My favorite exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City is the Egyptian Hall. One day, my friend, Stephanie and I decided to go down into the city to see the museum. Being the Egyptian exhibit is close to the entrance, we decided to stop there first.
A secluded hallway shoots off from the Egyptian temple leading to a room that is lined on either side with sarcophagi encased behind glass walls. I usually skip this room because while the detailed artwork is beautiful, it is also strangely eerie. For some reason though, my friend and I wandered down this way. We were the only ones in this area at the time. The dead silence and fixed gaze of unseeing eyes staring at you from every corner gave the place an ominous atmosphere.
I was standing near to the entrance and Stephanie was in the middle of the room when I suddenly tripped. I don’t know how this happened. There was nothing in my way to have caused this. My hand flew out to help me regain my balance, accidentally touching the wall. A dark presence rose up behind me. In my mind’s eye, I saw the image of a ten-foot temple guardian appear.
“I meant no harm,” I thought. “In fact, I’m leaving right now.”
Stephanie was as unnerved by my fall as I was and suggested that we get out of there. I didn’t feel right again until we left the exhibit. Later when I told her what happened, she said that she also felt something strange at the moment that I tripped. The rest of the museum visit was normal, but I have never forgotten that experience.
I am not the only one in my family to have an odd occurrence in the Egyptian exhibit at the Met. When I was young, my father worked as a security guard at the museum. One day, he was standing close to the immense stone statue of the Egyptian lion-headed goddess, Sekhmet. As he turned around, his mood ring clinked against the statue. When he looked down at his hand, the ring’s stone had turned black as coal. It never changed again.
The impression that I got of the entity made me wonder if there really wasn’t something to the old ways of worship and protection. I think we forget about ancient magic in our modern world, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t out there. This encounter also made me reexamine my thoughts regarding keeping another civilization’s artwork that doesn’t rightfully belong to us. The archeologists disturbed the sanctity of the Egyptian tombs, upsetting the spirits.
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2 thoughts on “The Ancient Ones”
Wow! I truly believe ancient spirits guard sacred spaces. Long time ago, around the 80s, the Smithonian Magazine ran a story about archeological excavations in a burial ground belonging to a tribe of American Indians. The Indian tribes had authorized the work, but very eerie sounds and strong winds prevented the exploration from taking place. The elders came to help and performed some rituals. It was only then that the excavations proceeded. The respect earned by this magazine for its objectivity and seriousness over the years made me a believer.
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Thank you for sharing this information, Lourdes! That’s fascinating.