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The Orange Orb on WordPress

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

Category

dreams

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

Talking Bigfoot on Arcane Radio podcast

Earlier tonight, guest on Lon Strickler’s Arcane Radio podcast. An enjoyable conversation indeed, and many thanks to Lon. It was good to actually talk to Lon “in person” after knowing him on-line all these years.

Paralyzing Dream: Inside the Lab-Ship

 

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Dreams are a mystery. They still remain so, even with new theories on the hows and whys. It’s a given, as far as this blog is concerned, that dreams are far more than just random crazy brain dumping of the mundane  stuff that went on during one’s day.

I was going over an old journal entry from 1980; a UFO related dream. And I thought, why? Why dream about UFOs at all, back then, when I knew very little at all about the subject? No reason. Except that I had had my orange orb sighting at the time. Then the dreams followed:

I’m in a room with doctors and scientists. Surrounded by recording type machines and all types of official looking equipment. It’s been somehow agreed I will try to tell them what’s going on, by hypnosis or some trance like state.

During this dream, there is a part of me that is quite detached, watching all of this, while another part of me is inside the dream actively taking part. This part of me is helpless. I’m not in control, I am just …here.

One of these scientists deals in para-psychology, he is talking to me. I go into a trance state. Another voice — male–  starts to speak through me.  The voice is coming from another planet,  communicating through me. I relax, I am not frightened and allow this doctor and who, whatever it this being is talking through me. As I relax, this voice/me tells us about a map. This map shows where these beings come from; where their planet is. Two other voices start to speak through me. And I know, I feel, these are two very different people, beings, than myself.  My being has literally been invaded by outside forces. And they are extremely evil. They’re angry and don’t want me and this other being, tellings the human scientists where this planet is.

This is where I struggle to wake up. I feel completely paralyzed and am very scared. I think I’m really awake; I start to moan and I try to scream, but I can’t. Jim wakes up, and tries to comfort me.

Then I really start to wake up, and am startled, because I thought I was awake already. I’m sweating, my heart is beating fast, I am so damn scared! Too afraid to go back to sleep. I think of going downstairs — reading, drawing, watching, tv, a cup of soothing tea, something to relax me and let me know the reassuring reality of things around me. But I’m too afraid to get up and away from a warm human body. (Jim.)

I’m feeling so silly, it was just a bad dream, but I can barely move. And for days afterward, I was in a fog that I couldn’t come out of.

Eugene, Oregon, January 29, 1980

Why do we dream what we do? In this context, it seems odd to dream this dream, especially considering I had many dreams of this kind at the time. And they are all within the context of the orange orb sighting. And other sightings as well; there was a revolving silver sphere above a pasture, emitting a beam of light from underneath onto the ground. It seems that this dream as well as the others, are connected to these sightings.

We know that dreams of UFO/alien (or at least non-human ‘others’) and awake encounters with craft, beings, are connected.

So my question is:  are these dreams of mine a form of memory of real events experienced during waking hours?

1978 UFO Dream-memory

Cleaning out my study; lots of old files, and books, and all kinds of stuff. Had. forgotten all about a little journal I started in 1978 or so about my UFO experiences. Here’s one about a dream I had:

The dream: [edited for clarity] Date: June 29, 1978

Night time, Los Angeles. I’m standing on the corner across from my mother’s house. (interesting I wrote “my mother’s house”  seems an odd way to phrase that. It’s the house I grew up in. Also, the house where my mother saw a UFO, and became very excited, calling us kids to come out and look at “the flying saucer.” No one believed her — except me. In fact, I told not to worry when the UFO was no longer visible. “Don’t worry mom, they’ll be back. They always come back.”)

I look up to the sky, and see very clearly, a large rectangle and another shape, thicker than the first. they are zooming through the air quickly and quietly. The UFOs break apart and disappear over a hill. (No hills however where I grew up.) Now I see flashes of light, and the sounds of machine guns. I know however that that’s not what is making the sound — it’s not the ‘guns’ it’s something else.

People on the street stop to look towards the sounds. I try to tell them what I saw: UFOs. Some believe me, some don’t. To be expected.

Suddenly, as we’re discussing what’s happening, a very large crescent of light comes floating through the sky, very fast. It’s heading towards the direction of the ‘machine gun’ sounds. The sounds stop. The UFOs come back in their original direction, towards me. They stop above me. Strange sounds like music are heard, but it’s difficult to tell if the sounds are from musical instruments (at least what we’re familiar with) or machines.

All this time, during this experience, I think it’s really happening. Then I remember I’m dreaming. Or am I? I must be. Of course I am. I’m confused. Within the dream I dream again. And here I tell Jim (my boyfriend at the time, my spouse now) all about the dream. He believes me. All of it. I tell him that the UFOs are real, “I just know they are.” No doubt. No argument. I tell him: “Well, I guess I really saw a UFO, it happens, and it just did to me.”

This time, in this dream, I wasn’t frightened, as I had been in the past in other dreams. I did feel awe, however, not in a religious sense (no space brother-sister Close Encounters stuff)  but simply in an “this is incredible” sense.

We were living in Eugene, Oregon at this time. This before where we moved a few miles away and I had my orange orb and missing time experience.  I did have a lot of weird UFO alien type dreams — was having them in Los Angeles when I met Jim, where we had missing time and a possible sighting — I find it interesting these dreams started before this. This suggests my experiences have been with me since childhood. Jim, who has had his own UFO related experiences, also since childhood; I have often commented how our experiences are not as random as we might think at times.

Circus and Haiku: A Positive Omen for Creativity?

Couldn’t sleep last night; got up, tried to write. During the day, I was going through old files, trying to clean up my work area. Lots of files on UFOs, the paranormal. A lot of academic papers I’d written when studying folklore at the University of Oregon. (One titled: Talking Deer: The Presence and Function of Animals in UFO Abduction Lore.)Made some notes, went over pages of stuff, but, nothing. Went back to bed.

Earlier in the day, I tweeted to a haiku group that a goal of mine is to “write a haiku a day.” I started doing this a couple of years ago. Not quite one a day; sometimes a few in one day, then nothing for awhile. I carry around a little black notebook just for my writing notes and poems, haiku and haibun.

 

the New Year’s goal

writing a haiku a day

not going well

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I subscribe to Modern Haiku. (MH published one of my haiku years ago, rejected a couple of months ago though. Try again . . . ) Aside from writing fiction; poetry and short fiction, I also write about the paranormal and supernatural, UFOs, and all kinds of weird.

I had the following dream last night, after I finally went to bed:

My new issue of Modern Haiku arrived, which surprises me, since I just received a copy and they publish a few times a year. Much too soon to receive a copy. But, I’m very happy to receive this. I also receive an unexpected zine from someone I don’t know. I wonder how they got my address, how they know about me. Both are fiction and poetry inspired publications.

In the Modern Haiku journal, there is an article by a woman about me! The title was Regan Lee: Circus. The author writes that, while not a believer, nor disbeliever, in things paranormal, she was inspired and moved by my writing. Somehow this writer got a hold of my article and she wrote a very positive review of my work.

Of course I’m excited and honored and show this off to everyone, including co-workers. I don’t care if they don’t care — though most of them are interested, and do know of my work in this area — I am so happy about this! But also a little confused. How did this woman come to know of my work? I hadn’t put this paper up anywhere.

The other zine, also from someone I didn’t know, gives me a positive mention as well. Again, I wonder how it is these people came across my work. I also wonder at the strangeness of a review on UFOs and the paranormal appearing in a haiku publication. And what does the circus have to do with any of this? (Circus: something I abhor.)

Creativity. Something extremely important to me, with me my whole life. I don’t put creativity in a box; it’s everywhere, in everything I do or think. Some may not think there is anything creative — blending into a spiritual place — about the realm of UFOs and related themes. I those areas as operating in a strong  and creative plane. Two worlds: outer, inner. Fiction, non-fiction. Mundane, magical. Not always opposites with nothing in common. Going back and forth between worlds.

Which is what I’ve been doing since childhood.  Expressing one realm to another. Maybe that’s the circus part; it can get very chaotic and silly and surreal very fast. I take this dream as a positive message to keep going, following my own crazy path.

Childhood Friend, UFO Memories

 

 

 

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I was very close with someone all through elementary school and high school. I’ll call her Fiona. We went through a lot together; her family was rich, lived in a gated community, father some kind of scientist at a  well known Big Science Private Sector institution, but I forget which one.  She was unhappy; something very off about both her parents. I even went to counseling with her and her family a few times. I regret that, due to my own issues (sex, drugs, rock and roll. Not being trite here, but sad to say, a trio of self-destructive behaviors)  when I was in my late teens, early twenties, our last couple of visits were not good ones due to my own self-indulgence.  But since then, this person is the only one from my childhood that appears when I think of my childhood experiences involving UFOs.

Sometimes Fiona shows up in my dreams involving UFOs.  Or she just appears during a memory of a UFO related memory. No one else, not my god-sister, (or my own sisters), or other friends, just Fiona. The question is, why?

I do not have any memory of Fiona and I seeing a UFO together, or experiencing anything of a paranormal nature.

We spent a lot of time on the roof of her ten (twelve?) story apartment tower. Late at night, sitting up there, watching the skies. Does the fact her father was a scientist play into this? Does any of this mean anything at all? Who knows of course. It could also be nothing at all, of no account, and Fiona’s appearance in my memories, dream realm or otherwise, means nothing.

Just another odd fragment within this giant, multi-faceted sphere of UFO experience.

I’m Not There: Alien Sketches

Three sketches I made last night while listening to Adam Gorightly and Greg Bishop on Coast to Coast last night. Good program; Gorightly and Bishop  discussed their new book,  A is for Adamski, with host George Knapp.

I wanted to make sure I didn’t fall asleep while listening to the show so I stayed up and sketched.  I didn’t think about what I’d draw, just let myself go where my subconscious took me.

The first sketch I call “My invisible dancing aliens.”  Years ago I started a painting based on this same drawing but never finished it. This is a sketch of the  little foyer in the house I grew up in in Los Angeles. There was a little window in the wall, as you see, a closet door on the left, and across from that, the front door. This is the house where I waited for my little alien friends to come and float me out the front door. I also have memories of dancing with these creatures. No faces on the beings — I don’t remember their faces, or much at all, except that they were. About my size, almost see through. Airy, fragile, friendly. Same ones who floated me out the door, into the large tree on the corner where I’d wait for … more. More beings, ships. . .

This is also the house where my mother saw a UFO hovering over the apartments across the street.

 

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This next sketch is of my bed. I’m not in it. The aliens (or beings, or entities, or angels, or elementals, whatever it is one wants to call them) are not looking at me in the bed — not anymore. I’m gone to what ever place they took me to. They are looking up, away from my bed, to the skies, and pointing. I’ve noticed that in this sketch, and another I did of my bedroom and the aliens, some of the aliens are tall, and clothed.

 

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The last drawing surprised me; it’s a version of my “patio alien” a creature I saw when I was about four. This was in another house in Los Angeles, on Corning Street, not too far from the house referred to above. I tried to capture the nasty nature of this thing but I don’t think it comes across. Although, I showed it to my husband who just shook his head (I didn’t tell him what it was.) I asked him if he was referring to my artwork or what; he said no, to “it.” “Not good,” he said. “That thing is not good.”

This thing was about four feet tall, all in silver and a hood or helmet, red glowing eyes — more like lights then eyeballs — and had a wand or gun type thing in its hand. When I saw it I first thought the thing was holding our hose, messing around with it for some reason. It saw me, was very very angry I was watching it, and pointed the “hose” at me. Turned out to me some kind of ray gun (as hokey as that sounds) at me. I was terrified.

 

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My Psychic Dream Adventures

Two dreams recently — one last night — where I am “called in” as a psychic in order to figure out what’s go

ing on. Don’t remember much about the first dream, just that it involved me as a physic and the tarot, but last night’s dream was a doozy.

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Small coastal town, somewhat of a tourist type place but somehow off the grid, with a population of about 300 during the off season, to a population of 3,000 during tourist season. The whole place has an Alpine look and feel, even though it’s right on the coast.

The mayor and a few town important ones come to get me. They don’t tell me anything about why they want me to investigate, or where I’m going. I get there; it’s very quiet. The off season.  I begin to feel energy, vibes, before I get out of the car. I say “This is bad. Very bad.”  Something to do with Nazis. Not from the past, but now.  I tell them they have to get rid of this, and NOW!

Then they take me to a tropical island type place in this town. Very different from the rest of the place. I tell the people this is haunted as well, still with all this bad Nazi energy, but also other, older things from the past.  Much of it good, actually, but neglected and forgotten.  Even though getting to the island is easy; really just have to wade a few yards across shallow water, no one’s bothered. Too ignorant and afraid.

I’m as surprised as anyone that I am physic and that they know about me, but I seem to know what I’m doing. I call upon the island entities to come and help.

 

 

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