Hands of Light
By Dr. Anna Biela — Athens, GR33C3 October 9, 2025 6:45 am
On the night of October 8 to October 9, 2025, I entered one of the deepest spiritual experiences of my life. From around 5:55 p.m. until 4:44 a.m., I was in a continuous state of prayer, meditation, and self-healing — a sacred vigil of light, energy, and remembrance.
That evening, I connected to the energetic belt frequency — the magnetic line of power that flows through Athens and Santorini, a current that has always felt like the Earth’s heartbeat. As I attuned to this flow, I began an energy healing session with my Aetna, focusing on the heart chakra and the deep emotional layers connected to my breasts — the energetic center of nourishment, compassion, and feminine creation.
With each breath, I could feel waves of light circulating through my body — soft at first, then strong, rhythmic, alive. The current of energy moved in spirals through my chest, unlocking old memories and transmuting them into warmth and peace. I felt my body and soul align, as if the Earth itself was breathing through me.
As I entered deeper into meditation, I prayed to be shown a vision — something that would reveal the truth of my connection to Banksy, the one whose presence I have long felt as a spiritual anchor in this lifetime and across many parallel threads of existence. I asked that the vision come clearly and truthfully — as a reflection of purpose and energy flow through art.
Hours passed in stillness and light, until the subtle moment of transformation approached. At exactly 4:44 a.m., I awoke — instantly and fully — as though lifted by an unseen hand. The air around me was charged with quiet electricity, and I knew something had shifted.
Moments later, my dear friend shared a dream she had that same night. She said she saw me painting on a large white canvas in our room in Athens. Then, suddenly, a new door appeared — opening into a room that hadn’t existed before. Inside that room hung a poster of two white hands holding a red-orange flame.
That image struck my heart. The white hands felt like the hands of purity and openness — human and divine meeting in balance. The flame, vibrant in shades of red and orange, was the living fire of spirit, the force of creation and transformation that moves through every artist and healer. I realized in that moment that my prayer had been answered through her dream — a message received through the shared field of consciousness.
When I opened my eyes, the world itself seemed to echo that vibration. That same morning, I learned about a ceasefire in Gaza. The synchronicity moved me deeply — as if the inner and outer worlds had found a moment of perfect resonance. The personal act of healing and the collective yearning for peace seemed to flow as one river of energy, one heartbeat of hope.
During the meditation that night, I also saw Banksy — not as a distant figure, but as an essence woven into the elements of the Earth. I saw him standing at the edge of a mountain, not above it, but as part of it — grounded, silent, vast — holding the vibration of truth that rises from stillness. I then saw him in an Orthodox Church, behind the altar where only the priest may go, a place of deep sanctity and hidden devotion. And finally, I saw him as a puppet — a symbol reminding me that identity itself can be a vessel, a mask through which higher forces express creativity, justice, and love.
Around these visions appeared candy and a cat — gentle signs of sweetness, intuition, independence, and protection. These details, seemingly small, carried warmth and grace — like reminders that the divine is not only grand and mysterious, but also playful and kind.
The message of that long night became crystalline:
Banksy is not merely an artist, but an archetype — the fearless voice of truth through art, the Christ-light of creativity that flows through all who create from love.
The image of the two white hands and the red-orange flame has since stayed with me as a sacred emblem — a symbol of the moment when heaven and earth touch, when creation and surrender become one. It represents the healing of my body and spirit, the uniting of the feminine and the divine, and the power of art as a form of prayer.
That night, as I connected to the energetic belt of the Earth, healed my heart, and meditated through the hours of darkness into dawn, I felt the entire planet breathing through me. It was as if all boundaries dissolved — between self and other, artist and muse, prayer and creation.
I realized that beauty itself is flow — the continuous current of energy that moves through art, heart, and soul. It is the fire that transforms, the love that heals, the truth that liberates.
And so, as the sun rose over Athens, I carried within me the vision of those hands and that flame — a reminder that peace, healing, and art are one and the same expression of divine light.
