Retirement, Work Dreams, Drums, and the Children

 I retired from working in the education field for twenty -two months, after working in education for over thirty five years. And since then, I've had dreams of working in education several times a week. The dreams don't stop.

They have changed, however.

I started off dreaming that I was at work, and ... well, as usual. Then, the dreams shifted. I would show up at work, but wasn't aware of my schedule. Then, I'd show up, but told I had to continue working until they figured things out. After that, I dreamt I was told by HR that I "owed" them time. I had to work for another three months or so until I paid off my debt. Sort of like a student loan deal.

Then, arrived at work doing my own thing, and no one seemed to know why I was there or what I was to be doing, including me. Then I 'd start questioning my involvement; do I get paid? I love what I do but if I don't get paid, and don't have a schedule of expectations ...

And sometimes my professors -- and here it gets to be really important, according to my non-objective interpretation -- from the Folkore program at the U of O would show up. I am all mixed up; do I teach 3rd grade, or go into the Folkore side of things?

Last night I had a dream where I arrive at the elementary school, okay, fine. Nice to be with the kids. But before I could get there, I hear drums. A drum circle! So wonderful. A great big huge drum circle! I want to join but, while I do have a drum (in Waking Life, I do, a dumbek) I don't know much about how to play. I really don't know anything about rhythm, beat, bass, etc. Just that I want to DRUM!

So I walk away from the school, and go off in search of the drum.

Clearly, these dreams are telling me that I can still, somehow, in some way, work with kids, but in a new way. A new path. I just have to figure it out. Create a bridge between my own creative self with the children. Because I miss the children.

I really miss the children!

But not the bullshit bureaucracy, crazy parents, and politics.

A Very Strange OOBE

 

I had a highly unusual . . . OBE? Something, last night. I have never experienced anything like this before.

The experience had elements of familiar experiences: out of body, feeling "pulled" by something, or someone. Not being able to awaken my spouse. The awareness of an entity, or some kind of presence, an energy that was intelligent. The 'Old Hag" feeling, that sleep paralysis sensation.

But all those things, while present, don't come close to describing how incredibly and weirdly different last night's experience was. 

For one thing, I am not convinced I was dreaming. Not at all. Okay, I wasn't.

I find myself sitting upright in bed. Aware of a presence. I am all black; I've left my body and am next to myself. I can see myself. I am being pulled on my arms by ... a something. Or a someone. Or... some sort of intelligent thing. Creature? Being? Humanoid? Whatever it was, it wasn't human.

I try to get my husband to wake up. He wakes up easily. Not last night. I couldn't wake him up for anything. 

I don't like being pulled out of my body. And why am I all black, just my body shape? And if most all of me is "gone" (sitting beside myself, like I'm in a waiting room) why are they still pulling at me?

I finally get very pissed off. I tell them to knock it off. I'm scared, a bit. This thing that is happening is not pleasant, not good. It seems to stop, and I am still all black but back in my body, ready to leave it. I feel that buzzing feeling and hear the sounds that comes with OBE's.  I am both excited that I am leaving my body (my OBE's have become infrequent in my old age) but also nervous and wondering what now? But nothing happens. The presence leaves.

Again, this is so damn hard to explain. This whole episode was so intensely different than anything I have been through.

I'm a strong and vivid dreamer, always have been. I have had dozens of out of body experiences, all kinds of dreams on all kinds of levels, the sleep paralysis/Old Hag experience, etc. But this, this. Was just so out of anything I've experienced. This was a one of kind, highly strange, uncomfortable experience. Downright fucking weird as hell.

Please Support the UFOlogy Tarot Campaign on Kickstarter - The Daily Grail

Please Support the UFOlogy Tarot Campaign on Kickstarter - The Daily Grail

I'm excited about this idea! Greg Bishop and RPJ (Red Pill Junkie) have collaborated on a tarot card project -- a UFO Tarot deck. 

If you can, donate to the cause. 

I often use the Tarot to help in discovering clues to my UFO experiences. Various decks. (The most interesting one being the Deviant Moon deck.) So a deck created specifically to address the UFO experience, well, pretty creative.

Green Man, Playground Abduction, 'I BELIEVE in Jaysus!'

 Dreams concerning aliens, ETS, the other realm, UFOs . . . some research is on-going concerning a connection between waking experiences involving these things, and the dream world. (Google and all kinds of links to interesting research and studies will pop up.)

So, last night's dream:

After school, on the playground, with another staff member or two, and a group of children, waiting for the bus and parent pick-up. Getting on dusk. Earlier in the day, I had gone to a few bookstores and came across various magazines and books about The Green Man. Met a person with an interest in Green Man and we had quite a conversation. I was thinking about all the Green Man synchronicities as I was waiting with the students. 

It's getting a bit chilly. Things feel . . . odd. Suddenly, large brilliant white lights appear in the sky above us, come down, we're all frightened and these lights are behaving as one, intelligently controlled. The lights form a circle of lights above us and scoop us up. Not only the people, but part of the playground - the black top -- as well. Just scooped out a large circle of ground with us on it and brought us into the ship.

Now we're standing on this large circle of blacktop inside a spaceship. 

We're very scared, and the ship is zooming around, just a few feet above houses. We can see outside, but the craft is cloaked. No one sees us. It's like "they" -- the aliens -- are toying with us. We are so lost! We're pretty sure we're still on earth, but, where? We don't recognize the neighborhoods. I'm afraid we're going to be dropped off in the middle of a strange area and how will we get back, how will I get the children safe?

The aliens are Reptilians. We can't see them, but we just know this. We are very aware of their presence. They're above us in the ship, watching us. Like we're a toy. A game. 

Now we're zooming off into outer space, and this time I am really terrified. But also angry. I start to pray to Jesus, which, even as I'm doing so, is ticking me off, since I am not a Christian and don't believe at all in a divine Jesus. But I'll try anything in order to save us. So I pray like crazy and promise Jesus that I'll believe if only he'll get us out of here.

Then one of the Reptilians calls down to me: "Do you really mean that?"

"Yes!!!!" I say.

"That's all we wanted to know. "

They return us to the playground. By this time parents are there, panicked, naturally. I wonder how in the world are we going to explain this but it doesn't take much, since everyone has seen the ground open up, the ship return us, etc. And one of the men on the ship goes on the news to explain how the Reptilians were showing him how part of him is Reptilian, exposing his lizard face under his real face.

The believe in Jesus part has me interested, if not also annoyed. When I was writing my Orange Orb column for UFO Magazine I wrote a column about Jesus saving me from the aliens. When I lived in my father's house in Northern California, I was having extremely intense dreams of aliens. (I also had a dream where I woke up coughing due to the strong odor of incense, heard chanting and a misty blurry priest during mass; turns out the house belonged to a Catholic priest who died in that room.) Finally, in one of the dreams, I prayed to Jesus to keep the aliens away. It worked. Which confused me. I'm not a Christian. I don't believe in that. However, I did spend eight years in Catholic school. I didn't believe any of it back then either.

Gray Alien Geisha Collage

Inspired my by dream encounter, years ago right after seeing the orange orb, of the tall white Insectoid-gray wearing a Geisha wig inside the ship. 

I've been busy with my mixed media work. Little of it has to do with the realm of the strange, but I created this digital collage awhile ago.

Exploding Head Syndrome

 Recent Boing Boing item on Exploding Head Syndrome. Yep, I have the same thing. Long ago worried about it. Do I have a tumor? Am I psycho? What is happening? But it's "just" Exploding Head Syndrome. Bright lights, flashes, weird beeping electronic sounds. No explanation for its cause, but, not to worry, say the experts. It's harmless.

Exploding head syndrome (EHS) is an abnormal sensory perception during sleep in which a person experiences unreal noises that are loud and of short duration when falling asleep or waking up. The noise may be frightening, typically occurs only occasionally, and is not a serious health concern. People may also experience a flash of light. Pain is typically absent. Despite the name, the sufferer's head does not actually explode. [wikipedia, via Boing Boing]

That may be. Seems to be. Fine. I'm good with that. But. . .

It still is at thing. What is it, and why? And is there some connection between other sleep related phenomena, like sleep paralysis, OBEs, (out of body experiences), lucid dreaming, vivid dreams, dreaming in color, sleep walking? All of which I've experienced since childhood, and still experience.

Combine that with a long list of supernatural/paranormal/UFO/anomalous episodes, there has to be a connection here. A clue. More than meets the eye than "just" some seemingly random odd but harmless (and therefore, don't worry about it little missy) occurrence like Exploding Head Syndrome.

Vintage Find: Spenser's Faerie Queene, Book 1

 Found this today in the book section of St. Vinnie's.  A 1911 edition of Spenser's Faerie Queene Book 1.

And, as I was leafing through this delightful find, this little owl fell out! Perfect.

Now, to find Book 2.

Two Pieces: Mothy Owl and Reptilians in the Classroom

 The other day, I posted about my failure regarding a piece I was working on about the orange orb. (You know, that orange orb.)

But I also feel pretty good about other pieces, including these two, that have a slight weirdness vibe.

Like this one: "Mothy Owl" collage, paper and watercolor on canvas board.

'Mothy Owl,' collage. Paper, watercolor on canvas board, Regan Lee 2021

And this one, a digital collage about our Reptilian friends:

'Mrs. Englebeery's Limited Career,' digital collage, Regan Lee 2021

UFOs: Graphic Matrix Webby Things

UFO Geo Scan, oil pastel on black paper, Regan Lee 2021

 Dream last night:

I'm standing outside my house, at night. Looking up at the sky. A voice over -- male -- from some podcast. I hear him. He talks about "orange orbs" and UFOs in general. Then, in the sky, I see colorful graph like formations appearing. Sort of like stationary fireworks. But not quite as spectacular. Very precise, geometric. Matrix type "drawings" in the sky.

With their appearance, I just know -- it is telepathically conveyed -- that UFOs are, often, ET, etc. But originate from a program. Geometry. Sacred geometry. And from that web, that mass of crossing lines and shapes, comes UFOs. And from the UFOs, all kinds of things. ETs, aliens, elementals, MIB, MIBLABS, what have you. 

 

Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

A new drawing, trying to recreate what I called "fuzzy puppet wolves" -- entities that visited me when I was a child. 

Fuzzy Puppet Wolf Entities, ink pen on paper, Regan Lee 2021

I wrote this piece about a childhood memory for my Trickster Realm’s column at Tim Binnall’s Binnall of America back in 2007.

 

I had to be in bed, flat on my back. Concentrate on the warm yellow light shining under the bedroom door. Then “they” came, several of them, oh, at least four, and somewhere I was levitated, floating through the doors.

I don’t remember what they looked like, or if I ever knew. I do “know” they were small, about my size. Skinny too, not human, like us.

Sometime around age thirteen or so these episodes became less frequent. As I wrote recently on my blog, it was rare when I could intentionally cause these episodes, and when they happened spontaneously, they became scary. I’d often shut down before I could leave my body.

Another event that happened frequently was the “puppet wolves,” visitations, as I called them. These events were connected somehow with the above, but also different. They weren’t the same creatures, for example. It wasn’t quite as pleasant either. And I remember some events happening during the day; still in bed, but daytime.

The fuzzy puppet wolves were very small, not more than about twenty-four inches tall. They were fuzzy/furry, gray, and reminded me of puppets. They weren’t exactly malevolent, but they were quick to be extremely mischievous, pushy, and just not as “nice” as the others. I could see these guys, and remember to this day what they looked like. The other guys, I don’t remember at all, except that they were small. The puppet wolves would gather around my bed, several of them, and they were insistent. They didn’t take no for an answer, and I’d have to go with them. I don’t remember anything other than that.

Not long ago, my husband “Joe” and I were talking about our childhood “weird” experiences; memories of the paranormal, or whatever word you want to use. Before I said anything, he began to tell me of something that happened to him sometimes when he was a kid. While he was in bed, furry gray “things” would gather around the edges of the bed, and tug at him, taking him away. (Neither of us remember where we went.)

I asked him if they reminded him in a way, of wolves; he said yes. Small nasty little wolf puppet, or stuffed animal-toy beings. He had never heard my story before.

Another Synchronicty between us. When faced with all these parallel experiences, going back deep into childhood, I find that I can’t ignore things like karma, or metaphysical connections, or reincarnation, or. . . something. I’m not sure what it means, but to say it doesn’t mean anything is supremely incorrect.

The Wolf as Totem

I refer to these nasty little beings as “wolves” yet they didn’t hold the wolf spirit. In fact, the wolf is my totem, and the Wolf Clan is one of the clans of the Lenepe, my grandfather’s tribe. (So I’m told.) I’ve had amazing dreams of wolves; often in connection with white wolves and teachers. I call upon Wolf often and he is my friend and guide.

But at the time, a child unfamiliar with the gift of Wolf and all its meanings, I tended to think of these persistent unpleasant creatures as wolves.

Puppet Symbology and Invisibility

It’s interesting that I thought of these beings as puppets; that is, puppets without any people operating them. They were just empty moving “skins.” They were footless, too, no legs. A screen memory, a false impression to cover whatever was “really” there? Puppet implies that something else is behind it; that the puppet isn’t doing the thing, the person operating the puppet is in control. Whatever was behind the wolf puppets was not revealed. Or, remembered.

Invisible Aliens

In looking back over a lot of what I’ve written about aliens and odd experiences, I realize I use the term “invisible alien” a lot. I don’t recall what they looked like, these beings that came to float me out doors at night. I don’t remember parts of UFO sightings I’ve had; missing time. Whether these are connected or not I don’t know.

There are many layers to these kind of experiences, and I suspect symbols replace symbols that replace yet other symbols, all to make us more comfortable, to protect us, — or us to protect ourselves — as we try to exist in the mundane world. Our journeys into the astral/other worlds remain submerged in our subconscious. It’s been so for a very long time, as has our need to go down and retrieve these memories. Retrieve the correct memories. With each “dive” into our subconscious, we move closer to some kind of understanding.

(for example, I wrote that I had to concentrate on the yellow light underneath the bedroom door. I told my mother about these experiences, and she insisted that there was never a light on in the hall after we went to bed. I asked her, then, what light was it that I was seeing? she had no idea.)

Was my memory of the light a true one of the hall light, and it is my mother that is incorrect? Or is my mother right, and my memory of the hall light a cover memory for a very different kind of light, from a very different source?

I wonder if I’ll ever know.

#ufo #supernatural #paranormal #astral #dreams #art #cryptids 

 

 Recently, I was interviewed on Barbara Fisher's excellent podcast Six Degrees of John Keel. It was so much fun! We talked about many things, including tarot. As I said on the podcast, The Fool is my favorite tarot card. 

Of course, we also talked about orange orbs and all manner of weirdness.

Fisher and her co-host Morganna were fantastic hosts and I was honored to be on their program.

While you're over on the site, check out Fisher's art. I love her art; the use of mixed media, her vibrant colors, and her overall style. 

____________________________________________________

THE FOOL, from Barbara Moore's Wonderland Tarot

I recently bought this deck. There are a few decks out there with Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass themes. This deck was created by Barbara Moore.  

The Fool, from the Diamond Tarot

This deck is a Rider-Waite-Coleman deck but with vivid colors and psychedelic, colorful borders around each card. The deck is out of print and hard to find, and expensive! I've seen the deck offered at $300.00 and more. But I found the deck on eBay for about $30.00 after months of diligent watching. Today however, I saw the deck priced at $20.00. 

Regan Lee,The Fairy Killer

 Robert Moss on Dreaming

Listened to Robert Moss last night on Coast to Coast. Moss is author of many books on dreaming. As readers of The Orange Orb know, I am fascinated by dreams. I had not heard of Moss before, but after listening to the interview last night I have ordered his recent book. 

Moss suggested setting intentions for your dreaming journey. I have many themes going on in my subconscious -- one thing I dream about a lot are animals.  For example, this is a mail art card I created recently and sent out:

Did I dream of a giant snail? And if so, what did I tell it?

“I’m going back to sleep” I said.

“Why?” he asked.

“I need to find out what I said to the snail.”             

MAIL ART by R. Lee 2020

 I set an intention last about my cat. I made up a little mantra: 'Manifest Mango Mind Meld.' Asking what Mango wants me to know. (He is fourteen and has been having trouble with his back legs.) 

Nothing there. But I did have the following dream:

Regan Lee, Fairy Killer

The curtain opens, revealing a kitchen set. My back is to the audience. I am wearing a white shirt, dark brown palazzo style pants that are short; the stop at the knees. A wide belt that holds a few daggers. 

I am looking quickly through the cupboards, on the counters. Now and then I spin around and look off to the sides, then go back to what I was doing. This goes on for about thirty seconds. Then I turn around, and face the audience. I go into a monologue. I talk about what I do, which is hunt fairies. "Oh, don't be fooled," I say, "these little glittery fairies, with their pink and violet and transparent wings and tiny sweet bodies are full of it. They are not to be trusted. They are often invisible, and are out to trick you. They are dangerous."

I show off my daggers. I assure the audience I know how to handle them. There's a slight comedic air about the whole thing though. A dagger accidentally slips from my hands and lands a fairy -- it goes "Squeak! Ack!" and dies. I say, "Oops, well, sometimes . . ." everyone laughs.

When my monologue is over, I leave the stage. End of Scene 1. Applause. They love me! Backstage, everyone tells me how great I was. "You're a really good actress," they say.

I feel great. 

 

Robert Moss said to check in with how you feel about the dream. The dream could be about anything, and for one person, that dream could be a nightmare, for someone else, it could be healing. My dream of being an actress and a fairy killer was a good dream, as weird as that may sound. I woke up feeling fantastic. Empowered. 

The Kitchen Fairy

Jim and I often say we have a kitchen fairy. We're not joking. This house has always had a slight other-presence vibe to it, especially when we first bought the place twenty-five years ago. The house was built in 1927.  To this day, things go missing in the kitchen, only to be found in the weirdest places in the kitchen. There are only the two of us here (and Mango!) and neither one of us is a prankster kind of person. I've never had a negative feeling from this kitchen energy, but not a super helpful friendly one either. Maybe it just is, and wants our attention. I don't know if this kitchen fairy of ours has anything to do with last night's dream, but I don't think it does. Just the feeling I have about it.

Fairies, Animals and The Stage

I also dream often of being on stage. Of performing, sometimes signing which is funny since I can't sing at all. I wish I could, that's one of my fantasies, that I am one hell of an amazing singer. I come from circus folk (literally) and a family involved with acting. I was a theater major at one time. 

Last night, before I settled on my Mango intention, I was bouncing around with ideas. So many dream themes and landscapes and questions! For awhile I was thinking about animals; why do I dream of animals so much, big cats but all kinds as well? And why do I dream of my performing on stage, and in circus like traveling groups, often with Jim, and often taking place hundreds of years ago? One powerful dream I had of us both as performers in Western Europe has both of us intuitively knowing that it had to do with a past life.

 Last night, I'm on stage, talking not about animals but fairies, which are not human, not animal. Something else, an other. I am banishing them. I see them for what they are. And yet it's a performance.

I was acting.  And yet, on the stage, it felt real. I was really sincere about the fairies, and the fairies that appeared on the stage were real. At this point, all I can say is reality beyond, or behind, another reality, that seems like a cover or not real, but is, even while being presented as "only acting." 

Many Green Eyed Cat, Animal Spirit Oracles, and Mango

Mango, my cat.

Yesterday I rearranged my altar space. I realized my tarot decks, oracles, stones and crystals, and other magickal objects were scattered all over. Many in the room of doom, er, room of possibilities (thank you Karyn Dolan) that we are in the process of redoing. 

I set up a lovely but crowded table in the bedroom full of stones, etc. and underneath the table, a basket full of tarot decks. Next to the that, on the floor, a basket with my oracle decks, many of them animal oracles, like the Animal Spirits deck, Natives, Druid, etc. 

I had a strange dream last night:

I'm walking on a busy sidewalk; it has to do with the school but also, just people not connected to the School. Sort of a combination of school and grocery store. I see a beautiful kitten on the ground. It has the markings of a bengal cat (domestic) and also, like a cloud leopard. It is simply a stunningly beautiful animal! And it has the most brilliant green eyes! 

I worry though. Something seems wrong with the cat. It has trouble walking. (my cat Mango has trouble walking; he walks with a weird gait due to past injuries, including being attacked by a pit bull. Somehow, Mango managed to escape from the bastard's mouth.) I pick up the cat, so sweet! But am put off by what I notice: it has three eyes! The third eye is not in the third eye place, it's above it's left eye. Weird. Almost disgusting, but not quite. 

A veterinarian walks by. He says he will treat the cat for free, and, that the eyes are not a problem. It looks weird, he agrees, but nothing to worry about. It doesn't affect the cat's health or vision in any way. I look closer and see yet another eye just beginning to get larger above the third one! 

I try to get passers by to take the cat, but everyone says they don't have the time, or money, to get involved. So I end up with this cat, even though I wonder if it will survive.

Sometime during the night I heard a weird scrambling sound. Mango, my cat, usually sleeps on our bed. But this sound was coming from the closet area, and where the little altar table is. I found that Mango had managed to get himself into the basket I had full of animal oracles. (At least it wasn't the tarot cards.) He spent the whole night there. It didn't seem like it'd be comfortable; all those hard cardboard little boxes full of cards (a few in pouches) still, he seemed happy.

 

A Question About Abduction Regression Leads To . . .

 I asked Lon Strickler yesterday if he knew if a certain psychic could do a regression on me regarding my missing time incident. He told me that this person doesn’t do that type of work. I’m not sure what prompted me to ask him that; it was a spontaneious moment. I replied that I do have a contact locally for someone that does that type of work, so I will contact them.

I told my spouse about this last night, as we were sitting on our porch, enjoying the early evening and nice breeze. Again, I’m not sure why I mentioned it.

Then last night, I had the following dream:

I’m in one of my recurring dream-scapes. This is the one where the elementary school is two stories, and I alwasy get lost. After assisting in the third grade classrooms upstairs, I am schedled to go downstairs to the second grade classroom. But I always hate this, becuae I always get lost. Other staff doesn’t get lost, why is it always just me? There are two staircases, and, elevators. One stairway, one elevator, takes you to the classrooms. The others . . . well, a dead end. And you can never find your way back in. 

No matter how hard I try to remember, write down directions, etc. I always get the wrong one, and get lost. Same today. And so, of course, I am not only late for my classroom, but never do get there. On my way trying to figure out which stairs to take, which direction to go, the principal comes down the hall. She says good morning, thank god. I was afraid she was going to ask me what was I doing. Then again, I think to myself, I only have a week to go and then I retire. (In reality, I retired this spring.) 

I finanlly choose an elevator, get off, and take a stairway, and damn it!! Again. No idea where I am. Can’t get back in. I start walking, very strange underground garage kind of place but no cars. Dust and concrete and pipes. A large man is stumbling around, he is bleeding and seems very confused, dazed. Another man -- I have the impression he’s a doctor of some kind -- is trying to get rid of this man. He’s telling the man that yes, he’s been abducted, and yes, it’s over for now, just keep going, keep going, you’ll be okay, don’t say anything, etc.

             Actor Christopher Plummer.

 

I am afraid. I know that I too have been abducted. This doctor sees me and refuses to talk with me. I tell him I now know where I am, sort of. That it has somehting to do with “them” and abductions. He pretends he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Then I get really angry. “Well, at least tell me how to get back to the school!” He won’t. Tells me I have to figure it out for myself.

A friend of mine; sister? Not sure. She’s here. We’re now walking around, lost, wandering in and out of very dim rooms. It’s daylight but hard to see. A tall man comes out (Christopher Plumber, don’t ask me why all these movie stars are in my dreams lately) is not human. He looks human, but it’s a disguse. He attacks us for trying to find out things. Why are we here, where are we, how to get back, what happened to the man who said he was abducted, why it is a secret, was I abducted, what is GOING ON?!

He refuses to answer and is angry to be asked.

Somehow, we get away. Not back to teh school but out of this dim, underground type of place. At least we’re out in the open now.

Ah, the underworld. A sort of Alice in Wonderland dream. Down that rabbit hole for sure.

Secrets. Things Not To Be Known. Keepers of those secrets. 

Why?

It’s as if some dreams are one giant tarot card that is to be interpreted. 

The Dreaming Mind: Reincarnation, UFOs

 Evidence for reincarnation? 

Now and then, I dream that I'm in France. Often centuries ago, 1600s? And the "me" in the dream is younger, and blonde. I don' have a particular thing about France; I don't have French ancestry (I'm pretty much 100% Celtic, as white as one can be) and I'm not young, or blonde. There's often a circus, pageant type feel to the dream. Sometimes there's a show going on, like a jousting match, or some kind of performance. It's all mixed up with royalty and death and escapes.

1947 Sergio Leone Film

In this dream, I'm watching a film but, as dreams will do, it quickly changes view and is really happening and I am in the film. The film is one made in 1947, directed by Sergio Leone, the Italian spaghetti western director. I think to myself, when I see the date, "1947, that's a year before Jim (my spouse) was born, and seven years before I was born. " For some reason that struck me as odd. 

Scene One

The actress Joan Davis, tall, wearing a tight fighting man's suit like a flamenco dancer's costume, walks slowly and silently across the sandy floor of the circus. She is not at all the funny woman she is known for -- she is deadly serious, and silent. She is sometimes mistaken for a mute. Her hair is dark brown, in little twisty braids, a scarf covering part of her head. John Gilbert is in front of her, leading her. It's clear he is in control of her; she is a slave, imprisoned. The emcee is Claude Rains, dressed in black top hat, cape and a walking stick. He too is in control. Things are not good. Something bad is going to happen.

Scene Two

Joan/me escape. Not sure how it happened but with the help of Liam Neeson, (and I think in the dream how could Liam Neeson be in a film made in 1947?) I escape and we have to hide out in a loft above the circus tent.

When I woke up I just knew this had something to do with the past. A past life, related to the dreams of France, etc.? Senses and emotions are the dream rulers, not logic. Actors from long ago, one from not long ago, and a comedian in a role utterly opposite what she was known for. 

Dream Two: UFOs; It's Ours! 

Yes, I dream of UFOs a lot. And here's one more:

Night, outside with a lot of people. The stars are beautiful, so many! Watching a star get bigger, closer, rotating and zooming towards us. Then it stops, above us in the sky. No longer a star but large light blue heptagon with round depressions all around it. Somehow, I can touch this thing. I push against the depressions. Nothing happens. People are excited thinking it's a UFO from outer space -- theirs, not ours. But somehow I know this isn't "theirs" (aliens) it's ours. Man made. I just know it. Something to do with the depressions in this oddly shaped thing. People argue with me; insist that it is an alien craft. Meanwhile, all kinds of UFOs of different shapes, colors and sizes are appearing around us, but no on notices them. I try to tell them that they have to look and they'll see UFOs that do belong to aliens, but this one that I'm touching? Not alien at all, but man made. No one believes me.

Oddly Curious, But Not Enough To Be Truly Odd

I'm still here! Actually, over there, on Word Press. Orange Orb is now on Word Press, has been for awhile now. Many thanks to those who are curious enough to check out Orange Orb on Word Press. For example, this post, on a not very interesting but still kind of weird episode.

Journaling Animal Dreams, Tracking Connections (and a Boy Chicken)

Jim mentioned awhile ago that I dream a lot about animals. He finds this unusual. He also has an active dream life, but doesn't dream about animals that much. I don't know if it's unusual or not, but I do dream a lot about animals, both real and imaginary.

I'm inspired once again to start an animal journal. About five years ago I started one, but it wasn't just about animal dreams, but all things to do with animals, all the little synchronicities. Writing in the journal became a big job, including all those things. It didn't last long.

This time I'm sticking to animal dreams.

I've also been thinking of my fascination with animal stories, particularly the stranger ones. That comes from having a Fortean leaning towards life. I posted here a while ago that a professor of mine wanted to know what I was planning to do with my collection of interesting and unusual animal stories. I didn't know. I'm still not sure, but I think it's a start to finding out … something.

I am beginning to believe that animals, as guides and messengers, have a lot to do with this journey.

And now, here's a dream about a chicken:

I'm in the backyard of our house, and alongside the bedroom window (where, on the other side, is our bed, and this location outside the window seems to be one for animals in other dreams) is a penned in area with chickens. One of these chickens is a male. Not a rooster. But a male. Only a chicken. It's very clear in the dream this is a chicken, but a male chicken. He's big and fluffy and very sweet. 

All the chickens are asleep. They're on their sides, on the ground, and at the end of this line of cuddled together sleeping chickens, is a large, sleeping raccoon. I'm very worried at first this raccoon will eat the chickens, but he means no harm, he just wants to get warm. I wonder if I shouldn't cover the chickens, (and the raccoon) so they don't get cold. But I'm worried they won't be able to breathe. 

I try to give the male chicken away. I'm not sure why, I like him, it's just weird. But all my neighbors who have chickens have plenty of chickens and they don't want him. They like him and find it interesting I have a male chicken -- it's not they find him ugly or digesting, they just don't have room.
So I keep him. 

Later, in front of the house, and looking up at the night sky, my husband and I and others see a flock of beautiful birds. At first, only I see can see the birds. I'm surprised no one can see them, because they're huge. The size of prehistoric birds. They remind me of the Phoenix, but they're Phoenixes. They have delicate, long wings and tails. Their wings and tails are ruffled at the edges, and these are transparent. It turns out the birds have been there all along, but no one's bothered to really look. They are beautiful. I wonder if they're even "real" -- they're really there, but if they're not of another dimension, or reality. Or planet, even. Something. 

I haven't explored this dream yet to figure out it's meaning. Or, it could just be the effects of a few days of cold medication and disrupted sleep.
But this is the first entry in my animal dream journal nonetheless.

Childhood Memories: An Obvious Connection in the Pattern

You'd think that, after a life time of exploring my own UFO and anomalous  experiences, as well as the experiences of others, I'd recognize the obvious. Which is, a pattern, a connection, between locations. For example:

I was thinking, for some unknown reason --  just my mind going back -- to my "giant eagle" experience. This happened when I was about four, maybe three, and in the house on Corning St. in Los Angeles. It's my first memory of something weird and powerful -- nope. (That happened even earlier, in another house a few blocks from the Corning St. house.)

The second memory, a year or so later, very different in many ways: what was seen, as well as what I felt. But, it also happened in the house on Corning St. In the first Corning St. experience, I felt incredible awe and joy, no fear. The second, I felt fear and anger.

Before those two experiences, were two odd experiences in the house we lived in before Corning St. One memory: a giant metal cylinder type of thing, coming towards me at night, while I was in bed, frightened. Strange ribbon like things, like colorful tendrils, waved out at me as this thing floated towards me.

The second memory, looking outside my bedroom window at night, because I heard Santa's reindeer bells on the roof. Except, it wasn't December. And in both memories, I remember me being on the second floor, where my bedroom was. Of course -- yes you guessed it -- there was no second floor.

In later years, I assumed my cylinder memory was of a heater in the bedroom. But my mother insisted, when I told her of this experience, that there was no heater or object of any kind she could think of in that room.

In our third house (again, just a block or two from the other homes) more experiences. One, dancing with my friends -- the invisible aliens. I didn't call them aliens at the time, but I knew they weren't human. For one thing, they didn't look human. About my size (four feet or so) transparent, spindly things. The other experience: many times, floating out through the doors and walls, assisted by these same invisible beings, where'd I wait outside, at night, for "them" to come and take me on up. (Oh, and then there is the parallel experience of the "fuzzy puppet wolves" where my husband had a similar childhood experience.) One more: when my mother, excited, called out to us because she was witnessing a UFO in the sky. No one believed her, except me. Disappointed the UFO zipped off, my mother was watching, hoping it would return.  I told her (she insisted I said this, I don't remember) not to worry, it will come back, for "they always come back," I said.

Eight very different memories, in three locations. As different as these memories are, they share a nagging feeling that somehow, as bizarre as they may seem, they are connected.

Psychic Warrior Flash: Dreams, the Djinn

Very good article about the strange experiences with the Djinn from military personnel at Mysterious Universe: Strange Military Encounters with the Jinn |.


While reading the article, the following sentence gave me a start:

 One retired remote viewer for the U.S. military named David Morehouse wrote of his own experience in his book Psychic Warrior. 

Those two words: "psychic warrior" reminded me of a dream I had last night. Lately, I've been having some interesting dreams -- see my post at my Orange Orb Tarot blog -- last night, I dreamt I was back in that shop, and someone (unseen, from above) had given me a silver bracelet with the words Psychic Warrior stamped on it.

MORE Missing 411 High Strangeness: "Predator Saran-Wrap" Synchronicity

I had a strange dream the other night, which I posted here and on my Frame 352 Sasquatch blog. That dream had to do with David Paulides Missing 411 books and what I called a "predator" type being:

Out of nowhere, I am grabbed by invisible hands. I sense their presence, I know that they are here, but I can’t see who -- or what -- they are. I get a glimpse of these things. They shimmer in and out, sort of like the Predator. These things look human like in some ways. They have two arms and legs like humans, etc. But they are about seven feet tall and muscle bound, like The Hulk. They grab me by the arms and feet and drag me up the hill. My friends are completely unaware of what’s going on. I scream with everything I have but they can’t hear me. (Regan Lee, Orange Orb)

A few odd coincidences followed that post, which I also wrote about here.

Last night, David Paulides was the guest on Coast to Coast. George Knapp was the host. Great interview. Paulides was on to discuss his new book Missing 411: Hunters. During that interview, Knapp and Paulides discussed the strange experience of Jan Maccabee. She is married to UFO researcher Dr. Bruce Macabee. In that interview, Paulides describes a shimmering, predator like being Ms. Macabee saw -- and photographed -- while out in the woods in his article, complete with images, “Predator in the Forest” or Jan's Weird Experience. The following is from Maccabee's article:

Suddenly the woods went quiet.  Noise stopped. The silence was “weird.”  It so surprised and unnerved her that she wrote a text message to her friend (thereby documenting this event): Something is wrong.  The woods just went to a dead silence. No squirrels, no birds, no crickets.  Is odd!  (6:23 PM EDT) She thought a coyote or maybe a black panther or some predator animal caused the quiet as she knows (as hunters know) that when a predator such as a bear, for example, enters an area the other animals tend to become quiet.  Then she became aware that a weird visual “effect” was moving rightward across her field of view at an apparent distance of maybe fifteen to twenty feet.  She described it as if looking through "saran wrap."  Perhaps a more apt comparison would be like looking at a mirage above a hot road.  She compared this distortion of the scene as being somewhat like the effect of the invisible creature in the PREDATOR movie!  This distortion was at a higher altitude than her 15 ft above the ground, perhaps about 25 ft above the ground..  She took her glasses off and rubbed her right eye thinking at first she had a floater (a mote in the eye).  But after rubbing it was still there and not a floater. (Bruce Maccabee) 

When I heard Paulides describe the predator, sara-wrap type image, I almost fell out of the chair! While there are differences between the dream and the shimmering, predator like effect Jan Macabee saw, (desert/woods, dream/reality) the specific similarity of the predator image is certainly startling.