Well, not really channeling, that’s not fair. But after watching this 2013 YouTube video interview with UFO researcher Richard Haines (thanks to Erica Lukes for alerting me to this) I immediately got out my oil pastels and did this in about five minutes. What’s interesting to me is that I didn’t draw orange orbs, but these figures. As my dear one commented, “They look like they’re from another dimension, not quite here.” That’s the feeling I had when drawing these — that these orange beings were a form of energy emanating from the orb.
Subconscious global virus fears have seeped in.
I had a dream that I thought was real, then realized at some point I was dreaming. Until, in the dream, I was explaining the dream to my husband — complete with a physical demonstration — thinking that that was real, until, I realized I was still dreaming. Layers upon layers.
I hear sounds of animals (I assume they are animals, cats maybe, raccoons) fighting in the yard next door. Abruptly, the sounds stop, and I hear just one sound: the crunching of leaves and gravel as a seven-foot, bi-pedal creature walks into our backyard.
I don’t know how I know the creature is seven feet tall, but I do. The nature of dreams. This creature is somewhat reptilian-is. Highly intelligent, and nasty. This thing claws at our bedroom window,trying to get in. I’m terrified. Try to wake up my husband but he’s out. All this time, I think this is really happening. Not a dream.
I hear the creature walking around to our other bedroom window. I get out of bed, pound the walls with my fist and shout “GO AWAY!!! GO AWAY!!! WE DO NOT WANT YOU HERE!!!”
There’s a moment where I am frightened because I know. — I can see it in my mind — that it’s thinking. Deciding whether to burst in or leave.
Later, I am explaining this dream to my husband. I show h
im how the creature walked, using my fingers to walk across the table. (As if he doesn’t know a bi-pedal creature would walk.) I think: thank god that
dreamnightmare is over.
Then I realize I’m still dreaming.
Like most of us, I assume, the coronavirus has shifted things within in a deep way. I’m confused, operating in a state of surreal acceptance. I want to be safe and responsible but am not sure what to do at times. I know what not to do – – I’m not an idiot. Am I scared? Yes, sometimes. I don’t want to feed into it. I’m not hoarding toilet paper for instance.
So the fears and anxiety, the uncertainty, is always there.
And I know I am setting myself up for the wrath of logical intelligent fellow saucer heads, Forteans and the like to be flung at me but I can’t help there is more behind this. Much more, including conspiracy and manipulations and even the interaction with an other.
But none of that really matters. Because this is here, it’s real, and it’s affecting all of us at all levels of our existence. Children at home, unsupervised, people out of work wondering how they’re going to pay their bills, . . . the fallout is immense.
My little dream, exposing layers of reality (I’m dreaming, I’m awake, it’s real, oh, I’m still dreaming) presenting a Reptilian Alien monster as an unwelcome and nasty intruder. It did go away however when I confronted it. So maybe this dream was a reminder that I am responsible for myself and to calm down. Not to be cavalier about things, but, find that balance between acceptance of this new reality while remaining sane.
Two nights in a row. Angel (I call it/him an angel for ease, but spirit guide, dream guide, anyway, a very strong and recurrent dream presence) that occasionally appears in my dream. He often appears as tall; around six feet, six inches. Wearing a white suit or clothing. On the thin side. Nothing sexual at all, but when he’s near, I feel fantastic.
In the following two dreams, this angel guide was near invisible. His presence was felt, and he was there, but couldn’t quite see him. And he was giant. Twenty feel tall, and above us.
The first dream was almost comical; it was as if I was in a Nick Cage conspiracy movie. My guide was showing me — taking me — to Egypt. Telling me about the history, the pre-history, including Egyptian magick. The strong message as that this is important and I better learn it. The dream concluded with summations on how the United States was created based on this ancient Egyptian history, and, most importantly I was told, that the current Egypt and citizens are not the “real” ones. I don’t know what that means, it was just part of the dream.
The next night, another dream with David the angel travel guide. I’m with a small group of people. We’re taken to sites on the earth that exist, but, only a few humans throughout history have seen these places, and very few know these places exist. We’re shown an astounding lake, so beautiful! Amazing color, such clear blues and greens
The water is transparent and I see a thick, tall tree trunk. As I look I realize it’s a totem pole. But part of the pole — all underwater — is just plain, not painted. The trunk, orpole, extends beyond the surface of the water and goes up into the sky about a hundred feet. It’s painted again, totem pole. I have never imagined a totem pole to be so huge.
Then these creatures appear, waddling across the shore. We’re told they are called ‘Qaubies.’ They look like tater tots! Very large tater tots. About the size of two bed pillows sewn together. They barely have faces; just the impression of a nose, eyes, mouth. They are not animals, certainly not human, but not aliens either. They are not dangerous, if anything, benevolent. Once again, our guide tells us that this is very important. What we’ve seen, what we’ve learned.
We’ve also taken to see animals that are hybrids but instead of a horror like a Dr. Moreau, these animals are happy, gentle, they are what they are they are not the creations of a sick scientist, they are their own creatures.
Husband writing his novel, which includes when we first met. Discussions follow. After forty plus years of marriage, memories. . .
Synchronicity, or maybe just plain old nostalgia, but this weekend is our forty-third anniversary.
And I’m writing, on my own stuff, paranormal and not.
So we’re listening to old Donovan (do not underestimate him) on vinyl, of course, and things came to my mind. Like the following poem:
He was there
before we knew each other
I have a memory , some
might call it a screen memory, or
when we met, we sat in his Fiat
talking poetry, dreams, UFOs
was I there?
I remember him, Donovan
Hollywood Bowl, on a carpet
was I there?
Later, dreams, missing time
Where were we?
Was I there?
Back in 2011, when I was writing for Tim Binnall’s site, I wrote the following:
Donovan in Concert at the Hollywood Bowl … Maybe
|Memory and UFOs. Missing time. Conscious recall of astounding events. These memories affect the UFO witness, contactee and abductee in profound ways. The memories are vivid, full of emotional and spiritual import that brings life long changes to the experiencer.
Even missing time – which is no memory – is a sort of memory. You know you don’t remember; you remember that something strange happened before, and something strange followed, but what happened in-between? During that in-between state, something happened, something involving you. The memory of those moments exist, somewhere, outside yourself. Forever frustrating, until recalled. But at that point, can we trust the process that brought us to that moment of recollection? Do we just think we remember? How much of those memories are real? All, some, none?
I have a few memories that don’t involve UFOs or really, anything particularity high strangeness or paranormal and yet… there’s a nagging feeling with this category of memory that UFOs were on the edges of these events. Events that I can’t fully recall. They share some similarities with missing time.
For years I’ve had a vague memory of attending a Donovan concert at the Hollywood Bowl in 1969. I have a vivid memory of seeing him on stage. I remember standing up on a little rise, the night air around me, seeing him and hearing him. I don’t recall being with anyone, if I was, I don’t remember who I was with. And yet, I don’t remember anything else at all. Not going to the concert, who I went with, anything about the concert itself, or anything afterwards. I don’t know how I got there. I don’t remember anything. I’m not sure I was there. But I think I might have been.
Curious to know if Donovan ever did play the Hollywood Bowl in 1969, I found proof that he did on the delightful The Go-Go’s Notebook blog. He did play there in 1969. No way to prove if I had been there, but at least we know he was.
There’s no one I could ask about this; my father, who I was living with at the time, has since passed away. He’d be the only one who might know. I was pretty left on my own back then, so adults or others who might know if I had gone wouldn’t necessarily know. It wouldn’t have been unusual for me to attend a concert at the Hollywood Bowl, where I’d seen may concerts, or other places.
It bothers me of course, not knowing if something really happened or not. At least in the context of UFOs, there’s a “Well, that explains it” context. Missing time, not being able to remember, while seeing a UFO, all adds up to the strange. It’s strange to begin with.
I don’t have any memories of UFO experiences when I was a teenager, except for one other memory related event. A few years ago I was meditating, and looking at a landscape I had painted of Santa Cruz. My mind wandered to a night in Santa Cruz by a river. My father and some family members were camping; in that meditative state I could vidily remember the smell of the water as well as the sounds, the cold air…and in the painting/memory, a stationary “star” began to move, zooming in towards us. I have a lucid moment, saying to myself “That didn’t happen when we were there!” I heard a voice outside of myself, speak to me inside my head that I “knew it was a UFO and I had better stop playing games” with myself about the reality of that memory. Then I was jolted back to the reality of my bedroom, the painting, and current time.
Was this memory of attending a Donovan concert related to this Santa Cruz event? Cover memories and games with time, and, location? As weird as this hazy memory realm is, it isn’t unheard of or unusual with UFO witnesses. Whitley Streiber is among witnesses who’ve shared their experiences of almost dreamlike memories that were not dreams, yet… some shadowy thing has happened to distance the witness from the event. Why?
Jim (my spouse of these many decades) and I have had many paranormal and UFO experiences; separate, in our childhoods, before we knew each other, as well as during our relationship. One example: the orange orb sighting, with missing time.
Haiku, senryu, micro poems. A couple I think I’ve posted here before — most are new.
the air is full
a dark blue realm
some say missing time
is the mental state unhinged
and some know better
she didn’t believe
such things could be happening
brilliant orange orbs
enchanted ,though uneasy
we watch the sliver sphere
shooting beams of light
above the pasture
of missing time
poems by regan lee
Watching Beyond the Unknown, and wonder why, once again, The Devil major arcana tarot card is used to denote
evil eeeeeville. Haunted doll, the cause of negative and fatal energies, causes death, ends its days locked up in a cabinet in the Warren’s Occult Museum. For some reason, there is the Devil card tacked up on the cabinet that holds this cursed doll.
I have no doubt an object can hold negative energy; be haunted and cause all kinds of havoc. Misunderstanding and misinterpreting the use and meaning of the tarot, including The Devil card, is a lazy trope used in our culture.
I Finally Saw Sasquatch!!!!!!!!!
I did! We did! Jim and I both. Muscular, about seven feet tall, the crescent-cone shaped head. Unbelievable; to use an overused word, awesome. I mean awe inspiring, magical, powerful, incredible. A gift.
Now here’s the thing. I saw the Sasquatch in a dream. DO NOT GO AWAY! Please stay and read on.
The dream was so real. Vivid, among the most vivid dreams I’ve had. A lucid dream, a dream that I felt, could sense odors and aromas, felt the wood on the door, the cold of the linoleum floor. Never thought for a moment it wasn’t real.
Jim and I are in house that’s surrounded by woods. I look through a little window in the door, and see a bear cub in a tree. I say to Jim “The mother must be near by,” and then I see the mother bear. I’m just about to look away when I see the Bigfoot. I am sure it’s a Bigfoot, but . . . I mean, could it be? Yes, it is! The Sasquatch comes out from behind
the trees, the bears move off. I whisper excitedly to Jim to come look. We see the Sasquatch, and it is just so damn obvious that this is real. This is not a person in a suit. This is not a fake, a hoax, a bear. It is only, simply, really, a Sasquatch. He is human like, but not human. He is beyond a mere “dumb” animal or “creature.” He is . . . akin to us, but, more.
The Sasquatch — and I get the impression it’s a male, even though I don’t see anything obvious to let me know that — turns and looks right at me. He moves right up to the door and presses his face to the window. I can’t move, I am amazed, transfixed. I am not scared, but I am careful. Respectful. His eyes! It’s the eyes in that incredible face that are powerful. Deep and knowing. Surpassing human. Intelligence, seeing.
The Sasquatch calls me by name. Telepathically. We are communicating clearly — no words, but through mind. He urges me to keep writing about him, the Sasquatch, and, about UFOs. “Do not stop, or give it up,” he tells me. “Keep writing, we need you.” And then: “We are connected to UFOs, to space. We do exist on another dimension.”
I just can’t believe I have been given this gift. This beautiful gift. This Sasquatch tells me people need to know about it all; dimensions and UFOs and Sasquatch . . .
A huge painting then fills my minds eye: a large white sphere and a half moon-like shape behind it in a black background. While this half moon shape has craters and looks very much like our moon, it isn’t our moon. The white planet, and the moon like satelite planet have something to do with the Bigfoot’s message.
The intelligence of this being is vast. Serious business. Abilities beyond ours. Knowledge beyond ours. But also, humor.
He leaves, but then half turns and I get a vibe of humor from him. I feel something small and hard fall in my lap, and I think I hear him make a sound like a chuckle as he walks away.
I look down in my lap — because I’ve long ago just plopped down onto the floor in sheer dumb amazement — and see a little plastic Bigfoot charm with a hook to put on a cord or chain. The message was clear: wear this silly little image to remind yourself what you’ve just experienced, to tell others, to keep writing, and to know that Sasquatch is real.
I can’t believe I saw Sasquatch! I am full of joy and … I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. I have to write about this, now. Then I think no, I have to tell others I know and talk with them about this. I think of who I can contact: Tim Binnall, Tim Beckley, Jeremy Vaeni, Lon Strickler. Who would believe me the most? Does it matter if they believe me, as long as they just give me the time to talk about it?
I have to get the news out. But then I feel dejected; who is going to believe me? I’ve seen UFOs, more than once. Experienced hauntings, psychic events, visitations, missing time, and now, Bigfoot? Really? What am I, some kind of High Strangeness Nut-Magnet?
I remember what the Sasquatch told me. Get it out there. So that’s what I decide to do.
I realized writing this that, while the importance of writing about this was the message from the the Sasquatch, and the information that there is a UFO/outer space connection, the Sasquatch didn’t tell me how, or what. No details. That’s for us to discover.
There is more to this dream. Before seeing the Sasquatch, there is flooding everywhere. Jim and I are trying to stay ahead of the water that is coming and we hitch a ride with a man and his family, who takes us to his home; the home where we saw the Sasquatch. We’re waiting for a safe moment to leave again. It’s here, while we’re waiting, that I look out the window in the door and see, first the bears, then the Bigfoot.
I’ve also had other dreams connected to water and Bigfoot, and bears appearing as a sort of psychopomp for the Sasquatch event.
Bigfoot researcher Lisa Shiel wrote, about a water-Bigfoot connection:
Bigfoot have exhibited some very un-apelike behavior, much of it concerning water. Apes don’t swim. But Bigfoot have been seen swimming in lakes and rivers. They wade out into rivers to steal fishermen’s nets full of fish. They like the water. UFOs have been seen going into or coming out of water. Some witnesses have watched UFOs suck the water out of lakes. They like the water too. – Lisa Shiel
Related links from my Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch blog:
I think they do. Some scientists think so too. I write a lot about dreams here at the Orange Orb, as readers know. Combine my intrigue with dreams and my love of octopi, and I’m in a very nerdy place on the astral plane.
“If she is dreaming, this is a dramatic moment,” Scheel said. “You could almost narrate the body changes and narrate the dream. She sees a crab and her color starts to change a little bit, then she turns all dark, octopuses will do that when they leave the bottom [of the ocean.] This is a camoflage, like she’s just subdued a crab and she’s just going to sit there and eat it, and she doesn’t want anyone to notice her.”
This came from left field. The only trigger I can think of is that earlier yesterday I cleared off my altar; kept it simple this time with a plant, Buddha lamp, and one of my tarot decks (Deviant Moon.)
There’s a woman who is quite the pagan leader here, locally. Everyone in the pagan-witchy community knows her, or of her. Some respect her quite a bit, others, like myself, thinks she’s, well, I don’ think much. Used to go to some of her meetings. Feh.
So I dreamt last night, I attend a workshop she’s giving. About a hundred people in attendance. A small, bowl shaped auditorium. She’s in the middle, giving a talk on the tarot. Something about the court cards, specifically, the King and Queen. (the suite didn’t matter, any of the Kings and Queens.)
I ask a question. My intentions are absolutely sincere; all I want to know is… I don’t remember the question now, but in the dream, it had something to do with how to interpret the meaning of the court cards.
For whatever reason, and to my confusion, the Bitchy Witch Tarot Queen becomes extremely rude. Answers my question with sarcasm, meanness, and then, tells me to get out! Yells at me to leave, and, to never, every, come back. She will, she tells me, get a court order (heh) or whatever it takes, to ensure that I never come near her, or anything she’s involved in.
Her reaction really disturbs me. What is wrong with this person?! The a voice tells me to write a letter, or a blog post, about her. Her rudeness, the bizarre thing her and her co-bitch-witch did to me over my volunteering, etc. And so I write this. And as I’m doing so, the voice keeps reminding me of other episodes. Then I wake up. Or so I think; I realize, after reading the letter, that I’m still asleep.