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"The part we ignore…may contain the clue to the whole subject." ~ J. Allen Hynek

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dreams

Bubble Orbs and Dream Messages

August 15, 2019, Yachats, Oregon

As usual, looking up at the night sky for UFOs, — the daytime sky as well. Lots of UFO and Sasquatch activity on the Oregon coast and coastal range. But other than that, I wasn’t thinking of UFOs in particular. Hadn’t even been on-line because the wi fi is so iffy on the coast, and I  wasn’t reading any UFO books. (although I did have many with me, as well as notes on various UFO expereinces. My go to take along when I travel. Still, I hadn’t even looked at any of my notes or books.) The dream I had last night was just so damn intense. Interesting how the emotional  impact of a dream takes on such importance, no matter the subject or actions in the dream.

And, before this: I was having trouble sleeping. Not sure why. Mini migraines past two days and that’s unusual, I don’t get those on the coast. Had my sleep mask on. Felt something small get up on the bed; felt the pressure. It was definitely a small creature; it  kneaded the bed by my side a little and settled in.  At first I thought the movement  was from an earthquake. Or, that an animal had come through the open window, which of course makes no sense. (We were on the second floor.)  Then I got it: my cat had visited me. We left him at home and I was thinking of him, he hates it when we leave. Mango had sent me a ‘I miss you” message.

 

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UFO Music in a bubble

This dream was very intense. Throughout the dream was clear and strong message that I must remember this.

I’m standing in front of a large window. Black as black night sky. No stars. I hear music, but it’s not coming from where you’d think. Meaning, when we hear something, regardless of the kind of sound, it sounds. . . ‘normal’ it’s coming from somewhere. The sound might be odd, but the fact you can hear it isn’t. Hard to explain. But this sound, wasn’t in my head, and wasn’t from out there. It was from. . . another dimension. Inside a bubble  The best I can explain this is the sound I have heard in a few hauntings. Voices, EVPs, laughter, very clear, but not from . . . here. Not in my head, not from, say, the other room. But from another place. Another space. 

The music  I heard was classical, very nice. But not from here. Then white letters appear on this window, against the black sky. The dream itself is almost in black and white. Sentences  appear; “UFO. are REAL” and all kinds of other statements about the reality of UFOs. For emphasis some of the words get larger and move closer towards me. They — the aliens — are clearly communicating with me. And they want me to tell others. I can’t see these aliens, but their ship is clearly outlined in this dark sky. A very large ship. The words keep coming. The music is a part of ‘them’ — and it’s clear. Aliens (or at least these aliens) come from, not from outer space or within the earth but another dimension right next to us. All around us, all the time, they’re here, in bubbles — that’s how they travel. They’re aware of us and wish we could be aware of them. Some of us are. Most are not. 

And then, further information: these “bubbles” are related to the orange orb I saw, as well as other orbs. The message I received was: “These orbs (including your orange orb) are a part of this. We are UFOs. We are here. We are aware of you.”

Then theses aliens tell me I have to get the word out, and to help me,

I told my husband about the dream as we were driving back from the coast into Eugene. I mentioned that the emotional intensity, the importance of the dream, goes beyond the content. He said “It sounds more like a communication than a dream.” I agree. 

Sometimes dreams are “just” dreams. Other times, they are truly more than that; messages from the astral. From spirit. From . . . more. 

An added note: I love listening to the ocean while I’m going to sleep. Both nights we were on the coast, I tried very hard to ignore other sounds: my own snoring, my husband’s snoring, traffic from the highway, the occasional barking dog, people returning to their cabins. That night, I had finally succeeded in tuning out everything except the ocean roar, and had more than one “mind post card” — the brilliant silver tops of the waves jumping into my mind’s eye. It was intense, sudden and magnificant.

 

Oddly Curious, But Not Enough Be Truly Odd

 

 

 

 

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The other night, a sound woke me up. I heard a fluttering sound. It was a very odd sound, because it was very loud. It sounded like a giant moth was in the room, or, right outside the window. (Our bedroom window was open.) Whatever was making this fluttering sound was one huge creature. Like man sized. The sound didn’t last very long; maybe ten seconds. Then the sound just abruptly stopped. I didn’t hear it again. I went back to sleep.

The next morning, Jim asked me if I heard that “weird sound” last night. I said “You mean the fluttering sound?” He said, “No, I didn’t hear that. But I heard this odd humming noise, very loud. Kept me up, lasted about twenty minutes.”

I didn’t hear that sound, just the fluttering.

We also woke up later than usual that morning. Slept right through. Normally, we’ll wake up a couple of times, look at the clock, say to ourselves “Hmmm, another hour to sleep” and go back to dreamtime. That morning, nothing. We were out.

Seems like nothing much, but some things nag at me in the context of the Fortean/UFO Land/Goblin Universe realm, and I just throw these little episodes on the data pile.

Two Dreamers, No Memories

 

 

dreamingpixabay.jpgDreams. An amazing, intriguing realm. Readers of this blog know my fascination with dreams.

So last night, I had an incredible dream. Profound, trippy, important. The feeling of the dream is still with me. So damn important! I know this for a fact. And yet, how can this be, since I don’t remember the dream itself? Fascinating.

Adding to the fascination factor, is what Jim told me this morning. That he, too, had an incredibly amazing important dream. He knows it was simply astounding. But, he can’t remember a thing about the dream itself.

“Maybe we met each other out there,” he said to me, when we talked about this.

Who knows. Could be.

Old Files: Don Worley in UFO Magazine (?), Shared Experiences

 

 

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I found this article by researcher Don Worley that I clipped from (I think) UFO Magazine.  (Strange World Abductees.) I neglected to label the article with date or source. The illustration is marked 1991 Richard Runnels, so possibly the article is from 1991. 

Worley’s article is a collection of experiences by UFO witnesses and abductees. 

One experience Worley relates  has echoes of things I’ve experienced. Abductee “Carol” age 62 at the time of the article, has had many encounters. An early encounter in 1931 in Indiana:

“…a big black dirigible-shaped craft slowly floated over their home. Beneath it was a big hook hanging from a rope or chain.”

The object “slowly moved out of sight” above their roof.

 

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The following is a blog post from my Saucer Sightings blog (now defunct, but you can still read it on-line):

A recurring dream I had as a young child. Timeframe 1959, early 1960s. Los Angeles, California.  I had lots of dreams connected to alien, non-human beings, which included being floated out through walls and doors and placed in a large tree at night. There I’d sit/wait/watch the starry night sky…

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One recurring dream motif I remember has me standing outside, at night, on our block. Usually at the corner (near that large tree, that was easily three or four stories tall) which was at the corner. The tree belonged to our neighbor; we were the second house down from the corner. Waiting, outside, at night, sometimes I was with others, usually children. And up in the sky, not much higher than that tree, came the “ship.” Sometimes it was a giant basket, like the ones seen with hot air balloons. But no giant balloon; just the basket and something above that, like a dome thing, some kind of machine. Other times, instead of a basket, it was an over sized bathtub. Inside the baskets, or bathtubs, were one or two people, adults, in uniforms.

I had this dream many times. Always the same: at night, alone or sometimes with others, mainly children, in front of, or near, our house. Waiting. Waiting for what I thought of as my friends — these people in uniforms, in their floating bathtubs or baskets, were always pleased to see us. They took us away on purpose. This was a regular thing.

 

Another experience Carol had when she was eight concerns “an enormous hawk” :

…what seemed to be an enormous hawk soared in and landed unnaturally close to her in the pasture. Thisof course is contrary to the natural instincts of a hawk. She stood there looking at it and remembers nothing more. She doesn’t remember walking back to the house or the hawk flying away. [Worley]

I had an experience when I was very young; I must have been about three or four. This also appeared on my Saucer Sightings blog:

 

The Open Ceiling and The Eagle:

Category:Childhood Memory, dreams, animals

Location: Los Angeles, California

Date: approximately 1958

There was a silver suited alien on the patio at this house on Corning Street, . . but before that:

Before that, . . . I’m lying on my back in bed. I remember this as vividly as if it happened this morning; I also remember this as a “dream” but it was so damn real, I told myself afterwards it was a dream, because it doesn’t make sense that it could be real.

I’m in bed, in the middle of the bed, which is huge, though in “reality” my childhood bed wasn’t huge. Flat on my back. I’m both excited — exhilarated — but also a bit scared, not understanding what’s going on. There’s some confusion; my father is here, and I don’t understand why. He doesn’t live with us and he wouldn’t be here at night. My father, mother and grandmother are standing in the doorway; they can’t come in for some reason. They’re watching, but something prevents them from coming closer.  There’s a lot of activity, but I’m in the middle of my bed, which is huge,I’m kind of spread eagled, I can’t move. I have a sense of being tied up, but I don’t see anything that’s tying me, but something is preventing me from moving.I feel both fantastic and a little disoriented. Lots of bright, bright lights; everything is lit up so white. I look up at the ceiling, and it opens up, opening from the center, two halves moving back to expose the nighttime sky, which is beautiful, full of inky blue and shimmering stars. I think this is a pretty neat trick. A giant eagle flies down from above; the eagle is so large, it fills the sky, fills the open ceiling. It comes down straight at me. I don’t like this too much. I’m not exactly frightened, but it’s not comfortable. The eagle takes me up into a silver disk type thing. That’s all I remember…

One last account from the article, involving a “red-orange” object Carol saw in 1964:

…Carol had dressed to go to a social function. Suddenly, a. large brilliant red-orange object began to hover across the street casting an eerie glow over everything. The neighbors and Carol’s daughter became very excited: however, they would still not believe Carol’s story – and refused to look at the object. [Worley]

Worley doesn’t mention if the object was an orb shaped UFO or not. The orange orb I saw in the early 1980s was large, though I don’t recall it casting a glow — just lit from within. If the object Carol saw was an orb, this is record of an early orange orb, and a large one at that.

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Astral – Synch: Wingless Winged Woman

 

I call upon a deity : the winged woman. I ask her for her help.  A couple of days go by, Jim and I are talking in the living room, and a woman strolls right on by. Where did she come from? Long dark hair, causcasin, maybe early 40s. Tall, almost six feet.

She’s the personisfication of the winged woman. She is the Winged Woman. Except, she does not fly, and exhibits no wings.

I am surprised to see her, to know that she appeared.  Her response:  “Well you called  me didn’t you? Here I am.” Clearly she thinks I am one silly human.

At first she is nice, seems harmless. Tells me she is here to help.

Night, we’re outside. .She seems even  taller now. Almost seven feet. She sort of sits curled up on a little pedestal (fire hydrant?) and her vibe seems different. A little more calculating.  Still no wings. But she is definitely “the Winged Woman.” Whoever, whatever, that is. I don’t like her. I’m sorry I every called upon her.

Now we’re back in the living room. I smell something burnig. I look up, on top of our tall bookcase are boxes covered in paper with little birds in them. Baby birds. She set the birds on fire! I can hear them squeaking and sqawking. It’s horrible! I take down the boxes, try to save them. The winged/wingless woman is outside, smiling a nasty smug smile. Tells me she’ll save the birds if I do what she says. When I try to protest she tells me  that “this is what happens when you call upon beings and aren’t sure what you’re doing.”

That last line: “This is what happens when you call upon beings and aren’t sure what you’re doing” is certainly a truism. Be careful of what you wish for. Indeed.

Earlier that day, I was thinking, for some reason, about the winged woman sighting in Vietnam. And then dozed off in my garden and awoke to the awful sounds of crows and jays fighting; the crows attacked the baby jays in the apple tree. Poor babies. I know, circle of life.  Also, lots of packing at work due to classroom moves. And I have a recurring theme of birds; long forgotten birds in cages, boxes, still alive, waiting patiently, and I’m always amazed they’re still alive.

Today, saw this item on the Anomalist: The Frightening Supernatural Story of the Black Bird of Chernobyl.

“According to the legend, rumours went through the ranks of Chernobyl, that five employees had seen a large, dark headless creature with gigantic wings and fire red eyes. Chernobyl employees began sharing strangely similar experiences, some had horrifying nightmares, while others received threatening phone calls,” Maxwell said.

“The second account I’ve heard of this story comes from 2007 which says that people in and around the power plant began to experience a series of strange events revolving around sightings of a mysterious creature — also described as a large dark and mutated creature with large wings and piercing red eyes.

“People affected by the phenomena also experienced nightmares and had first-hand encounters with the winged beast.

1969, Vietnam: Earl Morrison saw, along with his fellow soldiers, a winged woman. The following is from an item by Nick Redfern at Mysterious Universe:

“We watched her go straight over the top of us, and she still didn’t make any noise flapping her wings. She blotted out the moon once – that’s how close she was to us. And dark – looked like pitch black then, but we could still define her because she just glowed. Real bright like. And she started going past us straight towards our encampment. As we watched her – she had got about 10 feet or so away from us – we started hearing her wings flap. And it sounded, you know, like regular wings flapping. And she just started flying off and we watched her for quite a while.” [The Glowing  Winged Woman of Vietnam, Nick Redfern at Mysterious Universe.]vintagewingedfemale.jpg

Tell Me More About the Beeping Dear

Just read my post (see previous “My Mother’s . . . Abduction?”) to my spouse. He and I have had several weird UFO related experiences together, including missing time, as well as our own in childhood, before we ever met.

When I got to the part about my mother talking about “the beeping” and my own beeping sounds in my head, Jim says, casually, “I’ve had that beeping too.”

After forty plus years of marriage, you think you know it all.

So dear, tell me more about this beeping!

Aliens Through the Wall: Then Why Did Ya Tell Me?!”

It seems when I sleep in the afternoon, the dreams are weirder. I’m recovering from oral surgery, feeling sloggy and groggy, and so, slept for a couple of hours. (And when I woke up, thought it was time for work and had a moment of confusion on what to wear.)

So, the dream. I’m working away on writing, reading, researching all about This Stuff. UFOs, aliens, with a few cryptids thrown in. The usual. It’s night; outside the window I can see the dark night sky, a few stars. A knock at the door, I answer. Three males, all very different and very odd, are standing there. Without a word they just come in, pushy!

They act like MIB but don’t look like MIB. (Men in Black.) One looks like a boy of about sixteen, but I know he isn’t a young boy. He’s not even human. In fact, I know that none of these “men” are human. The other looks somewhat like an human, except the he’s really tall, and the other, about five foot nine, well. He’s simply a humanoid outline full of purple glittery shimmering material that keeps swirling around.

These men warn me in very strong terms not to discuss my experiences, my research. They know all about what I’ve written in the past. Everything. Every blog post, every article, every reference to me, every journal entry, and every discussion I’ve had with others about UFOs.

I am very offended. I ask them, “Just who do you think you are?!” and they don’t answer. They then walk right through the wall! Now that terrifies me. Then they walk back out, into the living room. They tell me “Don’t fuck with us, lady. We’re serious. You CANNOT tell anyone about us!”

“Then why,” I ask, “Are you showing up here at all, and showing off your wall trick?”

That, they ignore. They just walk through the wall again.

Later, I’m at work, I think.  Somewhere. I get a few people close to me together, tell them they cannot, CANNOT, tell anyone what they’re about to see. We’re in a room, locked door, paper over the peep hole. 

I am telling these people because the “men” later told me I could, but only if we promise not to tell others. Turns out I have video of their going through walls.

After I show the video, some tell me they don’t believe it because it’s easy to fake things. True, good point. I don’t know what to say.

Then the “men” show up and go through walls again. That gets everyone’s attention.

 

What I found interesting in this dream was the show off nature of the aliens, or whatever they were, along with their warning not to tell anyone. I asked what I considered a very reasonable question: then why show me all this?

True, as we know, when weird experiences happen and we tell others about them, many times we’re not believed. But many of us are compelled to tell our stories anyway. And there is certainly a trickster element in the UFO/alien paranormal realm. Lots of bizarre actions — performances, really, by “them” — often with warnings of keeping the experience secret.

you can’t try for crazy

you can’t try for crazy

it just comes

natural like

and born of ….

well, you know:

drugs,

 trauma, 

loss,

 hurt, 

fear, 

sensitivity,

 psychosis, 

nightmares,

 poverty, 

perpetual poundings small and velvety soft

not being believed

finding yourself lost, without a map, a light, a sense of direction

feeling cold

pain —

that’s literal pain,

undiagnosed pain

told it’s all in your head pain

seeing the unseen, through the veil, within the fringe,

the shadows, the orbs and glows

hearing the voices not inside the head but

in the ether, up and to the left

that inside-an-empty-tin-can sound

crazy comes, stays, visits, stays awhile

sometimes it leaves

mostly, it stays

 

regan lee/4/2018/eugene, oregon

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