The Celestine Prophecy

  Copyright © 1993 by James Redfield

  Author’s Note copyright © 2006 by James Redfield

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Grand Central Publishing

  Hachette Book Group, USA

  237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroupUSA.com.

  First eBook Edition: November 1997

  ISBN: 978-0-446-54555-6

  Cover design by Vic Donatic/Oz ideas

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  A Critical Mass

  The Longer Now

  A Matter of Energy

  The Struggle for Power

  The Message of the Mystics

  Clearing the Past

  Engaging the Flow

  The Interpersonal Ethic

  The Emerging Culture

  THEY READ IT AND THEY FELT ITS TRUTH. NOW IT’S YOUR TURN TO EXPERIENCE THE CELESTINE PROPHECY “THE MANUAL FOR THE NEXT MILLENNIUM.”*

  “An astonishing parable.…[A] complex book, one which sheds light even for the skeptic.”

  —San Gabriel Valley Newspapers

  “Rich in moral and spiritual issues.”

  —Morning News (Tacoma, WA)

  “Fast-paced from the onset…a timely message.”

  —Lexington Herald-Leader (KY)

  “A compelling spiritual parable describing the growth of human consciousness…[that] pinpoints feelings and experiences that we all share.”

  —Movingwords

  “A how-to manual on understanding the meaning of life.…There is much to praise in this work.”

  —*Calgary Herald

  “Penetrating, stimulating, spiritually constructive.”

  —The Phoenix

  “Reveals insights which provoke reflection and discussion.”

  —Aquarius

  “The message is powerful, just as all lasting fables and parables are powerful. It taps our need to establish meaning for our lives.”

  —Toledo Blade

  “Philosophically ground-shaking.…My strongest recommendation is that you obtain a copy as quickly as possible.”

  —Dr. Avram Leiv, New Frontier Magazine

  “It has made and continues to make a profound shift in my consciousness and life.”

  —Terry Cole Whittaker, author of Love and Power in a World Without Limits

  “I can recommend THE CELESTINE PROPHECY wholeheartedly.”

  —Fred Alan Wolf, author of Taking the Quantum Leap

  “The most entertaining map to spiritual growth I’ve ever read.”

  —Ken Keyes, Jr., author of Handbook to Higher Consciousness

  “Simple, direct, and eloquently to the point.”

  —David Applebaum, Parabola magazine

  “A delight.”

  —Karen Sherman, Ph.D., The New Times

  “A gripping adventure story filled with intrigue, suspense, and spiritual revelations.”

  —Commonwealth Journal (KY)

  For

  Sarah Virginia Redfield

  And those who have insight will

  shine brightly like the brightness of

  the expanse of Heaven, and those who

  lead the many to righteousness, like the

  stars forever and ever.

  But for you, Daniel, conceal these

  words and seal up the book until the end

  of time. Many will go back and forth,

  and knowledge will increase.

  DANIEL 12:3-4

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  So many people influenced this book that it would be impossible to mention them all. But I must say special thanks to Alan Shields, Jim Gamble, Mark Lafountain, Marc and Debra McElhaney, Dan Questenberry, BJ Jones, Bobby Hudson, Joy and Bob Kwapien, Michael Ryce, author of the tape series “Why is this happening to me again,” and most of all, to my wife, Salle.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  If you find yourself reading this book, then you may be sensing something stirring out there in human culture: a tweaking of the senses, an opening to life’s mystery. Many commentators have called it an emerging new world view or a period of uncertainty and searching in human affairs. But I believe what we’re intuiting goes much deeper than any of these labels.

  It goes to the heart of how we think about the history of the cosmos and of who we are as human beings. It is nothing less than the discovery of another way of pursuing life that is decidedly spiritual, but yet is not antiscience or antievolution, or dependent on any one religious tradition for that matter. It entails a shift in our direct, everyday experience of the transcendent, as experience, quite apart from whatever tradition we come from.

  What is occurring now is more of an awakening, a natural filling out of our innate potential, the unused parts of our brain, the rest of our DNA that’s been waiting to fire off. All happening quite spontaneously as a natural consequence of every discovery in human searching that has taken place in the eons that have come before us.

  Our “ah ha” today falls in the same line of discovery that began with the jolting observation, long ago, that our tribal mates were actually dying, which meant we were going to die as well, which first lifted us out of our primeval sleep. Our ability to stay awake expanded even more when we unleashed our reflective power on the sides of caves, initiating the first artistic reflection on our world. And this awareness began to be instituted fully with the sense of courageous objectivity we achieved when we finally invented science. All these steps perked us up a bit more to the real human condition that we most want to repress: the fact that we find ourselves here in life with no real certainty as to why.

  It’s this more awakened state that fuels the current exploration of spiritual consciousness. We are asking the same age-old questions. Why are we here? Where are we going? How are my actions part of all this? The only difference is that now there are more of us asking. And the answers are finally arriving.

  Greatest of all is that because of all the searching before us, these answers are less abstract, more connected to our real lives. We can prove them to ourselves. We’re here to experience and become part of what I think of as a mystical “evolutionary flow” that will finish the whole evolution of the cosmos, of life, and of human culture in a way that was always inevitable. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Better to stop … and leave the details to the reading of book.

  A

  CRITICAL

  MASS

  I drove up to the restaurant and parked, then leaned back in my seat to think for a moment. Charlene, I knew, would already be inside, waiting to talk with me. But why? I hadn’t heard a word from her in six years. Why would she have shown up now, just when I had sequestered myself in the woods for a week?

  I stepped out of the truck and walked toward the restaurant. Behind me, the last glow of a sunset sank in the west and cast highlights of golden amber across the wet parking lot. Everything had been drenched an hour earlier by a brief thunderstorm, and now the summer evening felt cool and renewed, and because of the fading light, almost surreal. A half moon hung overhead.

  As I walked, old images of Charlene filled my mind. Was she still beautiful, intense? How would time have changed her? And what was I to think of this manuscript she had mentioned—this ancient artifact found in South America that she couldn’t wait to tell me about?

  “I have a two-hour layover at the airport,” she had said on the telephone. “Can you
meet me for dinner? You’re going to love what this manuscript says—it’s just your kind of mystery.”

  My kind of mystery? What did she mean by that?

  Inside, the restaurant was crowded. Several couples waited for tables. When I found the hostess, she told me Charlene had already been seated and directed me toward a terraced area above the main dining room.

  I walked up the steps and became aware of a crowd of people surrounding one of the tables. The crowd included two policemen. Suddenly, the policemen turned and rushed past me and down the steps. As the rest of the people dispersed, I could see past them to the person who seemed to have been the center of attention—a woman, still seated at the table … Charlene!

  I quickly walked up to her. “Charlene, what’s going on? Is anything wrong?”

  She tossed her head back in mock exasperation and stood up, flashing her famous smile. I noticed that her hair was perhaps different, but her face was exactly as I remembered: small delicate features, wide mouth, huge blue eyes.

  “You wouldn’t believe it,” she said, pulling me into a friendly hug. “I went to the rest room a few minutes ago and while I was gone, someone stole my briefcase.”

  “What was in it?”

  “Nothing of importance, just some books and magazines I was taking along for the trip. It’s crazy. The people at the other tables told me someone just walked-in, picked it up, and walked out. They gave the police a description and the officers said they would search the area.”

  “Maybe I should help them look?”

  “No, no. Let’s forget about it. I don’t have much time and I want to talk with you.”

  I nodded and Charlene suggested we sit down. A waiter approached so we looked over the menu and gave him our order. Afterward, we spent ten or fifteen minutes chatting in general. I tried to underplay my self-imposed isolation but Charlene picked up on my vagueness. She leaned over and gave me that smile again.

  “So what’s really going on with you?” she asked.

  I looked at her eyes, at the intense way she was looking at me. “You want the whole story immediately, don’t you?”

  “Always,” she said.

  “Well, the truth is, I’m taking some time for myself right now and staying at the lake. I’ve been working hard and I’m thinking about changing directions in my life.”

  “I remember you talking about that lake. I thought you and your sister had to sell it.”

  “Not yet, but the problem is property taxes. Because the land is so close to the city, the taxes keep increasing.”

  She nodded. “So what are you going to do next?”

  “I don’t know yet. Something different.”

  She gave me an intriguing look. “Sounds as if you’re as restless as everyone else.”

  “I suppose,” I said. “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s in the Manuscript.”

  There was silence as I returned her gaze.

  “Tell me about this Manuscript,” I said.

  She leaned back in her chair as if to gather her thoughts, then looked me in the eye again. “I mentioned on the phone, I think, that I left the newspaper several years ago and joined a research firm that investigates cultural and demographic changes for the U.N. My last assignment was in Peru.

  “While I was there, completing some research at the University of Lima, I kept hearing rumors about an old manuscript that had been discovered—only no one could give me any of the details, not even at the departments of archeology or anthropology. And when I contacted the government about it, they denied any knowledge whatsoever.

  “One person told me that the government was actually working to suppress this document for some reason. Although, again, he had no direct knowledge.

  “You know me,” she continued. “I’m curious. When my assignment was over, I decided to stay around for a couple of days to see what I could find out. At first, every lead I pursued turned out to be another dead end, but then while I was eating lunch in a cafe outside of Lima, I noticed a priest watching me. After a few minutes, he walked over and admitted that he had heard me inquiring about the Manuscript earlier in the day. He wouldn’t reveal his name but he agreed to answer all my questions.”

  She hesitated for a moment, still looking at me intensely. “He said the Manuscript dates back to about 600 B.C. It predicts a massive transformation in human society.”

  “Beginning when?” I asked.

  “In the last decades of the twentieth century.”

  “Now?!”

  “Yes, now.”

  “What kind of transformation is it supposed to be?” I asked.

  She looked embarrassed for a moment, then with force said, “The priest told me it’s a kind of renaissance in consciousness, occurring very slowly. It’s not religious in nature, but it is spiritual. We’re discovering something new about human life on this planet, about what our existence means, and according to the priest, this knowledge will alter human culture dramatically.”

  She paused again, then added, “The priest told me the Manuscript is divided into segments, or chapters, each devoted to a particular insight into life. The Manuscript predicts that in this time period human beings will begin to grasp these insights sequentially, one insight then another, as we move from where we are now to a completely spiritual culture on Earth.”

  I shook my head and raised an eyebrow cynically. “Do you really believe all this?”

  “Well,” she said. “I think…”

  “Look around,” I interrupted, pointing at the crowd sitting in the room below us. “This is the real world. Do you see anything changing out there?”

  Just as I said that, an angry remark erupted from a table near the far wall, a remark I couldn’t understand, but which was loud enough to hush the entire room. At first I thought the disturbance was another robbery, but then I realized it was only an argument. A woman appearing to be in her thirties was standing up and staring indignantly at a man seated across from her.

  “No,” she yelled. “The problem is that this relationship is not happening the way I wanted! Do you understand? It’s not happening!” She composed herself, tossed her napkin on the table, and walked out.

  Charlene and I stared at each other, shocked that the outburst had occurred at the very moment we were discussing the people below us. Finally Charlene nodded toward the table where the man remained alone and said, “It’s the real world that’s changing.”

  “How?” I asked, still off balance.

  “The transformation is beginning with the First Insight, and according to the priest, this insight always surfaces unconsciously at first, as a profound sense of restlessness.”

  “Restlessness?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are we looking for?”

  “That’s just it! At first we aren’t sure. According to the Manuscript, we’re beginning to glimpse an alternative kind of experience … moments in our lives that feel different somehow, more intense and inspiring. But we don’t know what this experience is or how to make it last, and when it ends we’re left feeling dissatisfied and restless with a life that seems ordinary again.”

  “You think this restlessness was behind the woman’s anger?”

  “Yes. She’s just like the rest of us. We’re all looking for more fulfillment in our lives, and we won’t put up with anything that seems to bring us down. This restless searching is what’s behind the ‘me–first’ attitude that has characterized recent decades, and it’s affecting everyone, from Wall Street to street gangs.”

  She looked directly at me. “And when it comes to relationships, we’re so demanding that we’re making them near impossible.”

  Her remark brought back the memory of my last two relationships. Both had begun intensely and both within a year had failed. When I focused on Charlene again, she was waiting patiently.

  “What exactly are we doing to our romantic relationships?” I asked.

  “I talked with the priest a long time about this,”
she replied. “He said that when both partners in a relationship are overly demanding, when each expects the other to live in his or her world, to always be there to join in his or her chosen activities, an ego battle inevitably develops.”

  What she said struck home. My last two relationships had indeed degenerated into power struggles. In both situations, we had found ourselves in a conflict of agendas. The pace had been too fast. We had too little time to coordinate our different ideas about what to do, where to go, what interests to pursue. In the end, the issue of who would lead, who would determine the direction for the day, had become an irresolvable difficulty.

  “Because of this control battle,” Charlene continued, “the Manuscript says we will find it very difficult to stay with the same person for any length of time.”

  “That doesn’t seem very spiritual,” I said.

  “That’s exactly what I told the priest,” she replied. “He said to remember that while most of society’s recent ills can be traced to this restlessness and searching, this problem is temporary, and will come to an end. We’re finally becoming conscious of what we’re actually looking for, of what this other, more fulfilling experience really is. When we grasp it fully, we’ll have attained the First Insight.”

  Our dinner arrived so we paused for several minutes as the waiter poured more wine, and to taste each other’s food. When she reached across the table to take a bite of salmon from my plate, Charlene wrinkled her nose and giggled. I realized how easy it was to be with her.

  “Okay,” I said. “What is this experience we’re looking for? What is the First Insight?”

  She hesitated, as though unsure how to begin.

  “This is hard to explain,” she said. “But the priest put it this way. He said the First Insight occurs when we become conscious of the coincidences in our lives.”