First published privately in 1964 - now available in a new edition
On the days of the year when Eternity links with Time, traces of their special influence were reflected in MT's experiences. This is illustrated in these chapters which reveal the Eternal Calendar as the background of her life.
This small volume contains certain scripts which were taken down in automatic writing, and also some of Minnie Theobald's own notes and commentaries on the Festivals and Saints'Days of the year. The reader will be able to discriminate between her inner teaching receive direct, and her transmission of teachings in her own words.
About Minnie Theobald by Beryl Pogson
I first met Miss Minnie Theobald in the spring of 1948. We were both attending a Council Meeting of the Francis Bacon Society in South Kensington and stayed to talk afterwards with some of the other members. She told us that she had returned after the war from the West Country to her home in Ovingdean in response to inner instructions to write her Autobiography which she had now completed. She had thought that this meant that she was to return home to die, but she found herself, at the age of seventy-four, still very much alive. And indeed, I had never before seen anyone of that age who had such an air of youth and vitality and such a lively spirit shining through her dark eyes.
This was the beginning of a delightful friendship which lasted until her death in September 1958 at the age of eighty-four. We had many talks in London and it was not long before I went down to stay with her at "The Four Winds" in Ovingdean. She had begun to write a new series of automatic scripts on the mystery of dimensions, a subject which I had been studying for many years. I found the clear formulations in these scripts most enlightening. We would discuss them and my questions seemed to invite the scripts that followed.
Miss Theobald would write at night. In the morning she would type all that had been written, and then she would drive me into the country and on our return we would sit in her garden with its view of the Downs and the sea, or in her Sun-Parlour among the flowers, and read the scripts aloud and ponder on them. She was no recluse. Friends continually visited her, and she enjoyed her days in London. She was interested in all that went on, particularly in the life an welfare of the nation. At this time she was strong and active and had a most lively and penetrating mind.
In June, 1952 Miss Theobald had a haemorrhage and lost the sight of one eye. She recovered from this but had to lead a quieter life and stop driving her car. She was, however, able to continue her writing, learned to touch-type, and accepted the blow to her sight with complete equanimity. But she now began to feel her age and for the most part stayed at home, spending much time in her garden, and enjoying the conversation of her friends.
On her eightieth birthday Miss Theobald gave a party to all her friends, many of whom had once been in her Dance Groups. She had had privately printed a small booklet called Death and After for the occasion. She told us she had received inner information that the next four years were to be very difficult for her but that joy and peace awaited her when she reached the age of eighty-four. Now, the day of her birthday, January 13th, 1954, had been a very strange one. I had been staying with her. During the morning there was a violent thunderstorm, the electricity fused, and we were left in the dark with no possibility of cooking or heating except by means of a tiny oil-stove. Candles were lit and we spent a quiet afternoon in the darkness which continued. Then light and heat became once more available in time to prepare supper for the party. I felt at the time that this augured a year of shock, if not darkness, and this was borne out as that year she suffered a stroke which put an end to her automatic writing and she was obliged to live very quietly from that time until her death four years later. This was a very difficult period for her as she could no longer read, being now almost blind, and she missed the companionship of her inspirational writing from which she had continuously drawn her inner strength since her early youth.
Some year before she died she had asked me to take charge of all her writings in the event of her death and to publish her Autobiography first and the other material later. She had inner instructions that nothing was to be published in her life time, during which she was to remain in seclusion. She was a true mystic to whom it made no difference whether she were in or out of the body. During the eleven years of my friendship with her I had been a continual witness of a way of life lived on three levels of consciousness.