CHAPTER XIV.

"I think I could, if I only knew how to begin." For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

Lewis Carroll          
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland          


{November 1994}

There was a large "beasty"—a mythical critter, with huge "haunches," but he stood upright; it was as if his legs were about 70% of his body. There is some mythical character I've seen, somewhere, that is similar to him, but I just can't think of what it is. His head (which seems very small on the body, and protruding forward, with the way it walks) was neat looking, it was tiny grey/black/white striped, fascinating, human but with a pronounced odd center of face... well I can't explain it, except that it vaguely reminded me of some jewish men I know. I've seen him a few times. He is terrifically sentient in a very different way than me. I thought he was really cool, though I didn't know what the heck he was.

I was in a large house with a blue swimming pool in the center, and many doors and windows. ... Then the scene changed, and I found myself in a completely different setting. A small group of people were there; I went into a room to be alone and to get some sleep, and had the feeling that somehow "I was him" now, I was the blonde-me. After awhile they found me in there, asking me if I wanted to go somewhere; I said no. A young, pretty, very blonde woman stayed with me. She watched me quietly, and it was obvious she knew me and loved me.

She closed the door and I walked slowly to her, pressed her gently up against it and kissed her; so light, and then kept kissing her, except very slowly, looking at her lips, her face, throughout, as if it were an experiment, kissing a girl, kissing her, pulling at the softness of her lips, looking into her very blue eyes, feeling the hardness of my (his) body press into the softness of hers. It was neat. After quite some time we pulled away a bit.

o0o

Then the dream changed again, became intensely 'real,' as if it were a different dream, or different kind of dream. There are three people and I. One woman who is definitely some kind of evolved royalty, extremely tall, strong, long dark hair, she is also 'me' somehow. A man who I recognize as the blonde-me fellow, that aspect of me. I couldn't see the other man well but I assumed he was the "fourth me."

We are being led by a very young man, a kid (who is officially a guide of some sort) through a large courtyard; the courtyard and walls around it are made of big grey rounded stones, and it's some kind of official place, very busy and filled with people, I had the feeling it was "a learning center."

He leads us toward the back, the opposite side from where we entered, and down a long stone hallway. He says clearly, You have the Egyptian Room. They brought this in just for you, very special. It's just like it was left, except for the windows. (I had the impression either windows had been added, or their placement had been altered, so that we would have light.)

We stop and to our left on the wall is a curtain, which he pulls back. Behind that is a huge, beautiful, ornate tapestry hanging over the wall; he pulls that back too. Behind it is a door, tall and wide, and it had four locks, which I interpreted as "A and B" like a deadbolt and then "A and B" a bit farther down like another one: two sets of two. Each member of our group had a key, which we put into the locks (I got one of the bottom bolts), and then we all "became one" and turned together, and I realized, Oh yes, it's the four in one thing and we're all me, I see, and we turned together and the door swung open.

I had a split second view of the room, which I realized was a room I'd been in, and in fact knew well. It seemed messy, as if left in a hurry or something out of the ordinary shook things up (the way an earthquake or war or other emergency might, not destroyed, just very dissembled) and my alarm went off. (If looks could kill, my alarm would be a small melted ball of plastic!) I always wake up out of that stuff feeling.... "reverent" is the closest word. Holy.

{November, 1994}

Speaking of the spiritual thing. There are either some weird looking entities lurking around or I have an amazing imagination! There's one guy who's brown, sorta like soft hide rather than skin, he reminds me of a horse or dog the way his face sticks out like horse or dog faces do but he doesn't look like that, he just reminds me of that, he's bipedal otherwise. There's that other who's huge and... well the face was grey with black stripes, small stripes with a beautiful design, cool looking, reminds me of the detail you see on some insects like tomato caterpillars, really gorgeous. He was way too human in the head for my comfort except the eyes... the eyes were a trip, like he was simply too sentient in a way different than me and looked at me and knew me — he was way smart, and wild.

I've met many others that I can't describe too well; they're just so far outside of what's familiar to me that my brain tends to forget the pattern the moment they're out of sight. I'm beginning to wonder if we really must see things a certain number of times before our mind can easily hold the pattern. Maybe that's why people don't remember meeting aliens or entities? It's too new? The eyes of these odd beasty guys always kinda freak me out. The word "feral" comes to mind... or just... way too intelligent for me to feel comfortable with.

The spontaneous insights into Egyptian and Qabalistic symbols continued. Considering that I had very little interest in either of them, I found the fact that I'd be experiencing this intriguing. I still have no idea what Egyptian symbolism, for instance, has to do with Aliens.

{Letter, November, 1994}

In the last couple of days, I seemed to have "grokked" a couple of obscure things. One is, it was explained (conceptually) that the human body functions as an Ankh, and the skull as the loop at the top. We do not need to "hold an Ankh" like a separate thing, like a tool or weapon; rather, we become it. (I had the impression that the Ankh, like the skull, could somehow "create a resonance" that would both echo in and focus through that shape.) What it's good for, of course, is beyond me.

Had a nice meditation, sort of (what does one call all these states of consciousness?). Three others and I (this is getting a bit repetitive, I must admit) were playing and talking and such. And I said Hey, it's you guys! Cool! Let's merge! And when we did, I was reminded of how the first time I consciously remembered them, I realized we had "every possible relationship" to each other. Then it was like these rays of light connected each of us to the other; and then we merged, but those rays were still there, even though we weren't really separate; and then it was like chakras below and above the body (I had forgotten some schools of thought mention those) merged together in these bright balls of light, one ball above and below us, and then all the connecting paths between us lit up, with certain bright spots, balls of light like our chakras, in certain places.

It felt very groovy, and as my perception pulled back a little bit so I could see us almost from the outside, I went Hey! We're that Tree of Life thing, in 3-D! I didn't realize that was connected to the subject. (Perhaps I'm coming upon obvious things that everyone knows, but they're fun nonetheless.) So perhaps the four of us really do "compose the universe," like my first impression gave me.

Now if I could just learn something constructive...

{Letter, November, 1994}

The other three did one neat thing when we were playing, before that. They went in a rhythm through different forms — beasts, humanoids, light beings, you name it, like they were showing me that they were many things on many levels. Which made me suddenly think, if I can exist on more than one level of consciousness or existence, who is to say each of my levels cannot also be more than one seemingly physical (or not) entity? That's a circle that could go on forever. Eventually we'd be everybody.

Getting to know them seems to be beneficial. They seem to be getting more casual, I meet them more easily (though they often change form), and they often find my immediate "Let's merge!" approach nothing short of riotous. (I'm glad I'm such entertainment. Sigh.) Maybe there is some kind of diplomatic relationship one is supposed to have prior to this announced desire, like buying your date dinner first. Still, they're nothing but wonderful, and leave me with love and spirit.

The work with them does not, however, compare with the bizarre surreality that surrounds some of my other experiences. Nor the "thickness" that surrounds being near the blonde guy who is somehow me (who may be one of the four, but these experiences are totally different than the normal places I encounter him alone). Nor the frozen in absolute awe of the glory of god of the fair guy I assumed was Archangel Michael or that of "my highest self." I talk as if, it's three other beings, that would include even the "highest," but although I sometimes get a tinge of awe some, it's usually just uplifting. Not like so awed I couldn't move even my eyes, as it was with the first fellow. So I don't know... maybe the highest of the four of us is someone other than the angel fellow.

Perhaps there's more to that sudden idea about them "being many things on many levels" and their reason for showing me that... maybe they really are "manifest" on numerous planes or whatever and when I recognize myself but I'm somehow someone else, I'm actually recognizing them-me. That would indicate I've been working with them for some time, but I suppose that shouldn't surprise me.

Occasionally I would have an odd, trance-like dream with vaguely UFO type symbology. They were obviously dreams, and yet... some of the threats in them seemed like I was supposed to take them seriously. It became more difficult to separate what part of things I should take seriously, or literally, and which I shouldn't. Everything got so confused, intertwined with each other, I couldn't be sure anymore where imagination, dreams, lucidity, astral body, physical body, shamanic experiences, alien experiences, or anything else began or ended. I felt like I was in some kind of stew being stirred, clinging to first one thing and then another, unsure of the solidity or relevance of any given component.

{November, 1994}

Weird dream. I woke up, calmly got out of bed, walked right through the wood of the front door, went like a zombie outside and I thought my car must not have had the brake on, because it was backed out into the parking lot outside its space, and levitated about 15 feet up in the air. But as I got closer to it, I saw that my car was where it should be, and so it had to be the car next to mine.

Then I and my car were in a huge room, like a commercial mechanic's garage of some sort. The manager was a total jerk, and I was trying to ask him nicely when I could leave, but he was yelling at me, like to shut up. So I kept saying something like, I gave him everything he asked for, now what was the problem? He acted as if I hadn't really held up my end of the deal, but I knew he was lying to me, trying to get more out of me. There were other guys working in the garage, standing around, and they seemed to feel kind of bad about it all, like they sympathized with me but couldn't say much 'cause they worked for him.

So then I tried to explain that all I really wanted was for him to call my boss and explain why I wasn't working, since I felt we'd been at the garage a really long time, like days, and I would get in trouble for not being at work and not calling. He was clearly exasperated that I wouldn't shut up. Moments later a phone rings, and I pick it up, and my boss says, Why aren't you here? And I say, Well you see my car—and he interrupts, Was done yesterday! He didn't believe my reason for being gone. So when I hung up I continued to bug the manager, that he simply had to work this out for me since it was all his fault.

And then there was this gum in my mouth, a neutral grayish color, it made it hard to breathe or speak especially, tons of it. I pulled a huge wad of it out until it broke from the rest in my mouth, and tossed it away, and there was still more, so I pulled more out, kept pulling it out, that part of the dream was physical-feeling.

The manager reached into the car and started it. (I pulled more gum out of my mouth.) Obviously disgusted with me, he indicated that I should get in and go home. Pulling more gum-stuff out of my mouth, I finally say, No, that doesn't mean you've fixed it or held up your end of things, I never said the engine wouldn't start! I continued to pull more gum from my mouth. Then I started thinking I couldn't possibly have that much gum and maybe I was injuring myself pulling at my tongue, maybe I was pulling layers of tongue off instead of gum, which in some way felt sort of rubbery like a tongue might....

Then I overheard someone spitefully telling my boss on the telephone, Well you know she's leaving you to move away. A long part I don't remember, and I was angry at their attempts to blackmail me in such a manner. They made it clear that if I continued to be a problem, they would tell people I knew something to make them mad at me, I mean in their dreams. That's all I remember.

"Convenient coincidence," as I called it, had been in my life for awhile, and continued. As one tiny example from around this time, I had gotten a new computer and wanted to give my old one to a friend in Phoenix. But I was working fervently during the weekdays and Saturdays (I was working a leave-notice for my position), and didn't have time to take off work, find a box and packing materials, and go someplace to send it off to her. I was thinking about this dilemma when the phone rang. It was that fellow T. who had been so nice to me during my rather bizarre "awakening" as his "walk-in" friends call it. He said that he was building an airplane, and was driving out to a place near me to pick up some parts in his truck, and he wanted to stay with me for a night before heading back to Phoenix. So, he could pick up the computer from my house, and deliver it to the door of my friend.

At the time he came to stay, I had already moved my belongings up North, and had almost nothing in my apartment except a queen-sized soft mat I slept on, on the floor. So he slept with me there. We talked until late at night and he began stroking my skin. I figured he was making a pass at me, and since I was ambivalent, I said nothing and didn't respond much for a little bit. Then I had the oddest feeling. My first sense was that "there was something alive inside my body." It developed until it was more specific. It was if something totally solid, long and tubular and vertical-ish, and about as thick as my wrist, was weaving slowly around in the lowest part of my torso. It was so amazingly physical, and it seemed impossible that anything could be that "solid" within me. As if the molecules of the thing, and myself, would have to be moving between each other, to allow two solid objects to exist in the same space. It frightened me a little bit, as it felt so powerful.

As it moved around, my mind suddenly clicked on a pattern: it reminded me of some film clip I must have seen of those east Indians who charm snakes with a flute. It seemed just like that snake. I realized that this must be what some call "Kundalini" energy. I almost laughed; the whole comparison to a snake is not merely symbolic. It felt exactly as if a strong, powerful (constrictor-type) snake was coiled up tightly inside me, at the bottom of me, and was gradually uncoiling upward. But my awareness of it was more than just physical, and the "strength" of it (energy-wise) still frightened me, even after I recognized what was likely happening.

I told T., "There is something alive inside my body." He is not a yoga expert by any means, and I don't know if he knew what I was talking about. He thought he was responsible though, apparently. He told me this story of how "someone" had been "revising his arm" so that it could "channel more energy." He said the process had been very painful, had gone on for months, and wasn't quite finished. There did not seem to be anything physically wrong with the arm, it was merely that the entire thing ached terribly, as if the bone itself ached, and as if all the nerves ached. Whatever the case, it did seem as if there was some energy in me invoked by him, and I both craved more of it and yet feared it. My morality getting the better of me , I decided we'd just go to sleep.

Later I wrote my friend who was said to be involved for many years in Kabbalah studies and tantra. I thought it was a truly amazing experience and probably had some great significance. He just laughed, "Palyne, you were horny!" I had never experienced that as part of "desire" before, though. (And as of Nov. 1995, haven't since.)

o0o

I don't know if dreaming about deserts relates to the Egyptian symbology or not.

{November, 1994}

In the desert sand, we defended ourselves against some people that were like automatons, very tough, genetic but also artificial. Then we were in a place with them... some of them had children. Their children required this blue injection for some reason. We raised them with ours, to be nice, and told the others how their kids were very strong... it was apparent by the way they moved they were faster, quicker, than our humans. At some point ours were getting so slow, and I wondered about it, and then I told the doctor that it was the injections, it had to be, they were making them (the semi-artificial kids) mildly psychic and they were draining our kids, not so much an evil thing as a natural thing, our kids were a ready source of free energy for them to feed off.

So we began giving our own kids the injection, and the kids all promptly got into a major fight. But I said, you see the change already, they're stronger, they're more equal.

Then scene shift: There was a woman with a key inside her tummy, she was part machine somehow, and I needed to kiss her there to cause this little place to open up with a click and give me the key... there was more having to do with how we got keys and such from the non people that just looked like people.... then there was a scene where there were two of our guys with a semi-robot guy in the middle, coming up behind me in a hallway, and I turned and immediately shot them all. It turned out to be a good thing I'd reacted so quickly, they were ultra "bad guys."

Well I finally gave in and watched a movie about abduction. Thank god I didn't relate to it very much. I was both hopeful and afraid that I would. Perhaps some of these experiences lose something in the Hollywood translation...

{Letter, November, 1994}

Dad rented me that movie "Fire in the sky" tonight, The Travis Walton Story so it's called, he'd wanted me to see it, after my talking about this stuff. I'd seen Travis on a UFO show and he'd said a couple of things similar to my own experience, so I was tensed to relive a trip with the movie. I had finally got my nerve up to see it.

But oddly enough, I didn't see anything in there that was very familiar. The gel, well vaguely... but the gel I've encountered is different, it's blue, and I think you breathe it somehow... has something to do with transport or transfer is my guess, perhaps like how deep sea divers breathe liquid. It's actually kind of soft and thin yet gelatinous, the softness provides this very odd dry-feeling even though it's a liquid — it's not sticky-gooey like in the movie. (Ick.)

And I've certainly encountered no corpses in it like he did in the movie. How totally gross! I mean I once felt my body was mushy when I was floating in the gel, but not... rotting, like... how disgusting. The white soft walls, I remember those, but they weren't like tiny bug larva shells, gods that is so completely revolting. They were just walls, that were... soft. It's kind of like, all those things I've seen, but not in remotely as gross a fashion. It's like somebody took the components of my own scenario and then created a nightmare version of the story.

The surgery scene, or whatever it was, didn't make a lot of sense to me, but it was a 3rd hand version of something probably remembered like a nightmare, so I can see it would be lacking some... linear cohesiveness. I remember nothing along those lines, but I admit that I could be completely spacing out anything that isn't enjoyable as a memory.

The red craft thing is familiar from the experience when I was 8 although I don't remember anything about entities from that event, I only remember seeing it.

Anyway, so it's taken me a long time to psych myself up into watching it. I'd thought since he mentioned the humans — to me, real humans (as opposed to those who I sort of "assume" are human without really seeing them very well, or who are externally disguised as such) are generally the large blondes — and the mask (like a clear oxygen mask without tubes), that since I had encountered those items as well, that whatever the movie was about, there would probably be revelations. I expected to have all sorts of new memories and be really amazed by it all.

I'm... ambivalent to say there wasn't. Glad as hell because he obviously had a terrible time up there, I'm glad we didn't have more in common! But bummed because I thought maybe it would give me some conscious clues, or additional information about things, a different perspective than what I got.

I must say though, their method of putting him back simply sucks. I've had nothing even close to that kind of horrifying treatment. Even when I've been a prisoner (more than once), and even when I've been quickly bested by one of the blondes (who are just a tad too enthusiastic about that), that's not the same as torture and being dumped naked out the door days later with no memory, I mean I really feel for the guy.

I was kind of upset at the idea of the corpse, only because in my experience, nobody has ever died. Not in that scenario, anyway, I don't know if the morphing black-triangle experience counts, that seems too dreamy to be "real." I have maintained until now that they (whoever "they" are) may have (as some insist) their own agenda for which human DNA may be necessary, but human death really isn't something I'd ever even considered. I mean I just fully realized a short time ago that this stuff is completely physical. To "up the voltage" to something like death being involved really... upsets me. I don't want to believe that.

Well in any case, it only confirms my growing belief that there are far more "entities" out/in there, all, possibly, with their own agenda, method and point of view. Obviously the folks Travis met didn't make him feel like family, teach him geometrical languages or star systems et al, which leads me to believe we must be on some totally different wavelength. Though I admit, the guys he described probably haven't taught me that. The blonde-me, who may or may not be part of the "blondes" in general, teaches me a lot. Sometimes acts like a big brother, as if he likes me but I'm not equal to him, and he's occasionally exasperated to have to be dragging me around, but he's ok. I don't know who's teaching me the conceptual stuff, but I don't think it's the Blondes/ Greys/ Bugs group.

(The bugs, however, are likeable; friendly and down to earth, talking to me on my level without making it obvious they're "stooping" to meet me because they're far more advanced mentally; they act like they know me well, and I meet them often, though I have such a psychological problem with their appearance I often either forget, or don't "see" them while we're talking.)

It seems like, if there are one or more species experimenting or whatever they do, that there might be other species that would be more friendly to us (or, at least, share a common enemy with a more hostile species). Of course this is acting as if earth 3D politics are the same everywhere, but if that turned out to be the case, it would be worth looking into who might be beneficial to our species.

I would think the trouble would be the infamous human prejudice of they all look alike to me. Just because one fellow who is grey or a bug or whatever seems to be a "bad guy" because somebody remembers something bad (and some people seem to think merely being "there," let alone held captive for a bit, is "bad," but I don't assume that) doesn't mean that everything that color or description is. The conflicting stories may be part of the confusion in this field. Sometimes people have positive experiences and others say they've been programmed, or it's disinformation... well maybe, but maybe it was just a positive experience! Sheesh, not everybody is the same.

The long and short of it is, I still don't have a "who" to assign to any of the wide range of "Beings" I've met, and at this point, the "horror stories" are still outside my experience. Thank god.

As it turns out, there's a camp that disbelieves the Walton story. That's not surprising: there are people who make a living doing little more than running around, pointing at anybody with a story along these lines and shouting "Liar!" (I find it interesting that taking money for a personal account is thought of as a crime, when "debunkers" make plenty of money without accusation.) I felt disconcerted when I heard there'd been such an effort made to discredit him. OK, so I don't need to defend him, I wasn't with him, I can't back his story.

But how could he possibly have the same details in his experience as I had, so many of them, when I hadn't heard his story, if he made it up? Are all these things somehow common knowledge that I'm just not aware of? His story was such a shock to my system, and such a validation of my own experience on another level, that I feel ambivalent and disturbed at the very idea that either his story isn't true, or more likely, that he's just become such a target. I'm not sure how that makes me feel in either case.

Will I become that kind of target if I choose to publish something? What motivation could there be for somebody making up such stories? I mean people say money, but contrary to popular belief, selling one book doesn't make that much money, not unless you sell a bazillion, and in a niche market I bet that's rare. For that matter, I was making far more money before I took the time to write all this — it's been far more harm than help to me on that front, and I'm not planning to publish this, but if I were hoping for that, I tend to see the chance of actually getting published pretty darn slim anyway.

To make matters worse, my writing an account like this, and in such a casual way, will probably wipe out any chance I'd ever have at being a "serious writer" and writing on any other subject. All in all, other than getting my story out there as a case study for anybody interested, I don't see much benefit in any of this, and if people act toward me the way they have toward many with these accounts, it'll probably be far more harm than help. As for notoriety, I could well do without being thought of as a hallucinatory idiot by half the world, thanks very much. I'm certain it wouldn't help a business career in the slightest.

o0o

Physical symptoms continued all throughout my development. The early symptoms, the problems with time and space and objects, these still recurred, in an almost cyclical series. I had grown used to ignoring them, however.

{December, 1994}

My head feels funny. I keep having these areas of pressure, especially right around the top, the crown area, and other areas... like there's a physical growth or pressure from the outside scalp all the way to inside the upper brain. Sometimes it feels as if a finger or stream of physical energy is actually being put through my crown. Similar (but not as intense) to when they "fixed" my knee. ML says this is "my chakra opening." It's sort of painful... but I'd be happy to suffer any pain, should it be necessary, for the potential of evolution. I just don't see why it should be.

o0o

I was showing L. a fractal screen saver at work today, it was doing the groovy things they do, and suddenly I realized it relates to the four in one identities merging.

Coincidence, though: went to the bookstore tonight to try to find a book for C. I couldn't find it. It's pathetic that they have 12 shelves of new age, more of self help, psychology, metaphysics and magick and no Seth, and little if any Crowley. Talk about missing the obvious. 1200 badly rehashed versions of what's already been said, but the leaders are nowhere to be found. Anyway, I was in the science section and I just wigged out! I looked at this book title that says "Fractals," a couple others on the subject, grabbed them all, and all but ran from the store before I could buy anything else.

The sudden obsession caught me by surprise — I swear I nearly bought every book in the section, I wanted to just "osmosis"ly grok every bloody book in the math, physics, astronomy and science sections, I don't know what came over me! —it was like an adrenaline rush. When I got home, I looked through one of the fractal books with color pictures. They have neat photos of the different "common" sets. My education didn't include the subject. I had no idea there were so many kinds, the only kind of "fractals" I've seen are the kind on computer screen savers (mandelbrot, I think those are).

Then I get to this one that's a picture of three different colored curled lines (um.... like a stretched out slinky? I don't know what word to use to describe that "coil", I haven't seen that kind of "fractal" before) that all meet together and then go into seeming "chaos." (Sierpinski points, I think it said they were called, not that this means anything to me.)

And intuition (I think it was the voice I call "The Narrator") said something like, There's another of the 4 in 1 you referred to. Give them time together in a proper setting and they will eventually resonate together, just like the four light-color beams did that you were shown, and instead of looking like a random spirograph [subthought: it is not messy and random, they are actually interacting with each other like a dance, and it will have eventual oneness resolution, just like the seemingly separate personalities on this planet will -end subthought], they'll synchronize like clocks, and spin together into a vortex just like the example you were shown did.

It was just like the "how it worked" I was shown that morning after the vibration experience. But what a trip! — and give me a break anyway, I'm glad none of my immediate friends are physicists or I'm sure they'd disillusion me. Anyway, I have no clue what the Narrator's talking about, but it was an interesting idea.

{December, 1994}

I know I dream lately, and I do some interesting things while "asleep," but I can't remember them. I do remember thinking this morning while it was still dark, "Yup, I just lost that memory, I'm not ready to deal with all that stuff I just understood, so I won't be able to remember it for awhile." So I'll just assume I'm doing something constructive. Sigh. That bugs me.

Over time, I tried to communicate about this subject with various people. My favorite skeptic was invariably quite blunt in his questions. I was sometimes defensive. He has a point, though: there is very little that I experience, I suppose, that means anything to anybody but me.

[Letter, December, 1994]

<<I would be curious at any real information exchange which takes place. And I mean real information, not spiritual vibrational energy mumbo jumbo, that everyone else comes back with.>>

What passes for valid and meaningful in the daytime, like color, often seems completely irrelevant in the dark. Relevance can only be measured subjectively by where you are and what you need. Does "real information" have to be some kind of accurate stock market prediction?

My impression is most of them don't give a rip about our "reality" and have no cause that I've seen to want to "prove themselves" to us — just the opposite, if anything. They are focused and interested in what they are doing with you and they don't care about anything else.

As for the last part, I think you need to back up a bit and remove "spiritual" from "vibrational," because it's clearly making you prejudiced about the subject. Vibrational is physics, as much or more than religion. The fact that we don't know much about it yet, and can't translate it worth a damn, doesn't mean it's invalid.

I dunno. I think making my experience clear to others is hurt more by lack of communication ability than by lack of interesting experience. Put the blame for the lack of proper communication and documentation (at least of subjective experience) where it belongs: on our lack of ability to communicate about something new to us. Not on the lack of existence or "validity" of what we're learning to communicate about. When we get the perception and communication down better, we can analyze the contents better, but for now, finding a common language is necessary before any real study can be done, and this consists of dragging all the components into a pile, all the input, and then sorting through it to see what pieces fit together.

Invalidating something because the piece by itself appears to have no "Real Effect On Consensus Reality" as you have put it is simply illogical — we don't know enough about the whole picture to know what piece something may or may not play in "consensus reality." At this point I seriously doubt we're even fully aware of what consensus reality really is.

Even the clearest stuff is often a bitch to translate. Much of it is conceptual and it just flat out doesn't translate into 3D terms. It's not that the two just don't work well, it's not even a matter of "roughly translating," it's a matter of "not remotely applicable." And because our conscious minds work mainly on linear logic in the 3D world, it means that consciously, often even I can't integrate it on "this reality" level. Sometimes it's clear and linear and logical; usually it's conceptual and difficult or impossible to translate; sometimes it's so far beyond what my conscious mind is trained to recognize that I only know "there's information and understanding there" but I can't begin to pull it up.

I wish it were conveniently packaged for human perusal. If it were, this subject wouldn't be a mystery at all. Initially I invalidated everything for this very reason: either it was physical, or it was in the head, and in the head was all very nice for experience but was completely irrelevant to anything or anybody else. But I finally felt forced to conclude something along the lines of "When in Rome..." and have accepted that while I can't assign experiences a firm "This Is It" description, since even I'm not sure what the hell is going on half the time, I will accept, until I find otherwise, that the effects of all this stuff are simply not what humans easily understand and communicate.

And that's not good or bad, not valid or invalid, and it doesn't mean any of it is cosmic or even interesting, it just appears to be the way it is.

{Letter to me, December, 1994}

(quoting me) >>What do you think? Would it be better for people to peruse the stories of others, whether personal or researchers, even if it might influence them, just to better understand what's already happened and/or will happen? Or should people like me try to live in a cave away from the subject lest we be 'influenced' into an event that loses its... well, objectivity? (As if there were much of that in any experience to begin with...)<<

For the last five years or so I've read everything I can get my hands on about UFOs, aliens, abductions, and other related and semi related issues and events. This ranges from the nuts & bolts investigations on to tales of abductions, communions, space brothers, human eating reptiles, and your own "weird stories" (pat. pend. <grin>).

I am amazed at the amount of written material out there, and, at first with no background of experience I had nothing to compare to, so I took everything at face value. Over time, with more data to work with and more interactions with intelligent persons such as yourself, I've begun to filter what I read into various very loosely defined categories. The nuts & bolts events have definite physical associations. The sighting that got me involved again in all this was a very physical nuts & bolts type craft.

Your stories would be much less believable to me if I hadn't developed a "feel" for you as intelligent and responsible, and if they were not reinforced by other intelligent and responsible people as our friend P. and hundreds of others reporting from around the world.

Certain things I read just do not fit into my belief system (expanded though it has become). I don't worry much about people eating reptiles, underground aliens, demons, and such, because I have no experience with them. To other people, some of whom I respect, they are very real aspects of their lives. This whole topic covers such a diverse group of experiences and phenomena that it is hard to classify what is real and what isn't, what is believable and what is a crock, what I should pay serious attention to and what I should simply ignore.

I think that a landing site with burns and physical indentations is every bit as interesting as what you report in your weird stories. It is much easier to photograph and take samples from the landing site than it is to get a reliable scan of your memory... however. So, should I accept the landing trace as proof of actual 3D visitors? Should I reject your reports as fantasy? Some people make just that judgement.

But, then, the problem arises: If it is an actual landing site, who landed? What do they want? What are their plans? If they're really here, who are they visiting? Who are they abducting? Who are they educating? What's their agenda?

These questions are what led me to read books that I might not otherwise have read. It's at this point that the tales become much more subjective and much harder to verify. I've read some people's accounts and they tend to change over time to match the current zeitgeist. Others tell stories that are remarkably consistent over time.

I think you need not worry about reading influencing you and leading to your unconscious confabulation. You are a discriminating person and I don't have any reason to believe you are less critical of your reporting in weird situations than I would of your year to date summaries and any business decisions you might make based on those figures.

In fact PJ, I think you probably have a great ability to synthesize disparate information and I'd welcome your input on other issues if you'd just get a few books and read them.

{Letter, December, 1994}

<<...in the latter case I would like to see if ancient methods of protection work. Again I am trying to tie occult teachings to UFO visits. Comments?>>

I haven't felt too big a need for protection, so I don't know. When I decided I absolutely could not deal with them for awhile, I told them so. Once I figured out how to communicate while still "here" so I had some control over it (something I learned by necessity when I was accidentally injured by them and needed to get them to repair me), I told them, and they seemed to be ok with it. When I told them I couldn't take it for awhile, my experiences (at least that I remember) fell off drastically.

Recently I decided I was ready to deal with it again. Within a week I was back to my old pattern... can't sleep, won't sleep, pace, do anything to avoid sleep, am tense, obsessive and insomnic despite exhaustion, it's like being afraid to sleep, even though I am not remotely afraid at any conscious level and in fact feel happily ready to jump back in again. It's almost as if my subconscious, or perhaps my body's influence on my subconscious, has tremendous fear. But consciously, I have none, I'm looking forward to it. That part confuses me.

<<Are your communications 2 way, or are you just receiving?>>

Which communications? Many experiences, many entities, many approaches. Both have been addressed. I'm not a channel, and nobody's pulled me aside to give me any "Cosmic Insight." Dammit. The least they could do is give me the Lottery numbers.

<<Indeed. Like look at the Urantia Book.>>

Thanks anyway. I stubbornly refuse to read that damned book. An acquaintance of mine lives in this bizarre and dark theology woven by that book. Otherwise he seems sane. Objective psychology: paranoid schizophrenic tendencies. But shit, we're all schizo or this wouldn't be happening to us, right? Perhaps being schizoid is not so much a disease as the symptoms of a badly handled experience.

Understand that not long ago did I even open up to talking about UFO's; only a few months ago did I connect that I had anything to do with them currently; and right now I'm in the middle of the first book about abduction I've ever read (Jacob's "Secret Life"). (I've read a bit of Sitchin's first book, but to me this is a different genre.) I know I should read it, and many other books. I'm beginning. I'm just... in denial.

Mostly, though, I am trying very hard not to further confuse my poor imagination with data. For instance, if I have an experience, I can accept this at face value no matter how outrageous. It doesn't mean I assign it any level of validity. It merely means I accept it in the manner one accepts a strange poem or an artistic movie; no judgement, more an open "impressionist" reaction.

When I later hear someone mention the oxygen mask thing, I can freak a little but validate my own experience. When I hear people describe an entity like a tall dark bipedal preying mantis [telepathic to boot], I can validate this, though with humor of course! When I hear of the sweetness some feel for the Greys and how fragile they are, even though the something that felt like that with me didn't look like a grey to me (usually some "skinny mutant grey animal" is how I see them, or as skinny people or children), I felt the same way and I can half validate this. When I describe something in a letter to a friend as "like blue jello" and I just read where an abductee uses those same words even! — I can validate this.

Whatever it is, even if it's some mass psychology thing, I can grant that there is some "validity" to my experiences by the echoes I find in other people's stories. But if I read the books, and see one of these items, and then encounter it, I'll invalidate myself. I think I've had such a subconscious problem with the validation of myself and my own possible insanity that I haven't wanted to do anything to further confuse the issue of what is my imagination.

Considering that we haven't got far with the theories we've got, maybe we should wise up and seek out a few new theories. Maybe we've got the wrong paradigm altogether. Maybe the issue isn't the simple black and white of other autonomous identities vs. imagination. Maybe the issue is the developing ability of humans to mix their imagination with autonomous identities and get a third result.

I felt that was a pretty novel idea when I first thought of it, but I found out later somebody else thought of it first. He called it "imaginal." Not to be confused with imaginatory or false; sort of a "third realm" of existence.

Continue to Chapter 15


"Bewilderness" title and text are Copyright 1993-1998 by Palyne "PJ" Gaenir. All rights reserved. Feel welcome to send me email -- I always appreciate feedback.