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.
