I wake up.
And read my messages.
It’s cool to know that you’re following along.
One message stands out in particular:
It is about predictions from a palm-leaf library, passed on by Mr. Ritter. He is probably one of the pioneers of this subject in the German-speaking world. You can easily find him through his numerous books and videos. Years ago, he heard about these libraries—and simply had to see them with his own eyes.
Today, I feel exactly the same way.
I have often heard stories about deeply mystical works that are said to describe every event that has ever happened—and everything that will happen in the future. I have also heard stories making claims that sound utterly insane: time travel, legends of time portals such as those said to exist inside the Untersberg in the Alps—a mountain that even the Dalai Lama supposedly found so fascinating that he flew there specifically to visit it. Clairvoyant people describing experiences that will occur in the future. Expanded states of consciousness in which place and time no longer exist.
But they are only stories.
Anyone can invent stories. I completely understand anyone whose immediate reaction is to reject them and dismiss them as nothing more than nonsense. I felt the same way. I also thought:
How could that possibly work?
But when you hear the same stories again and again, from all over the world, told by people who do not know one another and speak languages that have nothing to do with each other—it does something to you.
There are the Akashic Records, the knowing field, Hebrew scriptures, the Qur’an, the Dead Sea Scrolls, the eightfold path of yoga, and ancient messages said to be inscribed within our DNA.
What if these apparently different teachings are actually describing the same thing?
What if they all describe the idea that we are more than we believe ourselves to be?
What if they describe what it truly means to be human?
What if they suggest that, a long time ago, we decided to shut away a part of ourselves?
It could be an indication that the world, truth, life, and reality are far greater than anything we can comprehend through our senses in an ordinary state of consciousness.

And within me, this awakens something very simple:
Fascination.
I knew that, eventually, the moment would come when this fascination would become something more.
And then, one day, one of these places found its way to me:
The palm-leaf libraries.
The seed had been sown by Aunt Liese a long time ago. Countless times, she had told stories about them. But I could not relate to them through my own experience. The entire idea seemed absurd to me.
Until one day, Prabhu told his story.
In a palm leaf—possibly written hundreds of years ago—it described exactly what had happened in his life, culminating in an astonishing statement:
This palm leaf will be read on this very day—42 days after Prabhu crossed the ocean to begin a new job.
And that was exactly what had happened.
He had started working in Germany 42 days earlier.
That completely blew me away—and awakened the seeds that had been lying dormant within me.
I am speaking only for myself here. But the existence of these places appears to be common knowledge here. Still, you hear the same thing again and again:
“But I don’t believe in it.”
It is believed that every person can find their own Chardakam written on these palm leaves—even though the leaves were often written centuries earlier.
Today, I am in India, and I feel the same way Mr. Ritter did.
I have to experience it with my own eyes.
I am not here only because of my German course.
Not only because of Naina’s wedding.
I am also here because the fascination of the palm-leaf libraries is pulling me too strongly to ignore it.
The material distractions of life are all well and good, but they are temporary.
Experience, however, is not.
Consciousness is not.
I am not interested in learning what will happen in my life.
I am searching for something greater: an expansion of consciousness.
And when I experience it, others will be able to experience it through me as well.
But the subject is not quite that simple.
You have to be in the right place at the right time, precisely when your own palm leaf is available. It is not as though you can simply drive to the supermarket and buy a carton of eggs.
You have to be worthy of this moment.
At least, that is how it feels.
Whether I am ready will become clear over the next few days.
The foundation has been laid, and the necessary preparations have been made.
Now only one question remains:
Will my palm leaf be there on the exact day that I visit?
All of this is going through my mind when I receive Aunt Liese’s message containing the predictions from the palm-leaf library.
It fits this moment—and my path—almost too perfectly.
So I find it fascinating, and I listen.
And more than what it says about the global situation, it is Mr. Ritter’s closing words that give me something to think about:
“The entire situation we are currently experiencing is the result of the past several years. Not only the years since the coronavirus period, but a long time before that as well.
If you decide to hand your own power and your own abilities over to institutions or to the state—or if you choose not to empower yourself—then, naturally, you should not be surprised when others believe they have to think for you and tell you how to act and how to live.
That is what we are experiencing right now.
And regarding the current conflicts in the world, whenever you look at all the chaos out there, you should always ask yourself:
Who benefits from the chaos?
The ancient Romans already did this.
Cui bono?
If something benefited them, they did it. If it did not, they left it alone. Perhaps we should remember that again and truly begin questioning the situation:
Who benefits from the chaos?
And when we look at certain agendas—for example, Agenda 2021, Agenda 2030, Agenda 2045, and so on—I can only recommend reading them.
It is simply about creating the greatest possible amount of chaos.
It is about making people so uncertain that, eventually, they become so tired and worn down that they begin begging for a strong sovereign to come along and take care of everything for them.
And then an order can be created out of that chaos, exactly as planned in those agendas.
Or, in their words:
You will own nothing and still be happy.
First, we will take everything away from you. Then you will be allowed to rent it back from us. You will pay for it, and then you will be happy. We will make sure of that.
Is that the future we want?
It is in our hands.”
It's not about what others want to do with us.
It's about what we let others do with us.