Catalina Island, UFO/USO Hotspot

Watching an old episode of UFO Witness last night about the UFOs and USOs seen by many a witness on Catalina Island. (Catalina Island is roughly twenty miles west of southern California.) The episode featured Preston Dennett’s book Undersea UFO Base: An In-Depth Investigation of USOs in the Santa Catalina Channel.

I love Catalina Island and have many great memories of visiting there. We went there often, starting when I was a little kid. The place always seemed magical to me. Watching the program last night I wondered, for the first time, if anything UFO related happened to me or family members while on the island. I’ve known that Catalina was a UFO hotspot, but never once wondered if anything unexplained had happened to me there. Last night however I wondered.

I don’t have any memories of anything weird happening. I do remember being on the glass bottomed boats at night, out on the water, watching the “flying fish” as they leapt through the air, and the murky green water seen through the glass at the bottom of the boat. I remember drives around the island and seeing wild  buffalo in the hills at twilight.
 

I remember being so happy while playing in the water on the beach, and sleeping in the hotel room on the soft sheets and hearing the ocean as I drifted off to sleep.

A child’s memories of Catalina Island. A place I want to return to. Hell, I’d love to live there but of course, it is out of this world expensive. But a nice fantasy.

So, did anything UFO wise happen to me on my several visits? I highly doubt it. But magical and mysterious regardless.

"More Real Then Real": The Persistence Of Memories

 Memory: about four years old, if that. Spread ealged on a bed no covers. Mom, Dad, Grandmother, stuck in doorway to bedroom.  They can't move past the threshold. They're stuck, watching. Waiting. I am waiting. I know "they, " or "it," will arrive soon. I am not afraid. A little anxious a little in awe, but not afraid.

The ceiling above me opens. Like the roofs of an observatory; the sides of the roof slide open, revealing one huge open space exposing the night sky. Full of stars.

I am still in my bed, no covers, on my back, parents and my maternal  grandmother waiting the yellow light of the doorway.

(Odd my father was there; parents divorced when I was about two and I don't ever remembeer my dad in life as a young child.) 

I, on my back, ceiling open, night sky, and then, a giant eagle type of bird comes swooshing down through the sky, through they open roof and captures me. Thing is, I was waiting for him, or, it. I knew it would come, I waited his arrival with a combination of respectful awe, gratitude, and overall weirdness.

The eagle (or whatever bird like being it was, Mothman? Garuda?) was a familiar being that came to take me away. I was never afraid, thought at times aware of the whole "not all about me" vibe. So much more. So many things.

Waiting for "Them"

 I am soon to be seventy years old. Happy Birthday to me! I made it so far, including this bout with cancer. I will NOT give up. I am fighting every day. That aside. . . been thinking lately of my childhood encounters with aliens. Or, non-human beings, anyway. 

It occurred to me, recently, that these memories includes barely seen entities that resemble the "grays." Or, "greys." About my height at the time (age around ten years old even younger) yet, I don't remember these beings as being seen in a literal sense. Or they were they all right. Utterly aware of their presence. Vivid. To this day. But the visual memory, the visual appearance of the aliens (or whatever one wants to call them) escapes me. I know they were there, I know they were about my height, I know they were in "control." They l like to play, they liked to "dance" with me before taking me out through the front door of our home and place me on a branch high up in the fir tree in our neighbors yard, where I'd wait for "them" to appear. Them being ships, often in the guise of a weird bathtub type object with a large sail above it 

Sometimes a friend of mine from elementary school, and also high school, appears in these scenarios, we are both up in the tree, waiting for "them."

Cats and (Chickens): Energies

 Still missing our nineteen year old cat Mango, who went off on his own to die. We want to get another cat, but not quite ready yet. Looked at some at an adoption event last week; were tempted but the whole thing had Jim depressed and so, we wait. In the meantime. This is what I posted the other day on my Facebook page:

Mango

What a weird day. Last night, talking about how cats were all over this block; that's how we found four of our cats, all strays that just showed up and never left. Haven't seen cats around for some time. This morning, I was in the front yard and saw a calico looking cat in our yard. He or she froze. I spoke gently to it but she dashed away; stopped, looked back at me and froze again before taking off. Wary thing; she ran under the parked cars to the end of the block.  

The day just got better and better: 

Earlier this morning, woke up to a wet floor. The hall was wet, the bathroom floor flooded. Something happened to the pipe under the sink; went to the store to buy a part, it was the wrong size, went back to return it, they didn't have the size we needed.

So that was fun, cleaning all that up.

Also, noticed one of the hooks on the bathroom wall where I had some necklaces hanging had fallen off, onto the floor.

And to wrap things up, watching a movie in the "roku" room, with the big sound, and the sound bar wasn't working. Just kaput. Tried to figure out why it wasn't working but no clue.

Strange energies.

Night before last, had a dream :

that I found a shopping cart with a cat that looked just like Mango, except, it wasn't. Quite. I thought he was dead for he never moved at all, was curled up like he was sleeping. By his feet were two kittens that looked just like him. They were very sweet and friendly, so damn cute! I was angry at the people I lived with, because I would go out of town for a few days at a time and no one was taking care of the cats. "How could you be so cold and cruel as to ignore these babies?" I said. Shrugs on their part. So I decide to stay home and take care of them. 

Last night, dreamt I found a large white cat that looked just like our cat (who passed a few years ago) but it wasn't. It was, but wasn't. (typical dream logic.) He was outside in our bushes; I picked him up but was careful not to hurt him because his front paws were bleeding. He was very sweet and loving. HIs fur got stuck in my white nail polish which wasn't quite dry so I had to remove all my polish before going to a job interview. The woman at the interview mentions I hadn't done my nails. I tell her what happened, she laughed.

Today, out in the yard, I see a beautiful black cat. Never seen it before. Had a collar. Very friendly and sweet; was going back and forth between the neighbor's house and ours. A few moments late, when we went inside, we saw it sitting on our porch. Came right up to us. I assumed it's the new neighbor's  cat since they just moved in a few days ago and the cat is new to the street, plus it was hanging around on the neighbor's porch. 

Then, just to underline the animal energy vibe, I hear, then see, three chickens in my neighbor's driveway across the street. They walked down the drive and across the street in a single line. Her new neighbors recently bought a coop but obviously the chickens managed to get out. 

With all this cat energy around maybe our new cat will come into our lives very soon. I hope so!

 

Hoping For a Trigger

     Something quite obvious occurred to me the other night, while watching a program on UFOs. There are so many UFO shows on television and You Tube, etc. that it’s hard to remember what it was that I was watching. It was on television. No matter. The thing is, I was watching, yet again, another UFO program and I wondered why, after all these years, do I still watch any program that has to do with UFOs, and to a slightly lesser degree, any show that has to do with Bigfoot, ghosts, the paranormal, etc.?

     I haven’t learned anything. Not true; I’ve learned the facts of various cases. Barney and Betty Hill, Kecksburg, Travis Walton. . .

     I’ve learned about triangles and the Phoenix Lights and orbs. All kinds of orbs. Orange orbs. Ah, so that’s it. 

     I watch these shows hoping for a trigger. That by watching UFO programs -- especially ones to do with orbs, orange orbs -- something within my subconscious will shift, and I’ll remember. I’ll remember what happened during the missing time my husband and I experienced during the sighting. I’ll learn just what the orange orb was. I’ll discover why. Why it was there, why I experienced all the strange things in its aftermath. I’ll understand the connection between the orange orb encounter and all the encounters preceding it. Since childhood, I will finally know.

     So far, no such luck. Tried hypnosis, which turned out to be a waste of money. I expected a deep dive into a dramatic uncovering of memory. Instead, it was a gentle fun but empty guided sort of meditation. (“You are walking down a hall and see a painting. What is in the painting?”) Bleh. 

     I’m trying a remote viewing kind of thing. I have my husband involved, though he doesn’t know what it’s about. Just a target number I gave him. So far, nothing. 

     I draw and paint and try to work out through my art if something will suddenly erupt in a big There It Is! moment.

      I continue to watch to see if there are other witnesses who have had similar encounters. There are lots of sightings of small orange orbs far off in the sky. Footage exists all over the place of those kinds of orbs. Not just orange but red, green, blue, yellow. There are some cases of large orange orbs, like the one I saw, and the sense from the witness that the orb was aware, intelligent, playing with the witness. That’s what I experienced. One happened in Oregon, near the gorge, also in the nineteen eighties. Connected? 

     So far, no answers. Interesting elements, but no answer. And now that I’m in my sixties I wonder if I’ll ever find out. 

Shrines to Mary

 

Abstract Mary, ink, pen, marker on paper, July 2023

Two nights in a row, have had dreams about Mary, the Holy Mother, as well as general goddess energy.

First dream:

I'm setting up a shrine, or altar, in a glass display case that's on a table. The case is about four feet by three feet. I place rocks, crystals, shells, and images of Mary everywhere, as well as other goddess images, but Mary seems to take the center spot. A woman comes by and tells me I can't set up here because it might offend others who are coming into this place. (seems to be a large auditorium.) I tell her I am not going to dismantle my shrine; it's on them if they're offended, and no one told me not to set up. They had plenty of time, but expecting me to take down my altar two minutes before everyone is expected to arrive is rude. I continue setting up.

Second dream:

I'm setting up in a bedroom in my house. It's a tiny room, really a large closet. I am creating a space for Mary as well as other goddesses. Again, Mary is the focus. I am almost finished when someone hands me a small box. Inside is a votive candle inside a glass holder. The box is paper with really neat illustrations of Mary. I place it in the middle of the shelf. 

I am not a Christian and don't believe in a Christian god. I did go to Catholic school for eight years when I was a kid; was baptized and had my first communion and confirmation. I stopped believing in a literal Christian Bible based religion when I was fifteen. So I am not sure what the significance of this imagery is. However, I find myself creating a lot of Mary art.  

And yes, that is an orange orb in the drawing I did a few days ago. Hmm...

Memories Remembered and Lost

 July 23, 2023

Exploring the Orb: Self-reflexive investigation into an orange orb

     I’ve been wondering if one can remote view missing time. I realize I can’t remote view my own episodes of missing time. Or can I? I’ve had success with remote viewing; the little I’ve done. But trying to remote view your own event?I wouldn’t trust what came through. Still, trying to drift off to sleep, I gave my missing time target the code of 4242 and tried.

     Memory. I don’t remember a damn thing during those missing hours in context of my orange orb sighting, so maybe remote viewing myself is valid. So I started thinking about memory; how we know we had a dream the night before, for example, yet can’t remember the dream itself. Maybe a fragment. Yet we know, we sense, that we did dream, even though we can’t remember. That dream is out there, somewhere. Has to be. 

     While I was musing on this, I suddenly found myself remembering a house we lived in for a short time when I was little. It was on Bedford street in L.A. I was about six or seven, at the most. What is interesting about this memory is that I remember quite a bit about the house we lived in before when I was younger. I remember plenty of the house we moved into after the house on Bedford. I even remember being in the womb, and when I was a baby still in my high chair in the apartment we lived in on Mansfield. But Bedford, in between all those other places? Not much.

     Also, that house on Bedford was weird. The few memories I have are strange ones. One memory, I was alone in the living room. On the mantle were stuffed animals my step-father bought home with him for us. I remember staring at the eyes of these creatures, just staring and staring at them. They stared back. I remember being frightened by this. Another memory: I am upstairs. Of course, there was no second story, but for some reason I remember being upstairs in this house. It’s nighttime, I am leaning out the open window. I hear bells on the roof, clattering, and I know it’s Santa Claus. But it isn’t Christmas time. I am excited. One more memory: also remember this being upstairs, in my bedroom. A giant chrome or silver cylinder, with a grate inside it and ribbons blowing out from the object. It moved across my room. I was very very frightened. I did not like this thing one bit.

     When I was an adult, I asked my mother about the house, if there was a heater of some kind in my bedroom. I was thinking maybe I was mis-remembering, confusing a radiator or something for a giant monster-cylinder. She insisted there was no such thing in my bedroom.

     I remember strange things from the house we lived in before, including seeing what I call the Patio Alien. I remember experiencing all kinds of things in the house we lived after the Bedford house, like waiting for “them”, small barely visible beings carrying me out through doors and placing me in a large fir tree to wait for their ship. 

     But for some reason, I remember only those three disturbing incidents on Bedford. Why is that? 

     

Azarath, Paranormal Oil, Mean Nun

 Yes, the dreaming mind. Mystical weirdness:

 

The other night, dreamt I was driving a motorcycle up a steep hill. The hill was almost straight up and down. I was passing by all kinds of shops, open doors, tiny storefronts, selling all kinds of wares from all over the world. I stop by one and don't have a good feeling. The owner, a man, says he is Azarath, and he's red and black. A slightly satanic vibe but nothing Christian about it. Not that simplistic.

When I woke up I was thinking Azarath was the name of a goddess or god. It is in fact fantasy; DC comics. Which will probably seem obvious to many out there but news to me. An odd thing; yesterday I did a search for Azarath on a different browser and links came up defining it as a land beyond Israel. Today I'm on another browser and all that came up for Azarath was the DC reference.

Last night:

I'm with family, two of my sisters. We party all night but I don't, I don't drink or anything and turn in early. Next day is the last day of school, I graduate from college. Before the class I go to the grocery store and buy a special kind of oil: Paranormal Oil. If you rub it on your body you will be successful in your paranormal career. It cost eleven dollars. I bring it to the school and the teacher in charge, a nun, assumes it's for her and puts it in a display case. I'm upset because it's for me, and I want either the oil, or my money. 

This nun is mean. Really sarcastic nasty thing. She hands my paper back to me and whispers in my ear that she "should have given me a D but felt sorry for me." I still have two papers to hand in but I decide to let it all go. Forget school, I don't have to be here. Forget the paper, I know it's good. Forget the oil, she can do her witchy nun magick and I'll buy another bottle.

Whitley Streiber’s THEM, Sounds, Ringing Phone

 Whitley Streiber’s THEM, Sounds, Ringing Phone

I’m reading Whitely Strieber's book, Them. In Them, Streiber has shared some of the hundreds of letters he and his late wife Anne received following the publication of Communion. Following each letter, or group of letters, Strieber offers his own thoughts on the contents. His comments are extremely interesting; metaphysical, philosophical. He asks questions and goes off in directions that 

In one chapter, Streiber discusses the experiences of those who have heard strange sounds during alien being/OOBE/exploding head/ events. Buzzings, ringing, train like sounds, rumblings, and more. 

As I’m reading this section, I wonder where the “aliens” are. (I say alien but that does not necessarily mean ET. As Streiber is very clear -- and I agree -- we don’t know what “they” are. ET, alien, other, who knows.) I wonder why I haven’t had many experiences lately (and yet I have, just different) not as intense as they once were. Old age? Does that have anything to do with any of this? Am I paying enough attention? I decide as I put away my Kindle and drift off to sleep, that I will start paying close attention!

I’m awakened by the phone ringing. Just one loud phone ring, then nothing. Like the caller hung up after one ring. I’m very annoyed, who the hell calls at 3:00 a.m.? Unless it’s bad news, usually. Could be a misdial. The phone did not wake up Jim, who usually hears the phone before I do. “Hmm,” I think, and go back to sleep. 

Check the phone in the morning. We have a land line. The machine lets us know if any calls, including hang-ups, came in. Nothing.

(Reminds me of what I posted about recently; hearing a voice shout out “Nigel!”)

This all could be connected to the phenomenon. UFOs, aliens, interactions with “them,” others, inter-dimensional creatures, our own minds communicating with the unseen, intention setting, them answering the call, synchronicity.

Or, as they call it, “chemo brain” and has nothing to do with any of the above. But I doubt that. This phone ringing episode is too familiar, smoothly fitting in with all of the other weird synchronicities connected with this whole UFO and Beyond stuff. 

A Train, Jeff Goldblum and an Alien Assignment

 Okay dreaming mind is visiting alien motifs again. This time. . .

I'm given a writing assignment in class. A combination of work/school. The assignment: describe yourself if you were an ET. What do you look like, what can you do, etc. I write a good two or three pages before I realize I haven't yet described what I look like as an alien. Just that I am an alien, and flying at night above a train, looking for Jeff Goldblum. I find him! He's alone in a car. Soft yellow light. A Edward Hopper painting feel.  My heart is a-flutter. Jeff Goldblum! I found him at last. Sigh. 

I remember now that I am to describe myself as an alien. However, I am really truly an alien, this is really happening, and the writing assignment is the dream, the unreal part. As an ET, I am winged. Blues and greens. Something of a flying mermaid fairy being. I realize I should change into human form so I don't scare off Jeff Goldblum. Wouldn't want to startle the poor man.

Edward Hopper

Geometric Oracle Dream

 

The other day I posted about hearing a voice call out "Nigel!"

Last night I dreamt that I was telling Barbara Fisher (host of the podcast Six Degrees of John Keel) about this experience. As I was telling Barbara about the voice, she was giving a reading to someone. The deck was not a traditional tarot deck, but an oracle card deck, one that had geometric shapes on them. Each shape was very important. It all had to do with fractal geometry. As she was explaining the meanings to the client, ectoplasm appeared around her, and white-golden shimmering light.

Next to me was Jim, wearing one of his McMinnvilee UFO Fest t-shirts. A man walked by, pointed at Jim and said "Oh yeah, we got you! Have to talk to you about this!"

And that is all.

Who is Nigel?

Weird experience last night. Since going through chemo, I've had a hard time getting to sleep at night. As usual, my brain was going a million miles a second until three in the morning. Suddenly I hear, very distinct, loud and sharp, Jim yell from the living room "NIGEL!!" 

Naturally I wondered what the heck was Jim doing out in the living room at three a.m, and, who the hell is Nigel? (Our only animal friend in the house is a cat and his name is Mango.) I then realize Jim is right next to me, sound asleep. As was Mango.

Kind of spooky. I was awake. 

Nigel: name meaning and origin - BabyCentre UK: 11 is one of the two "master numbers" of numerology. Those who possess it are highly intuitive, and have a strong sense of spirituality.

The number 11 is known as a "master number" because it has its own unique and powerful vibrations. Those influenced by it tend to find inner strength in times of trial, coping well with crisis and chaos. 

Also odd: Mango is eighteen. Poor guy has a cataract, is deaf in one ear, and for the past year has been meowing/crying at night. He sleeps on the bed with us but gets up a lot and will start his yowling when he's out in the living room. Then he starts up again around six a.m. Last night he was very calm and didn't yowl at all. He had left the bedroom at some point and slept on the couch in the living room, which I found surprising since I hadn't heard him cry.

Dreams, Synchronicity, Hoodoo

 Dreams and Synchronicity

Both my spouse and I were close friends with someone I'll call Joe.  A falling out, and hadn't had contact for a few years. This morning I told Jim: "I had a dream about 'Joe' last night." And Jim said: "That's odd, so did I."

Odd. We hadn't been talking about Joe, nothing would have triggered our dreaming minds. Well, something did obviously, but nothing conscious. 

So I look up Joe on Facebook, and see that he's now a grandfather. We were also close with his children, knowing them from when they were little, to adulthood. The grandchild's name is the same name -- an unusual name -- that Jim and I were going to name our child decades ago. (I miscarried.) Another weird little oddity.

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Conjure

A new book arrived today. Hoodoo Sen Moise's Working Conjure: A Guide to Hoodoo Folk Magic.

Just barely into it and I am finding it very interesting.

The Temporary Psychic Episodes of the Post Orb Encounter

The Orange Orb

We saw the large orange orb. I had the ridiculous yet unshakeable sense that the orb was waiting for me. When I saw it off in the distance, stationary, and thought “What the hell is that?!” it zoomed from the top of the hill (which, I judged, was roughly a mile away since we walked to that hill many a time) to across the road from us. And, followed us. And then I had, the simlarlar riduculous feeling again (but nonetheless accurate) that it was playing with me. Us. Me. Plus, missing time. Watching the orb from the back of my husband’s motorcyle (who only saw the orb briefly, he did not pull over to look) it followed us until we turned the corner to park in front of our rented house. The orb then dropped down into the back yard of a nieghobor’s house catty-corner from ours.

It was night. Dark. Around 8 pm ish. I did not know the nieghbors in that house. What was I going to do? Knock on their door and say ‘Hi, I live just right over there and was wondering, have you noticed a UFO or giant orange orb in your backyard? Anything?”

Aftermath

So, there was that. But also, more after that sighting. Aside from my determintion to find out what it was I saw, and why (which, forty years later, I have yet to discover) was the aftermath.

For some time, I had intense psychic eprisodes. I’ve always had those, but nothing like what i experienced for a few years immediately following the Orange Orb Encounter:

The Purple Car

Before cell phones. Waiting outiside the community center’s pool for my husband to pick me up. The center’s office was closed. No phone nearby. A pay phone in the strip mall across the road -- maybe. So I’m waiting, and suddenly, I “see” as vividly as anything, my husband pulling into the center’s parking lot. Except he is in the passenger seat, and his cousin is driving the car. And the car is purple. I don’t remember the make of the car, but it was something like a Ford Torino, or a Chevy Nova. Crazy big boat car, purple. Well, sure enough, a purple boat like car pulls into the lot, cousin driving, my husband in the passenger seat. They were very surpised I wasn’t at all hyper anxious (as is often my state in those situations) because I had seen the situation. Turns out our car had broken down (again) and so my husband called his cousin, who had to borrow a car from his friend (the purple car) since his own car was also out of service.

Community College Instructor

I was taking a typing course  at the community college annex. (I told. you this was decades ago!) Abruptly, a “mind postcard” slotted into my mind’s eye, where I saw the instructor in the classroom. Except the instructor wasn’t our regular one, the one I saw was a sub. I saw her hair style and color -- red -- and her dress, a green print. Yes. When I arrived at the class, the sub was there, in a green print dress. And she had red hair.

Pre-Kindergarten Student

I was lead teacher in a preschool class at the community center. We had a student who moved to Washington state. I and the staff, and all the kids, were sorry to see her go! A few weeks later, after she had moved, I had a dream where  the little girl came running down a golden tunnel of light to me. She was wearing a tie-dyed dress. “Ms. Regan, I’m coming to see. you tomorrow! I’m so happy!”

The next moring, her mother and the little girl -- dressed in the same tie-dyed dress - arrived at our classroom. They had come for a visit. 

There are more, which I'll post about soon.

These episodes did not seem scary to me, or even unusual. I simply accepted them. And was always mildly surprised when others were surprised at my calmness in these events. How did I know, they wondered. How come I'm not so surprised? they would ask. I dunno. I took, and still take, these things for granted. Although now, I am much more aware and grateful for these episodes. It may be, for me, and others who experience these things, a "given," but I am still respectful of them.

As far as these specific episodes go, in context of my orange orb sighting, they seem to be directly connected to the sighting in some way. Even though I have always experienced such things, and continue to do so (although less so) it seems there's a connection between the sighting and these specific events.

As I said, there are more connected to the sighting, which I'll post about soon.

Orange Orb Dreams, UFO Tulpas, and Insectoids

 An Orange Orb dream the other night:

I'm on a Zoom like call; a UFO presentation. Sort of like a podcast, UFO conference and radio show all together. Some one recognizes my blog The Orange Orb and so I once again tell the tale. Of seeing the very large and up close orange orb, its following us, the feeling it knew what I was thinking and was responding, the missing time . . .

And then I say that each time I tell the story, the orange orb becomes more real, (not that it ever was not real) more concrete. Like a UFO Tulpa. It's still true, and "mine," meaning, my experience but it also is its own self. Aware. Solid. Separate from me. Its own thing. This is so damn hard to articulate! So hard. But a very important aspect of the whole encounter. 

Alien Ant, watercolor, James Rich

As I'm relating this, the night sky becomes a swirling geometric mass and several insectoids show up. Praying Mantis types, locust types. They are anywhere from six feet to ten feet tall. They're watching, listening. Aware. No threat -- yet. 

I tell everyone that they're here and very, very real. "Yes," I say, as bizarre and really, ridiculous, as it seems, these alien-insectoid beings are real. And here. And have been. 

The Animals are Waiting

 

A powerful dream last night. Not much detail, only the intense emotional content and the message. Which was: 

An angelic presence, more than one, or guides, messengers, telling me I needed to hear this. That the way to an authentic spiritual life, connection, a way to navigate all the anomalous weirdness in this realm of High Strangeness, was to connect with animal spirit. All animals. Every animal. Their spirits. They are waiting for me, for us, to agree with them that yes, this is acceptable and we will listen, we will hear, we will share our stories. We will be here with you. We will communicate. We will accept your messages. We will be patient and listen and share and use what you have told us to grow, to live a deeper life.

A Spectacular OBE

 The other night, Dr. Bruce Goldberg was on Coast to Coast. I only listened to the first five minutes and then decided to just go to sleep. Before the interview, as I was getting into bed, I set the intention to access bona fide information regarding my missing time and orange orb sighting. I also threw in prayers to Arch Angel Michale and spirit guides for protection.  (I had given up on hypnosis -- the one time I tried it was interesting in terms of imagery and imagination and dream type symbolism, but as to truth, or at least, a meaty memory -- nah.) So, intention set, radio off, and to dream land I went.

And then I had the most wonderful and fruitful OOBE's I've ever had. I felt myself leaving my body! With that, I heard the faint sounds, but also, felt the bed shaking beneath me. That was a new one. And, I sensed, and almost saw, entities surrounding me. They were not negative. Not necessarily new agey groovy vibe loving either, but not malevolent. 

I was telling myself to not stop, not fear, not snap back into my body. Which I didn't. Instead, for the first time, I felt myself rotating after I left my body. I was only about two feet above my body, spinning around, and then... upside down! I was looking at my body in the bed. I was above my body.

And, sadly, that's all I remember. But, for me, the shaking of the bed, the energies surrounding me, and the rotating of my astral body, were all new things for me. Progress. And not negative.

My First Hypnosis, and A VERY Eerie Synchronicity

 Hypnosis session number one:

After breathing and body relaxation exercises, I was asked to walk down a hall full of pictures of me at various ages. When I got to the one where Jim and I had our first case of missing time, I stopped, and was asked to enter the picture:

We’re holding hands standing at the top of a ramp like drive-way. At the end of the driveway is a garage, the garage door is closed, almost touching the ground. It’s about four inches up from the ground. A yellow beam of light can be seen under the door.

For some reason, Jim and I are both intrigued by this light but also a bit uneasy. After looking at the light for a bit, he says “Let’s get out of here” and I agree. We leave.

But, now I’m back at the garage. I walk down the slanting drive-way, suddenly it shifts and becomes like a half pipe. Wobbly, I’m a little dizzy. I see that a very large something inside the garage is pressing against the door; I can see the indentation. It’s not trying to get out, it’s just pressing against the metal of the door. Must be pretty strong and big to do that.

I still see the yellow light and now lots of white lights, dancing around. Not quite orbs, more like beams shooting around. I’m both a little scared and also interested, almost enchanted. I feel like Alice Through the Looking Glass. 

Now, Jim and I are both inside the garage. I don’t know how we got inside. We are not together; he’s off by himself at one side of the place, I’m on the other side. You’d think we’d be together but we’re by ourselves. I notice he’s wearing the peacoat he always wore back then. His hands are in his pockets, he’s looking around, in awe. As am I. 

This place is huge. It’s about thirty feet high. Now I see the Geisha Alien being. (I had a dream around this time of being inside a white geodesic dome, sitting on the floor across from a seven foot or so gray alien. I know it’s female. She’s wearing a wig like a Geisha. No emotion, highly intelligent. I am furious she’s keeping me from Jim, who is somewhere in this place.) I am surprised the Geisha Alien from my dream is here. She is incredibly tall, almost touches the ceiling. Around her are about a dozen grays. They are about four feet in height. While she is extremely intelligent -- though a cold bitch -- the little guys aren’t so smart. They just do what they’re told.

I know Jim is aware of their presence but I’m not sure he can physically see them. Why I think this I don’t know. I can see them.

Inside this place close to the door is a large classic flying saucer. It’s so typical, almost comic book like, it makes me laugh. I mention this to the hypnotist. But, it’s what I see. It’s also mainly a gold color, which doesn’t jibe with the usual chrome or silver color. 

I know that I’m going to end up inside that thing. Craft, UFO, ship. I walk under it. You’d think I would have been brought to it, probably by the creatures, but I seem to walk under it on my own. 

I find myself inside. Not sure how I got inside. It’s smaller than I thought. Little rooms with curved walls. That gold light again. The Geisha alien is back. This time she’s six feet tall, a far more normal size. She’s acting very personable; “This is where you’ll be staying,” she says, friendly. But she’s faking being friendly. She doesn’t talk; we appear to be communicating telepathically. She ushers me into a small almost empty room. There’s a metal table, white. She has me sit on the table, then she leaves.

I’m sitting on the table. The hypnotist asks me how I feel now, and what do I see, looking down on myself. I am watching this from above.

 

I tell her I feel like a little kid, I see myself down there sitting on the table and wearing anklets, Mary Janes, a dress just like I would have worn in first grade in the 1950s.

I feel both a little scared and bored, like a little kid. Then I flash to when I was a little kid and had those experiences where I’d float out the door after focusing on the yellow beam of light under the door. “They” would take me outside and leave me waiting high up in a tree. I would be excited, and loved watching the stars while I waited.

That was it. I told the hypnotist i don’t how real any of this was, and how much was just my mind free floating around. Was any of this a literal memory? Bits, parts of actual events? I can’t say.

A Very Eerie Synchronicity:

I told all this to Jim when I got home of course. He remembered my Geisha Alien dream.  Then he said “You know, Michael (his brother) had a similar dream around that same time.” First I heard of it! 

Michael had a dream that really disturbed him, of a tall alien like creature he knew was female and “looked like a Geisha, he described it that way.” She had six fingers.

I never told his brother about my dream, only Jim. 

And how is it you can live with someone for forty-plus years, go through all kinds of unexplained and anomalous experiences together, talk about them endlessly, and yet, this “coincidence” of his brother’s dream and mine just went unmentioned? 

In Summary:

Well I just don’t know. I expected, despite the hypnotists assurances it wouldn’t work that way, to go super deep/under, like what we see on television with people recalling, eyes squeezed tight, their experiences in explicit detail. Me, it was just . . . a light drowsy time, I was fully awake and aware, and didn’t trust what I saw. Or at least, didn’t trust it as literal. 

Like dreams, where symbols stand in to represent something deeper, more, behind the often illogical image, my “recall” wasn’t literal. I don’t think. I mean, really, a large classic UFO saucer inside a garage in the middle of West Hollywood with a thirty foot tall female alien wearing a Geisha wig? 

But as the hypnotist said, when I told her all this, “it’s real on some level.” I agree with that. Scratching at the truth. It’s hard work. Is it worth it? Are there other ways to go about it? Why do some people remember so much while others do not?

Is there a there there, in other words? Is it worth going back for another session? I think so; I do have an appointment in two weeks. After that, I don’t know.

I’ve tried to get at this from a lot of angles: dream work,  art, tarot, writing, talking, connecting with others, research (I have a good four hundred books on UFOs and related subjects) and I still don’t know what happened.

Covid Nightmares

Computer manipulated oil pastel on gray paper: Covid Nightmares

 It's taken me a good long year or more to really feel the depression and anxiety surrounding Covid. 

Two years ago in March, a few days before my birthday, I came home from the elementary school where I worked as an Instructional Assistant in the Title 1 program. And I never came back. Covid had just hit, and schools were shutting down, moving on to distance learning, etc. I had planned to retire that year and had just started that process. I was to finish out my contract until June, so, I did on line teaching until then. Also, we cancelled our annual It's Regan's Birthday Bash on the Oregon Coast in Yachats. Every year, forever, we went to the coastal town of Yachats to celebrate my birthday. Not that year. 

It was crazy, frustrating, and very strange. Laptops loaned to me from the district didn't work, learning the brand new systems was definitely a challenge, taking on line courses to justify my salary were boring and hard, and, seemed pointless since I was retiring. But I got through it.  (The challenges for certified teachers and the little kids were much harder.)

I don't mind wearing masks, I was vaccinated and got my booster. I wash my hands, take zinc and other supplements. The first year was okay. The second year, a bit harder. I miss visiting with friends. 

And lately, I realize it's really hit hard. I still mind the whole mask thing, but the paranoia has seeped into my subconscious. I don't feel comfortable meeting friends in public places. When I do, it's that little window in between Covid variants. One week it's safe, the next, not. Numbers of patients with Covid who are hospitalized go up, and, deaths. Medical staff shortages. Confusing data from the CDC and other organizations. Everywhere it seems a lot of people -- far too many! -- are behaving as if Covid is over, or, not so bad. Crowds at football games without masks, sitting right next to each other.

Also, as strange as it is to acknowledge, our ages no doubt have something to do with my anxieties. I'm in my late sixties, my husband in his seventies. We have all kinds of health issues (strokes, heart attacks, chronic asthma, and more...

So, hating the fact we're leery and a bit paranoid, we are, nonetheless. . . leery and paranoid.

Meanwhile, I feel guilty for not socializing, while others do without a care. I can't help but feel despair and anger at people's stupidity. And I am angry and also despair at the systems in charge, because they know what needs to be done, and it isn't getting done. It never will get done. That's what systems do. They gaslight us. They intentionally do the most blatant topsy turvy acts of absurdity.  

Covid Nightmare: "Bleh", oil pastel on gray paper, Regan Lee 2022

And now Covid has infected my dreams. I have dreams I walk into a store without a mask, and I'm horrified that I forgot. Or that others are not wearing masks, and we get into a fight. The past week, I've had two dreams where I had a bad case of Covid. I woke up very scared.

I tried to interpret the feeling those dreams gave me in this piece. But it was "blah." I manipulated the oil pastel on the computer, and was surprised at how this image gives a pretty good idea of what I'm feeling. 

Covid Nightmares. Indeed. The only thing I can say is that we need to be patient with each other and take care of ourselves. Such a simple thought, but hard to do. Especially now.

Dreaming of the "Heart Card"

 As I wrote in the post below, (Mermaids in the Astral) you'd think I had indulged in a healthy amount of magic mushrooms last night. I don't know what my subconscious was doing, but clearly, it was having a good time.

So, aside from the dream where I was a mermaid with a lovely shimmering golden tail, I also dreamt about the tarot:

I am doing a reading for my niece, using my newest deck, the Dark Forest Tarot, which is another version of the Waite Rider Coleman tarot.  I tell my niece I like this deck a lot but it's a little darker than I expected. What attracted me to the deck was the sepia, toned down "darkness" but when I received the deck (complete with box and red velvet bag, groovy!) it was a bit darker than I expected. Still, I really like the deck.

I use the layout, or most of what I remember of the layout, of Dr. Art Rosengarten's Tarot of the Future: Raising Spiritual Consciousness."  What I remember is that the first card represents what the client thinks is going on,  what it feels like. The second card tells us what is really going on, on a deeper level. I don't remember the third card, so I create my own interpretation. The third card tells us what path to take to remain in a positive light.

 

The important thing about the third card is that the reader needs to place the "Heart Card" first, and then the tarot card partially touching the Heart Card.

All this takes place in a hut like room, where I live. It's painted turquoise. It's on the side of a rural type road. People come inside all day for readings. One day I find, as I'm shuffeling the cards, yellow cards mixed in with the deck. The are oriented horizontally, the long way, which is odd. They are a bright yellow, not pretty. And strange sigil like markings on the cards. No words, title, numbers or symbols. A few of the cards had a faint impression of a Major Arcana card, but you had to look closely to see it.  

I don't like these cards. They're ugly, and there's an uncomfortable feeling about the cards orientation. I have no idea how these cards got here, but I have a strong sense of a presence -- for lack of a better way to describe, angelic -- has something to do with this. And yet, it's not a malevolent vibe or anything negative. Just something odd and uncomfortable.