Autobiography Part Six:

𝘖𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘠𝘨𝘨𝘴𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭, artist unknown

Nine Nights

Originally Published Mar 16, 2026 on my old page. This post gives more detail about events described here in part five of my autobiographical posts.

“I ween that I hung on the windy tree,

Hung there for nights full nine;

With the spear I was wounded, and offered I was

To Othin, myself to myself,

On the tree that none may ever know

What root beneath it runs.

None made me happy with loaf or horn,

And there below I looked;

I took up the runes, shrieking I took them,

And forthwith back I fell.”

-Hávamál v139, Bellows translation

It was on the fifth of March, 2026 that I first remember reading this ancient Norse poem.

Five days later, I awoke early, and walked to the park.

It was not yet dawn in the early morning hours of the tenth of March. Nine full nights had passed in the month of Mars.

I was standing at a spot in the park, where, 18 months earlier, I had seen a UAP (UFO).

Five minutes before that sighting, seeing Orion in the pre-dawn sky, I had asked, Steven Greer-style, for the beings who inhabited a particular star system in Orion’s Belt (or so I had read that some inhabit that star), to stop by for a visit.

And, five minutes later, I saw the most spectacular thing I’ve ever seen in the sky. My friend and I watched in amazement. More amazed than him, I told him about my request to our potentially Orion’s Belt-based friends. He wasn’t convinced, saying that indeed it was a craft that was fit for a sci-fi film — but who knows what type of hardware the U.S. government has?

I said that I didn’t know which one was more fantastic — whether it was the U.S. government or extra-terrestrials who could pick up my softly spoken invitation and respond immediately.

This had happened the day after I had gotten the revelation to change my name to “David Young Michaels” — taking my wife’s maiden name as my middle name 16 years after she had taken her maiden name as her middle name, while taking my last name as her own. That revelation to change my middle name to match hers came with a cloud of the presence of God that now, one day later, seemed to have plunged me into enough of a spiritual state to open the channel to telepathic communication.

A friend I had told about the experience was non-plussed, and he sent me something about how, during my experience, the full moon was in the heart of the constellation Scorpio. What I saw was neither the full moon, Scorpio, nor its heart (which is the star Antares (literally, “rival of Mars”)— so named because like Mars (Aries), it is red — making Antares the only red object besides the red planet visible with the naked eye in the night sky.) As I researched this celestial occurrence, I was amazed. Scorpio is said to kill Orion — the very constellation that set off this chain of events in the first place. When I found this out, I thought of ego-death, as well as the part of the first biblical prophecy given to the serpent:

“And I will put enmity between you and the woman, And between your seed and her Seed; He shall bruise your head, And you shall bruise His heel” (Genesis 3:15).

I also learned that Scorpio is the eighth constellation. And within a span of about a day and a half, I learned that my friend’s daughter-in-law was pregnant with her and my friend’s son’s eighth daughter. Then, suddenly led to explore again, after many years, which son of Israel I shared a birthday with, I found that it was Asher — the eighth son of Israel.

The three occurrences of the number eight within a short span of time got my attention. Not only is 888 the gematria for Ἰησοῦς Χριστός (Jesus Christ in the Greek language), but eight, I understand, signifies an end to the “seven-day” cycle of work, then rest, work, then rest — culminating in an entering into God’s rest for good — as Jesus promises to those who overcome:

“He who overcomes, I will make him a pillar in the temple of My God, and he shall go out no more. I will write on him the name of My God and the name of the city of My God, the New Jerusalem, which comes down out of heaven from My God. And I will write on him My new name” (Revelation‬ ‭3‬:‭12‬).

Similarly, Pentecost, taking place on the 50th day — after seven cycles of seven — comes at the start of the eighth week.

But, about a month after this amazing experience, the constant presence of God left, and I felt back-to-normal. Seventeen more months went by, until, there I was, on March 10th (in Danish and French, 10 Mars), standing in that same spot where I had seen the UAP 18 months earlier.

And just as the last page of the night was turning, as I saw the light of dawn, but not yet the sun who would soon take her place over the brow of the horizon — I “saw the runes” (back to the Norse poem narrative) — gaining a mental clarity that came with a tremendous sense of peace and bliss. This peaceful bliss overtook me like a truer life in my soul.

Then, three days later, “I took up the runes,” as the poem states — as in — I came to possess a knowledge that I never possessed before: We were all part of God, but we wanted to love, and so we created all of this. It was so intense, that as the poem states, I almost “shrieked” out loud the following words,

“We are all God! We are all God! Everything is God!”

If I had seen anyone in the park at that early hour, I likely would have waited until I was alone, but, no one being present, I loudly proclaimed this truth that had been burned into my soul.

The trees were alive. The stones were alive. Everything was alive.

I thought of this part of a Psalm that I had always loved,

“For you shall go out with joy, And be led out with peace; The mountains and the hills Shall break forth into singing before you, And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands” (Isaiah‬ ‭55‬:‭12‬).

And so this experience of the psalmist became true for me after reading the tale of my fore bearers (I am Norwegian on my mother’s side and mostly Danish on my dad’s), passed down to me from a thousand years past in this my 50th year, on the middle day of the first nine March nights. This poem served as the herald of what was the most profound experience of my life.

So, one profound experience involving the ruddy star Antares 18 months earlier preceded an even more profound experience that took place at the first morning light of the of the tenth day of the month of bright red planet Mars.

And while the earlier experience was characterized by the number eight, this one was characterized by nine.

And I had this thought — if seven is rest, then eight is waking up. But sometimes, after waking up, we fall back asleep. So then, if eight is merely waking up, but with the potential of falling back asleep — then nine is wide awake — and therefore difficult to be lulled back into unconsciousness. Difficult, but not impossible. I’ve been fighting the lulling back into unconsciousness for about a month now [I added these last sentences to this post on 6/7/26.] But I have assurance that just as seven gave way to eight which gave way to nine, ten will come — and I anticipate that with ten I will begin fully integrating myself into this world — but not of this world — only in the world, but of the kingdom of God.