Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Getting more "meditative" as a result of my personal changes, I had arranged my schedule to have a little extra time every night where I could meditate or some such thing. I'm not disciplined in that, alas, so I usually just read a book.
Some time before, I'd gone looking for some books written by Aleister Crowley, since the magick folks said that was the stuff I needed to read. Couldn't find any in my town; lots of new age, but didn't find any magick. I ended up having to go into Los Angeles. I found a few books, and bought the Thoth tarot deck too. I'm not into tarot, know zip about it, but figured I may as well get what I could if I wanted to study the guy's stuff.
Finally one night I had the chance to look at the deck. I hadn't even opened the box yet. So I climbed into bed and sat up against the headboard, turned on the light to the right of me (on the nightstand) and opened the box. Started going through the cards, lying them aside on the nightstand when I was done. Since I don't know how one would do tarot (I'm uninterested in divinatory arts), I just looked at each card in turn, letting myself get a rather abstract "impression" of each card like it was an art form. (I really liked the one called "Adjustment" and felt it was "my card" if I had to choose one in the deck. I've heard new age types get into this and you know, everybody's the Empress or High Priestess or something. I was almost disappointed, ha.)
I was about done with the deck, and I was very relaxed, having been thoughtfully absorbing the cards for some time. I got to the instruction cards included with the deck at the back, and just as I was ready to put them on the bedside table, I saw this other card. It was nothing like the others. It was jet black, with a red shape on it. (It's called a "Unicursal Hexagram.") I'd never seen that shape before, and being in a meditative mood, it struck me as really interesting.
So I sat back and stared at the card, meditating a bit on it, letting my vision and imagination play with what part of the shape was in front, turning the card a bit gradually and seeing the different aspects of the shape come out. For quite awhile I looked at it. Since it's a geometrical shape, the refocus of your eyes eventually makes it seem like one part is closer than another, like 3D, it's interesting.
I finally got to where I could "grok it" in a fashion (have never done this with anything before), and for some reason I got the impression that somehow the shape "said," "Love is the law, love under will." (A famous quote from one of Crowley's books.) I was grinning at myself over that one of course, pretty silly, and finally I sighed and decided to go to sleep, since this "realization" must prove I was quickly headed for the dream state anyway.
So I put the card and instructions over on the nightstand to the right of me, and as I began to slide down in the bed I turned, propped on my right arm, and reached my left arm up to turn off the light. But just as my hand got to the switch on the lamp, I was hit by something best described as a "shock wave." Sudden but no specific "place" of impact. It stunned my whole body like a weapon might. I fell back into the bed, on my right side (toward the light), my right arm uncomfortably underneath me, motionless, dazed. I wasn't thinking very clearly suddenly; I was alert enough, but my brain was sort of in "shock" and wouldn't do much very fast. I was wondering what the heck happened and staring blankly at my bedside table.
Then the waves started. Maybe they were sound waves; in any case, the slow rolling vibration surrounding my body -- and inside my body as if it were my body that were vibrating -- was perfectly matched by a low-ish tone with slow vibrato. For about five seconds I thought, whoa, surely I'm imagining this?! Then the waves got stronger, even more physical, a little bit faster, and the tone's pitch rose just a little bit when the speed did, and it became so loud I began wondering, geez, can the guy next door hear this? It seemed as much outside me as inside me. It got stronger, harder, like my whole body was being shaken by the vibrato, and my body began to feel as if every single molecule in it was moving in time with it.
(Not as if your body were held by something and shaken, but rather, as if every independent molecule of your body was held by something and shaken. It reminds me of watching my hanging wine glasses swing during aftershocks. Although they're fragile, they all swing at the same time and so don't usually touch each other, very synchronized. That's how all the molecules in my body felt. One doesn't (or at least I don't) normally "feel their molecules!" -- I didn't even know one could! -- it's an interesting sensation.)
I compared it suddenly, as it was happening, with a scene from the movie Lawnmower Man, where he kills these guys by sort of "shaking them into marbles." It felt pretty much exactly like that! -- except... well, much smaller marbles.
The tone increased in pitch as the speed of vibrato picked up; still physically motionless and unable to move myself, I just lay there, as the sound got louder, and thicker, and my whole body shook at the root level faster, and the pitch got higher, and I began to feel like I was simply one with an "event" instead of a separate body from the rest of the world, and meanwhile I was also of course consciously thinking, "What the HELL is going on?!" and wondering why, when it felt as if my own atomic structure was shaking in time with the tone, my dazed open eyes staring at the bedside table didn't seem to notice any real difference. I told myself, you would think that if my molecules are shaking, my vision would be shaking too, at least that makes sense to me, but it's not. I realized dimly that my mouth was open and I was drooling, and then realized that seen from a distance I was probably catatonic or something... I wondered if I was supposed to be unconscious by now but wasn't -- was my lucidity (as usual) screwing things up? The sound got louder, the shaking got stronger, and the pitch got higher.
By this time the vibration was, I would guess, at a vibrato of about five beats per second (it began at maybe 2 beats per second), and I was certain that all my apartment neighbors could hear it through the walls. It got faster, and then faster and higher still, and the tone had gone from a very low note up to about a piano treble clef low D when something changed: suddenly the tone began doing scales, or something inexact but similar to scales, and started going WAY high, into the frequencies.
At which point I realized: Good grief! -- and I would have burst into laughter if I could have, it was hilarious -- it sounded, no joke, just like those really bad sci fi flicks of the 50's - 60's, that scale sliding vibrato! -- I couldn't believe it, I mean it was just too hilarious, and then I thought, Well criminy if anybody ever believed my telling them about this and then I said "Yeah and it sounded a lot like a science fiction movie" they'd die of laughter! I mean even while I was lying there, when that part started, all I could think about was how incredible that it sounded a lot like that, and how silly it was going to sound when I'd try to tell G. about it. I wondered if that sound "felt right" to the people making the movies 'caused they'd experienced something like this, maybe without consciously remembering it.
This was a "new" feeling though, the rate of increase in the vibration and vibrato became almost exponential, and I just lay there and experienced it, fighting as hard as I could to remain conscious, trying desperately to remain alert, because the temptation to just relax into the groovy feeling was strong.
It got even more intense, faster, so fast I don't think a synthesizer could duplicate that vibrato speed without making it seem a solid tone. I finally realized (a bit dimly, because to be honest, despite my tries at control, I was getting a bit overwhelmed by this point) that some part of me firmly believed that I was being, quite literally, "beamed" someplace. It sounded ridiculous even at the time, but I "knew" that's what it was, and I was determined to remain awake because dammit, I wanted to see, I hated this going unconscious abruptly at night and coming to in the dark morning hours, I wanted to be awake and know what was going on.
It was difficult because it was like my "consciousness" was being "pulled," but I clung fiercely to staying alert, and then basically, I couldn't really think anymore. The speed increased still more until it was almost as if I was still because I was shaking so fast (that doesn't sound like it makes sense, but it did to me), and it seemed like everything was heading for some kind of climax and then suddenly --
Nothing. Absolute stillness and quiet.
I don't know how long it was before I was able to neatly form a thought. It seemed like I had been lying there catatonic for some time. In fact I think the only reason I even came up to alert (I was awake, not asleep, but that doesn't necessarily mean one is "alert") is because my right arm, trapped under my body, hurt. I was at a bad angle because of how I'd fallen, and it was beginning to throb.
My eyes were still open, and after awhile I realized (it took some effort) that my mind wasn't working like it normally does. It was as if it was only taking surface thoughts, one by one, and it took a really long time to think something simple. I wondered if my arm was losing circulation and that's why it hurt, but even that thought required a lengthy process sort of like: arm hurt. throb. throb pulse. pulse blood. blood throb. throb hurts. blood hurts. blood problems. problem arm. blood arm. no blood... for arm. That's how hard it was to think, it probably took a full minute for me to get through a thought that normally would be a flash, microsecond realization. It was like there was no "conceptual" thinking at all, no "layers" of thought, no "cross associations," it was like somehow, only the very "surface" of my mind was doing the thinking, and all thoughts had to be simple and linear as a result.
Then I wondered, with no emotion at all, where the rest of me was. That didn't require deep thought: I just knew that a very large portion of me was somewhere else. After a bit I wondered, How could I be me? And the end result of a very long thought process was basically, "How could I feel like me if "I" am somewhere else? Shouldn't "I" be with the "me" that is elsewhere? Since it's obviously my body that's here and something less tangible (though it felt sort of half and half, oddly enough -- again, that "physical bilocation" impression like I often had) that had "gone somewhere," shouldn't the sense of "I- ness" be with that self, like in out of body experiences or something? Does the body have consciousness? Well it's said by some that mass is energy is consciousness, so the body would have some I guess even without an astral self, assuming such a thing exists... but... where's the other half of me?" The more I thought about it, the more I felt I was actually in two places, but I couldn't "connect" with the other me, or other place.
To be honest, although I had no real emotion, I had some sense of being rather annoyed. After all, I wanted to see, I wanted to be with the rest of me wherever it was because I was sure it had to be more fun than lying on the bed. And I was concerned; not scared, but a bit concerned mentally, about how I could be two places at once -- and mostly about how "I" could be here, instead of elsewhere, as usual. I could easily relate to the idea of OBE's, like being "elsewhere from the body," but being in the body and seeming to have the rest of you be somewhere else is a whole different story. I was unsettled, because frankly the idea had just never occurred to me, and I felt a real sense of confusion and loss.
I wondered if moving my body would "call the rest of me back." I wasn't sure if I could move. I had this intense superstition that it was a terrible idea, that I needed to stay absolutely still.
The problem was, my arm hurt. It was getting more intense, and though my mind felt like a "shell" instead of the "full real thing," I could still feel the pain of my body and I wanted to move. But I had a strong sense I should not.
I became aware of how shallow my breathing was. I was barely breathing at all. My body was absolutely still, but the discomfort in my arm was growing. I finally realized that the "compulsion" to NOT move was so strong that it wouldn't matter if my arm all but fell off, I wasn't going to be able to get myself to physically move, so I might as well try to concentrate on something else, to distract me from the pain.
And this is sort of embarrassing, but I was actually getting rather bored. My brain wouldn't work properly, and thinking was like having to read a sentence so slowly that the impatience makes you crazy. So, since my eyes were open and my nightstand was in my range of central vision (I hadn't even moved my eyes), I tried to focus on the cards lying somewhat scattered (I think I must have hit them with my hand when falling, though I don't remember that), but my eyes would only partly focus, not completely.
The impression I had at the time (though not in these words of course) was that focus is somehow not just a biological thing, but is actually a matter of perception in a multi-level psychological manner, as if, the reason I couldn't focus wasn't because my eyes weren't doing it, but because I didn't have the "conceptual" brain abilities available right then to "accept" the input data.
I laid there a bit more, unable to sleep because of the pain, unable to move because of the impelling not to. Suddenly, my body took a huge breath. All by itself! It didn't ask me, and I had nothing to do with it, and it feels really weird to have your body do something you don't tell it to on any level! And this sounds ridiculous but it's the only way I can describe it -- I "breathed myself back in." As I did this, as it was happening, my conceptual abilities obviously were back, and I realized: this is exactly what I've seen so-called deep trance channels do. (I guess this lends a bit more credence to channeling -- or at least an experience that some choose to call that -- from my point of view.) I realized, "I'm back! I'm all me again!" Though all the parts of me which were now just the new "me" still didn't seem to know where that one part had been.
I rolled over onto my back, used my left arm to pick up my right arm which was limp and paralyzed (it had been asleep), realized the "pins and needles" were going to hit in a minute or so, turned off the light with my left hand, scooted down in bed, and within maybe one second of my head hitting the pillow I was unconscious.
I woke up early the next morning, later than usual, not the standard 4:30am but hours later, and I felt good. I was in a remarkably happy mood. I remembered the events of the night before with a sense of minor awe, and then I remembered the vibrato scales and was amused all over again. To this day it still just seems so hilarious that it would sound like a bad sci-fi flick. I rolled my eyes at myself and giggled, lying there feeling almost unreasonably happy. Then I wondered, Good god, what was that anyway?! And it all "unfolded" in me, like a spontaneous memory that includes a lot of data.
The understanding I have of this doesn't seem to make much sense (but since then I've encountered versions of this from different angles). In any case, this was the "scene" I remembered of the understanding:
There's this object.. I don't have words to describe it, the shape or definition, so sorry for sounding silly but this is the best way: picture an empty flower pot, short. You know, like a fat, short tube, wide and open at one end and smaller and closed at the another. Then picture it as metal of some kind. Then you pick it up and you point the open part away from you; you hold it right about at chest level. There are these four beams of colored light, almost like laser lights, that vivid, that come out of it, forming like a square within the circle. But the laser beam colors are also sound. And unlike what comes to mind when we say "laser" fixed light, like the Star Wars light sabers or something, these weren't fixed. They were "flowy." What I mean is, their sound and their shape had "vibrato." And like, say, long hair in a river, each beam flowed with the wave of sound, moving in time to vibrato, never losing its cohesiveness.
They didn't touch each other, the colored beams that were somehow both light and sound at the same time. I don't know how long the beams were -- long, almost like endless. But they all had their own vibrato. Each tone and each color and each rate of vibrato was different; but they were each quite "pure" like they were each a kind of "primary" color and sound and energy.
They all began picking up speed, and the colors got a little brighter, and the tones got a little louder, and the overall vibration of each one got a little stronger, and they began "shaking" with the vibrato harder, harder until they were almost running into each other, and it got more and more intense, like chaos, the shaking so hard I couldn't tell them apart, and the sound so loud it was nearly deafening, and the vibration so strong it was... indescribable, and then it reached a zenith and suddenly whoosh! -- all the beams wrapped around each other, and all vibrato stopped abruptly (it reminds me of tuning a guitar harmonically, like how when you get the tones exactly aligned the vibrato stops), and they wrapped around each other and spun together all the way out to wherever their ends were, causing a funneling-like vortex that seemed to go "through" something like a curtain. And that was "how it was done."
Well I didn't know what it meant, it seemed like some kind of technology to me. But it was interesting. I figured it only confirmed my growing theory that "sound" and frequency and resonance were related to this metaphysical stuff. I was still in a wonderful mood, and mused over the vision in my head of the "how." I decided since I felt pretty good I'd get up and write down the experience before I forgot it. So I swung my legs to the left and sat up, rubbed my eyes, pushed the curtain (gauzy curtains like mosquito net on my canopy bed) out of the way and stood up -- and promptly collapsed.
It was the most intense pain in my left knee. It wasn't that it hurt so I had to fall, it was more like my knee just gave out without asking me, and I was on the ground before I even realized what happened. I realized I was looking down at my knee in astonishment, not in pain now, but trying to see what the heck was wrong with it. I knew I hadn't twisted it -- I had stood straight up, and it didn't feel like that anyway. I tried to remember, Did I do anything weird yesterday that maybe just now kicked in? But no, nothing I could think of, I'd felt fine when I climbed into bed. I gingerly touched it, and then kind of massaged it, but it felt fine. Didn't hurt at all. I thought Geez, now that was weird, maybe it was some little nerve twitch thing.
So I stood up on my right leg, and flexed the left one; it felt fine. Took a step forward and nearly fell again -- fell against the corner wall of the hallway entrance. Baffled, I held onto the wall and hopped on my right leg in to use the bathroom. (First things first, haha!) Spent the next 10 minutes trying to figure out what was wrong with it, but couldn't. It was as if, every time I put my weight on it, there was this stabbing pain inside the kneecap, a bit to the bottom of it. I didn't know what to do about it, but I had to get ready for work, so hopping and holding on to things and walking (but very gingerly) and limping, I did so.
I'd been at work for hours when it occurred to me that it might have some relation to the "vibration" episode of the night before. But I couldn't imagine what. I mean, to my knowledge, my body itself didn't go anywhere, so how could it be related? I decided there was no reason to associate them, just because they happened in a similar time frame. Part of me argued, but I wrote it off as too confusing to deal with (half of my life fits in this category!), told myself to shut up about it, and just paid attention to work.
By the end of the day it really hurt, because I'd been walking around on it. It was pulsing and aching even when I was sitting with no stress on it. I told everyone at work I thought maybe I twisted it getting out of bed or something, since I didn't know what else to say.
It didn't help that it wasn't the only weird pain; I had this rock hard little lump just to the side of the bridge of my nose, felt like a BB or something, and my nose really hurt; not the little thing but the area around it, as if the area it were in were very bruised (hard as metal and different than a blemish); and my hand right in the middle of the back of it and my wrist, little sharp unusual pains, and my ankle and my foot (in a similar pattern to my hand); my chin had little flashes like that and a couple of bigger "flashes" of split-second agony in what I can only say felt like it was next to the outside of the surface of my brain. (Not something one normally "feels!")
I sat at my desk that afternoon thinking My god, I'm a hypochondriac! I imagined myself going to the doctor and telling him about my pains, including the one in my head, and maybe throwing in the story of the night before for good measure -- I'd end up in a psych ward, I guessed.
Well that evening I turned on the TV and was half watching Star Trek: TNG while eating dinner. It might have been a video or rerun, I can't remember. I wasn't paying much attention, until I think it was Jordy and Data talking about an "implant" in this android-woman and it just HITS me with utter certainty that that's what all these pains are. Well of course I nearly choked on my dinner at the very thought. It seemed utterly bizarre. And it wasn't like I hadn't ever thought about some of my experiences being related to "aliens," because I had, since it had been spelled out for me more than once in 'dreams and experiences', but to be honest, I hadn't given it much credence, and what little allowance I gave it was a sort of "metaphysical in my head" acceptance -- certainly not something in my physical "real" life!
I really didn't like the subject. I'm comfortable with "metaphysical experience." But "alien abduction" is just another story altogether and just a little too far out on top of it. But I just felt so certain about it, it was like things all just "clicked into place" at that moment; I "knew" on some level I couldn't put into words. I was very upset. Felt... vulnerable and disconcerted, but absolutely sure.
So that night, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to go about it, but I wanted to get a hold of "them," whoever "them" was, figuring if they'd screwed me up then they'd better come back and FIX me. I felt certain that it was unintentional, the problem with my knee. I felt such a vulnerability. It was like a very small child who gets hurt by their mother accidentally, and then waits with trembling lower lip knowing that even though mommy hurt them, she'll make it better now. I felt just like that little kid, it was strange.
So I went to bed and tried to "think really hard at them." I figured, If these are implants, how do I know what they are tuned for? Maybe they can hear my thoughts or something. Sure, it seems far out, but hell, by this time nothing seemed too hard to believe! So I just thought really hard. Didn't feel anything. Went into a meditational state and called for them, thinking, "Ok now, if all consciousness is one, there's no reason why I can't find them, no matter where or when or how they are." Great logic -- but I couldn't find them.
After awhile of lying in bed, I did feel as if "they" had showed up, but it was very intangible. Just a distant feeling. I felt as if I was being comforted, emotionally, which only intensified the mommy-help-me feelings of course. I felt a little better, and I let myself drift off to sleep, thinking that might help, fairly secure in the idea that they would "fix" whatever it was they did, and I'd be fine.
So the next morning I woke up and thought, Hey! I feel really good. I remembered my sort of calling them the night before, and felt relieved at the belief that I was surely all better now. So I jumped out of bed -- and fell again. No better. Limped all day. By the afternoon I was in tears. Wondering if I should go to a doctor, even though I refuse to have any part of the medical field except for emergency injury surgeries. I wondered if this should qualify as an emergency injury so I'd feel better about it, haha! Decided no, damn it, my guess is a doctor wouldn't even know how to fix it, and would just cut me up looking for the problem, or at the very least I'd be charged a fortune for X-rays, etc. I felt sure that they (the "they" who had hurt me) would "fix me" if I could just explain the problem to them.
So that night I went through the same scenario all over again. After much meditation, finally an intangible sense that I was being comforted... more than before, but still intangible, and that was it. The next morning, I felt alright, but was a bit less optimistic. I slid out of bed tentatively, onto my right leg, and gradually put my left leg into use, to discover that though for the first few steps it seemed better, by the time I was down the hall, it was apparent it wasn't.
I was in tears. It really hurt, and I felt so totally helpless about it. What was I supposed to do, go tell a doctor I think entities stuck an implant in my knee? Stupidest thing I ever heard. Work was a total bitch because it hurt constantly, and my employees didn't understand why I just didn't go to the doctor already. I was getting ambivalent about all my feelings because, although I had a strong feeling they were "good" to me, the fact was, they'd hurt me, they hadn't fixed me, and I was less than pleased about it.
I determined, the third day, to go see a doctor, but I'd have to wait until a day I had time to take off work, which I didn't then.
That afternoon at work, I got a call from a long winded investor who of course I have to be patient with. He's talking on and on, and eventually I pick up my pen and begin doodling on a yellow lined pad, not really even thinking about anything, just listening. As we talked, my knee began to hurt really bad, worse than it had (because just before the call I'd been running around), and I choked back tears of pain, trying to keep it out of my voice.
Eventually he was done, and we hung up. It was past time to go home, and I wanted to go find some pain-killing drugs and take as many as I could without them killing the rest of me too. I got my things together, transferred to the answering service, and just as I hung up the phone, I saw the pad I'd been doodling on during my earlier call. I'd just been drawing random shapes, I thought.
But I could clearly "see" the problem. Like I'd drawn it subconsciously because it had been hurting while I'd been doodling. In the shapes it seemed clear that there was this sliver or jagged shard and it was caught between what, on a knee, would be the kneecap and a place underneath. I could see how it would only hurt when you put weight on it while it was halfway straight, when the kneecap tended to press it inward on the bottom part. And I realized: duh, this is a minor detail in Biogram and biofeedback work -- people literally "doodle their problems" all the time. It's natural, not a big deal, simple subconscious stuff. I'd just never realized I'd done it before. And it all "made sense" to me on some level, I just could "feel" that this drawing or my interpretation of it was exactly correct, and I was really excited, because I felt like, "Now that I know the problem, I can explain it to them! Cool!"
It wasn't until I got home that I realized "explaining it to them" was easy to say, but...! I thought about it for awhile. They hadn't heard me thinking at them, I assumed. I finally concluded that I would have to somehow "embed" my various thoughts and explanation into a visual of the picture in my mind so they'd know what it was.
As I worked on it for awhile, I realized I was just creating what some call a "mental mandala." It's a "ball" of a woven tapestry type of thought process, which has almost shape and form, I'd heard of those, they're an Eastern (I think Indian or Chinese) thing. So I figured, I didn't know if they'd hear me, but I was going to make one last major attempt to explain it to them before I visited a doctor.
I got in bed but on top of the blankets with the light on, sat up against the headboard, and I continued working on the construction of this "thought ball." It had to include everything, and I made sure it had plenty of "help hurt please" feelings in it. In fact I drenched it with them, haha! I figured if this worked in any fashion, maybe the emotional component would provide emphasis, and after screwing me up they were gonna know how I felt, damn it. Finally I felt it was as ready as it was ever going to be.
I tried to meditate, relaxed, and "called for them," as I had the nights before. I had the sense that they came in stronger this time, faster, like they were expecting me. I was kind of impressed with the strength of it, and I figured now was my big chance. So I just sort of "conceptualized" lobbing it over and that they "grokked" my ball of thought, that it was part of them, and then let go of the whole idea. I opened my eyes and looked across the room to distract myself. Then I wondered if it had worked.
And suddenly, I felt something like a hand physically reach into my knee! I was wide awake. The light was on. I gasped; my mouth open and eyes wide, I stared in disbelief at my knee and the air around it. I could feel someone absolutely physically, as real as if another person was touching me, except they were somehow reaching inside my body! I thought, But this is impossible! Damn, I'm looking right at that place and there's nothing there!! How could this be so PHYSICAL?! I looked around the room quickly but nothing seemed unusual. I was certainly wide awake. And it was certainly, absolutely, a physical feeling, as real as if a person touched me. I considered reaching down to see if I could "feel" something I couldn't see, and began to, but then decided against it -- they were helping me, and no point in making them angry just in case they didn't want me to.
So as I just lay there, I was nearly overwhelmed by this incredible emotion of mommy is saving me thanks I love you so much! (My punishment for deliberately pouring all my pain into that mandala I bet, ha.) I felt such relief and love and gratitude it nearly hurt my chest. I felt something reach into my right knee then, and by this time I'm just blissing out on the experience, I mean it felt totally cool, and it was like "attention" from mommy or something, so I was eating it up. Then I felt something reach into my torso, and I thought hey wow, is that my womb they're touching? I couldn't be sure but I thought so. And so on in various places, and I felt myself drifting off into sleep, and I was happy and felt safe and secure and loved. At some point during the night I apparently got under the covers, though I don't remember doing it.
The next morning I knew I was ok. I was still gentle and tentative about using the leg. It seemed ok, maybe a little bit sore; that's to be expected. By the end of the day, it was fine.
The injury in particular, and the physical "fixing me" that followed, finally understanding the proper way to communicate, and that I'd finally succeeded in "calling them" (whoever "them" might be), all of this revolutionized my thinking on these subjects. Until then it had been metaphysical in my interpretation, which is to say, sometimes physical but more along the lines of ghosts and Ouija boards than "aliens." After that event though, after being so sure that it was "implants" I was dealing with, and after "waking up" on the beam-ramp in the experience prior, I finally dropped most of my illusions about the so-called "aliens" not being involved in my life.
I had used the term before, but not taken it very seriously; after this, I considered it a legitimate subject. I still avoided it, as I had all my life -- for some reason, my psychological aversion to it didn't go away regardless of my experience or acceptance -- but personally, I was gradually coming to terms. I still considered a great deal of my experience more "astral" than physical, and that went a great way toward relaxing me about the subject.
They might be aliens, I consoled myself, but they like me!
So when I became lucid, I was in the middle of (get this) waittressing. (I kid you not.) I don't know what they looked like. I seldom look at the Beings I work with, I mean percentage-wise of how often I encounter them. It's like I just... don't pay attention. It's probably not by accident. Anyway, so I don't know who it was this time, but the tables were small, like in a nightclub, but they were all really high, we'd have to be at least 2' taller and much skinnier on average to fit them. I kept going over to something similar to a counter and making (don't laugh) what I felt were desserts (but just one kind), and taking them to tables. People would wave or nod like an auction and I would nod that I'd seen them, go make another dessert, and take it to them. There was a small table, a high one with a very high stool-type chair so I could reach it, that had a type of computer on it over near the corner. There were a few of these tables and computers, and I knew that this one was "mine."
There was a man there who was my "supervisor." He came near me and I realized that I was done, and that I needed to go into the other room. I find myself in another room. I find something there and I can't figure out what it is. I look at it. Is it a really small horse? A big weird dog? I never did figure out what it was. It was grey. (I know...)
On it, or in it, or held by it, seems to be this plate or container of something. In any case, I take the plate. And when I look at it, I'm totally appalled. There are all these little creatures on it. They're grey and kinda slimy. They're small, like the size of baby puppies. I can't figure out what the hell they are, but they seem to have skinny necks and wobbly little heads. I'm torn between thinking the wobbly little heads are simply darling and thinking they're totally revolting, to the point of making me nauseous. I take the plate into a hallway, go down the hallway a bit, and set it on a type of counter area, pushing it back so that it won't get knocked off and the little things get hurt. The boss guy comes down the hallway and sees me just standing there. He picks up the plate and I realize I'm supposed to go somewhere else, so I find myself somewhere else. (The rest is dull.)
So much for being cosmic, eh? I finally make executive in the real world, and I spend my interdimensional time waiting tables!
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