory chair he had used as a small child, the combs and earrings of his young wife and an article used by the couple made of human hair. Such a personal look into the life of the young Pharaoh, it brought a silent sigh to my heart.
At the center of this eclectic and wondrous collection of items “representing one man’s life”, there was the golden mask of Tut himself! Just as I arrived to this portion of the exhibit, I felt a gentle breeze flutter across my cheek. Then a low deep voice whispering, “MARTA….Marta… marta.” I turned with a start and then came face to face with the radiant image of Pharaoh Tutankamun!
This gleaming, glorious, golden face with deep dark brown eyes enthralled me! I felt almost magnetically drawn to it. Again the voice beckoned, “Marta.” Although Marta is not my name, Margaret (my given name) differs only a syllable or two. Somehow I felt as though it WAS my name and moved closer in response.
I do not know how long I stood there. Standing there, just gazing into the ancient face of this long dead “Boy King" I was glued to his stony gaze. But eventually my husband came back to find me still as a rock motionlessly staring at the mask. The other patrons were looking at me standing there as if in some sort of a trance. He touched my arm and suddenly I was back among the crowd.
It was not till many years later when I had the vivid dreams of this event that I recalled what had actually occurred between the mask and I.
However the rest of the exhibit was truly astoundingly beautiful! The last artifact was a chest with hieroglyphics all around it. As we passed this object I saw an older woman with an eyeglass looking closely as if reading the glyphs. I thought to my self, “Is she really reading that stuff or is she just being pretentious?” But now in hindsight I’m sure she was reading the long dead script of ancient Egypt. (Admittedly it was a bit beyond my concept at the time.) And then on to the banquet!
It was a huge and varied array of delicious treats. There were huge beef roasts, every fruit imaginable, breads and cheeses of all kinds. And just about any sort of drink you can think of was being presented in a sort of buffet.
While we were all enjoying this delicious meal there came in a lovely lady clad all in shear vails. She began dancing through the crowd. With symbols tapping out rhythm on her well manicured fingers and bells and tiny symbols attached to her waist and toes she danced to her own music. ‘Till the faint sound of a strumming lute was also to be heard followed by ancient instruments of all sorts. It was all quite magical.
I’ve come a very long way from this event yet it burns so clear in my mind’s eye. Through much study, meditation and other esoteric practices I’ve come to know my true soul self all starting from this one point and time when I gazed into, “The Eyes of Tutankhamun”
“The birth of king Tut” <— My QHHT session excerpt (this session was done in 2016 in Corpus Christi Texas)
