I met the Archangel Michael, a homeless man named "Bruce"
Posted: Thu Aug 30, 2018 3:22 am
Hello all,
I am new here. I didn't know where to turn to for some guidance on a situation that has been a subject of great interest to me lately, ever since I chanced upon the Archangel Michael in the form of a homeless man by the name of "Bruce" in Harvard Square, Cambridge, MA. In looking for some answers to the questions on my mind, I found this forum and it seems appropriate for me to post this here. So, here's my story:
July 5th or 6th, 2018, I was walking around Harvard Square - an area familiar and dear to me, I used to go there quite frequently when I was in school at Lesley University several years back - just looking to entertain myself on the street somehow, when I saw a man playing a bongo drum under an overhang, sharing the space with a few other homeless individuals. Always attracted to random acts of music performance in a social setting, I introduced myself, asking if I could jam along with the guitar on my back. The man was very welcoming, and introduced himself as "Bruce". I ended up spending the rest of the night through the afternoon of the next day in his company. He had eyes of an astonishing blue color. I have a terrible memory so I don't quite remember the content of our conversations, but they led me to see him as someone with an especially strong spark of divinity within. He eventually went on to tell me himself he was the Archangel Michael. I was so struck and awed by him that I ended up giving him one of my most important possessions, my "Miraculous Medal" of the Mother Mary as it was introduced to the world with Saint Catherine Labouré's help. I must admit there were some intriguing bits to our interaction that weren't so "orthodox", such as his offering up a joint that was quite welcome on my end and that I gladly shared with him, as well as a tab of acid I indulged in, although I remember being iffy about the tab - in my only other experience with acid I had a terrible trip due to the interactions between the drug and my prescription meds for bipolar disorder. I do remember expressing that to him before he offered a tab to me and each of one or two other individuals in our company. He had heard me out on that but seemed to think that the tab he gave me should be okay to take despite those circumstances. The trip went quite badly. I ended up smashing my phone and my guitar the next morning/afternoon before he was able to convince me to just go home to my parents. But before I left, he said to me, "Come back on Thursday." That much I remember very clearly, and as I walked away to make my way home to New York I yelled back that I would do so.
When I woke up the next day at my house in New York, I realized that it was Thursday. I wasn't sure if he had meant this Thursday - the very next day after his beckoning - or the Thursday that following week, or, as I got to thinking later on, a more spiritually significant Thursday, such as Maundy Thursday. But regardless, I needed to find Bruce. We had talked about getting a van and getting on the road - to do what, I'm not quite sure, though he talked about going back to Maine, where he belonged - and I felt ready to drop my former life to just follow and be with this man. He made that much of an impression on me. So upon realizing when I woke that it was Thursday and already starting to get late in the afternoon - it's a 5-hour drive to Boston from where I live - I decided to get on the road immediately to find him. I started packing my things - but soon my mother saw me in a frenzy, and as I had been riding a manic episode, wanted to make sure I went to see my psychiatrist. I was ready to just go back to Boston once I had all my things ready, so she and my father, with the help of the local police, got me to go see my psychiatrist. My psychiatrist did not deem me ready to go anywhere at all, and having decided me sufficiently manic and potentially dangerous to go to a hospital, I got checked in to the mental ward at a nearby hospital and was forced to stay for two weeks.
Due to all of this, I was very disheartened, and not wanting to further worry my parents about my condition, I decided to stay home and stick it through our planned vacation in France before doing anything about this situation or going back to find him.
It's now been almost two months since I met Bruce, and I am simply at a loss for what to do. I can't let go of hearing him say "Come back on Thursday", and I am extremely disenchanted with not having been able to follow through with that request.
What am I to do about this?
Thanks for reading through this and your helpful comments.
- Sébastien
I am new here. I didn't know where to turn to for some guidance on a situation that has been a subject of great interest to me lately, ever since I chanced upon the Archangel Michael in the form of a homeless man by the name of "Bruce" in Harvard Square, Cambridge, MA. In looking for some answers to the questions on my mind, I found this forum and it seems appropriate for me to post this here. So, here's my story:
July 5th or 6th, 2018, I was walking around Harvard Square - an area familiar and dear to me, I used to go there quite frequently when I was in school at Lesley University several years back - just looking to entertain myself on the street somehow, when I saw a man playing a bongo drum under an overhang, sharing the space with a few other homeless individuals. Always attracted to random acts of music performance in a social setting, I introduced myself, asking if I could jam along with the guitar on my back. The man was very welcoming, and introduced himself as "Bruce". I ended up spending the rest of the night through the afternoon of the next day in his company. He had eyes of an astonishing blue color. I have a terrible memory so I don't quite remember the content of our conversations, but they led me to see him as someone with an especially strong spark of divinity within. He eventually went on to tell me himself he was the Archangel Michael. I was so struck and awed by him that I ended up giving him one of my most important possessions, my "Miraculous Medal" of the Mother Mary as it was introduced to the world with Saint Catherine Labouré's help. I must admit there were some intriguing bits to our interaction that weren't so "orthodox", such as his offering up a joint that was quite welcome on my end and that I gladly shared with him, as well as a tab of acid I indulged in, although I remember being iffy about the tab - in my only other experience with acid I had a terrible trip due to the interactions between the drug and my prescription meds for bipolar disorder. I do remember expressing that to him before he offered a tab to me and each of one or two other individuals in our company. He had heard me out on that but seemed to think that the tab he gave me should be okay to take despite those circumstances. The trip went quite badly. I ended up smashing my phone and my guitar the next morning/afternoon before he was able to convince me to just go home to my parents. But before I left, he said to me, "Come back on Thursday." That much I remember very clearly, and as I walked away to make my way home to New York I yelled back that I would do so.
When I woke up the next day at my house in New York, I realized that it was Thursday. I wasn't sure if he had meant this Thursday - the very next day after his beckoning - or the Thursday that following week, or, as I got to thinking later on, a more spiritually significant Thursday, such as Maundy Thursday. But regardless, I needed to find Bruce. We had talked about getting a van and getting on the road - to do what, I'm not quite sure, though he talked about going back to Maine, where he belonged - and I felt ready to drop my former life to just follow and be with this man. He made that much of an impression on me. So upon realizing when I woke that it was Thursday and already starting to get late in the afternoon - it's a 5-hour drive to Boston from where I live - I decided to get on the road immediately to find him. I started packing my things - but soon my mother saw me in a frenzy, and as I had been riding a manic episode, wanted to make sure I went to see my psychiatrist. I was ready to just go back to Boston once I had all my things ready, so she and my father, with the help of the local police, got me to go see my psychiatrist. My psychiatrist did not deem me ready to go anywhere at all, and having decided me sufficiently manic and potentially dangerous to go to a hospital, I got checked in to the mental ward at a nearby hospital and was forced to stay for two weeks.
Due to all of this, I was very disheartened, and not wanting to further worry my parents about my condition, I decided to stay home and stick it through our planned vacation in France before doing anything about this situation or going back to find him.
It's now been almost two months since I met Bruce, and I am simply at a loss for what to do. I can't let go of hearing him say "Come back on Thursday", and I am extremely disenchanted with not having been able to follow through with that request.
What am I to do about this?
Thanks for reading through this and your helpful comments.
- Sébastien