Labels. We all use them, in every situation and context. Labels help us. They also manipulate us. We need something to hang onto, something to help us make sense of things. A handy quick label keeps us moving. We assume we all know, all agree, what we’re talking about when we use labels. Of course, most of the time that’s not true. We don’t agree, we aren’t sure, and we just want to get to it. Not get bogged down with defining our labels or explaining ourselves.
When it comes to UFOs, well, the word itself is a label abused. Both debunkers and believers (more labels!) assume UFO means aliens from outer space. (My theory is “they started it” meaning the skepti-bunkers, who insist that UFO of course “really” means ET, and therefore, let the scoffing and mocking begin.)
What labels to use when talking about people who’ve interacted with UFOs and or entities? Experiencer is a big one. Abductee, contactee, … the edges blur with those two, though of course those words help us identify witnesses who have been contacted, or taken, by entities. (And I do recognize that I use entity more than alien, certainly more than ET, because, well, we don’t know they’re literal ETs.) I will not ever tell someone who’s gone through encounters what to do; never suggest they take a specific approach or use only certain terminology. That’s up to them. For myself, I think simply using the word witness is enough. Yes, I’ve experienced things as well, but for me, that word in this context seems clinical. The use of the word experience removes a complicated mass of emotions and responses, it sets the self apart from the crazy mysterious scary weird exhilarating thing that happened.
It is up to each one of us who have witnessed these things to use whatever terms makes sense to us at the time. And the researchers who work with witnesses need to respect that, using their own language as they see fit, but allowing the witness her or his voice as well.
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.
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.
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.
It’s very difficult to mine any information from this interview. Regan was good at expressing her own bafflement and confusion with her experiences, but not at describing them with enough detail that we could either sincerely share her bafflement or perhaps provide some clarity. She says she’s trying to understand them better, and I believe her, but I also sense an unwillingness to open her experiences up fully to outside commentary. One thing that was obvious is that she’s concluded far more about her experiences than she expresses outright, and perhaps she fears that opening up her experiences to outside comment will challenge those conclusions and throw her back into a worse confusion, or confirm the worst of them which she is not ready to hear, but that looks to me to be rooted in a lack of self-confidence and a disbelief that anyone could really offer her anything truly beneficial.
I apologize to Regan for being so critical, and perhaps I’ve got it all wrong, I share my thoughts freely and whether she considers them or throws them into the bin I’ll take no offense.Read the original source: http://www.unknowncountry.com/experience/regan-lee-orange-orb#ixzz5YOwqd2y0
(cross posted on my Orange Orb Tarot blog)
Had an interesting dream the other night, involving a family of another country and culture (true; I really know these people but not listing those details here) but, in this dream, involving music, dance and drumming, among other things, the following:
I’m in the room with this family, and lots of other people as well. Up on a little platform, is a long table with a dark haired (long dark hair) woman (around 40? maybe 50) who is reading from a deck. I assume it’s a tarot deck, but can’t get close enough to see. The backs of the cards are beautiful; greens and blues, mermaids.
I can’t hear the woman too well; can’t tell if it’s a traditional tarot deck or an oracle deck. I notice the woman doesn’t have any clients; she just starts reading out loud to no one. Is she giving the whole room a reading? Reading to someone invisible? I still can’t see the deck up close. I want to, because it’s so beautiful, from the backs. I’m all about mermaids! But I’m confused as to the nature of the reading. Also, I realize I don’t much like her. I don’t like her style; she seems almost rude, and very loud. Not my approach.
Yet after awhile, I realize what she’s saying is more important than the way she’s saying it. And, with a sudden awareness, I just know that she’s more than human, if she’s really human at all. She’s an archangel! She’s a mermaid archangel.
When I understand this, I feel better. I’m awed, actually. And I realize her reading to the room is for anyone out here who cares to listen. It makes sense now. It’s not important that I don’t dig her style; it’s not about that.
I want this deck!
In 2011, I wrote the following piece for my Trickster’s Realm column at Tim Binnall’s site (Binnall of America.) Donovan in Concert at the Hollywood Bowl . . . Maybe.
The other day — I don’t remember what it was that had me bring it up — but I mentioned this column to my spouse, Jim. Jim told me he didn’t know about the article: “You never mentioned that,” he said. (We usually read each other our stuff.) I was surprised, but anyway, he read the item. Afterwards he said: “That is very strange.” Pause. “Weirder still, I was at that concert.”
Married over forty years, and I never knew that!
Another weird synchronicity, possibly, remotely, related to UFO type events. Jim and I had discovered years ago that we share many anomalous events, going back to childhood. All of them connected, in some way, to UFOs.