Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

I find myself at a disadvantage when it comes to marketing a spiritual book. I have no idea how most people feel about the necessity of knowing the purpose of our existence, here on planet Earth, let alone how to escape the endless cycles of reincarnation. I don’t even know how the desire for that gnosis ever percolates down to them.

It was never a casual enquiry for me. It was never just a ‘nice to have’. From the age of seven, I was a girl on a mission. I could find no way of living on Earth until I could discover why I was here. It took me quite a while to realise that not everyone was like that.

I was reading the gospels like they were science PhD papers, and quizzing the poor young woman who ran our Sunday School as to the purpose of human life. Her reaction, understandably, was to burst out laughing…and the rest of the class followed suit. I didn’t mind being an object of mirth. It just showed me where I was wasting my time, and I ticked them off my bucket list. Next!

I won’t bore you with the decades of ashrams and nunneries that I passed through after that. Fast forward… and it wasn’t until my 70th year that the dragons finally took pity on me, and decided to come and show me the vital component in the study of wisdom that I, and most people, were missing. Despite being a practising shaman for about 25 years, it wasn’t until then that my journey into enlightenment proper began.

I began writing The Way of the Serpent last November. At first, I just laid down everything I’d learned over those years, about how sacred sex is the path to immortality. By February, I had the bare bones of it written. But then the dragons started reading it. Then they began tweaking my understanding over certain passages and giving me life lessons that became whole new chapters in themselves.

Sometimes, they’d show me how I’d missed something that I already knew, that had been lost through the fragmentation of knowledge. Our minds are like the destroyed and pillaged Library of Alexandria, with the astronomy shelf on one side of the great hall, and the astrology shelf on the other. The physics books are in a complete other room to those on alchemy and sacred geometry, and the myths have been wrongly placed in the history section. So the dragons would remind me that I already knew certain things if only I’d bring it all together.

What was really interesting was when I started living the book.

The deeper you travel into the bright worlds of the serpent spirits, the darker your own shadows rise up to meet you. And you have to face them. This is what I call the ‘rollercoaster of the gods.’ It is not a design flaw—it is the price of admission to conscious immortality through love. So then each sentence became a fruiting of what I was learning experientially. As I was able to let go of my shadows and allow the serpents to guide me across certain thresholds, then new understanding would find its way on to the pages.

The final key to immortality came after I thought the book was finished. It had been proofread and typeset, and I was just about ready to publish when one of them made a “casual remark”. It sent me straight down a spiralling wormhole of numbers… and it wasn’t long before I came back, victorious, with the wyrm!

So I don’t want to use the ‘J’ word, but it really has been a journey…around the rollercoaster of the gods, on the ghost train and through hell’s gate until finally reaching the tunnel of love.

That was my journey of writing it… but I have no clue about what sort of journeys are made by those being brought to discover it and read it.

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