It has now been 66 years since Kenneth Arnold’s 1947 UFO sightings and the Roswell Incident, and we’re still waiting. Or are we? I’m not. I’m engaged with the visitors and I have been since 1985. And I’m not alone. More people are discovering that it’s possible to engage with them right now, and to take it deep. But most of us are waiting–for ‘disclosure,’ for ‘the landing,’ for some defining moment that most likely will never come.
In early January of 1986, I was in agony. I’d been beaten up on December 26, 1985, and I was just in the process of coming to grips with the fact that something physical had happened to me. (This was when I was writing the short story Pain, which is a chronicle of my anguish and agony at that time.)
In February of 1985, I made a crucial decision. Instead of remaining passive and waiting to see if anything would happen, I left my house in the night, and walked out into the woods, attempting to get to the place where my encounter had taken place. On that first night, I could barely manage to walk to the edge of our yard, let alone enter the woods. It was like walking up to a panther or a maniac with a gun. Or worse, walking into the unknown.
But I did not stop. Again and again, I went out there and I tried. Finally, by early April, I was managing to sit and meditate in the spot where the event had happened. If I had not taken action the way I did, I’d still be sitting and waiting instead of living in the state of engagement that has filled my life with such wonder for the past 28 years. (And fear, and danger, yes, but when you sign on to walk into the dark, you are going to get those things, too.)
Later, in a conversation with Col. Phil Corso, he related that one of the visitors had said that what was on offer for us was ‘a new world if you can take it.’ This means two things: if we can take action on our own behalf and go out there and get what we can of what is on offer; and if we can bear the results.
I am far from being the only person who has taken action. Almost anything you do, from something as simple as shining a light into the sky to focused meditation, can bring a response. But even meditation has to be done with care. It is not a matter of sitting and passively waiting for something to happen, it is a matter of surrendering yourself to the unknown naked, without protection, without expectations, but at the same time being actively engaged in the waiting. It is an active state but a passive stance, this type of meditation.
I know from reading emails from members of our meditation group, that many people are becoming engaged. Even as the US government continues to lie to the public while sending up planes in secret, more and more people are finding ways to come into accord with the complex, energetic and extremely strange presence that is offering itself to us.
In 2013, I am expecting that more people are going to figure this out, and start bringing themselves forward to the visitors. As that happens though, more and more of us will be asking the question: what ARE they? What am I opening myself to, anyway?
Living with that question–neither answering it with an explanation that must inevitably be inadequate, nor pretending it isn’t there–is the key to stepping out of the trap of passivity. The next obstacle, though, is that when we make efforts, we expect results, and they are often slow in coming. But not always. To this day, I am on a marvelous journey with the visitors. It is both inner and outer, and I never know for sure the level on which any encounter is unfolding. Is it happening right in the moment, is it a memory I have previously repressed, or is it my imagination? The question is not answerable and I don’t try to answer it. I just go on down the road, working and working on my side of the relationship, trying to find directions that will help me and interest them, usually waiting without result, but sometimes gaining a few seconds or minutes of exposure to their breathtaking mastery.
It isn’t easy, though. I don’t feel some sort of sentimental joy when there is interaction. What I feel is naked and helpless and afraid, but also enlightened.
The last time this happened to me was during the worst of my recent illness, when I was flat on my back and in agony. Suddenly, I had an encounter. It was not like the ones I was having in the eighties and nineties, but more like those I’ve been reporting in recent years, very ambiguous and yet also grounded in the physical. Suddenly the room, and my mind, were full of visitors, a racing mob who seemed to be running down a path that went through this reality but belonged to another one.
A moment later, I found myself back in my child’s body, which was blessedly without pain. I was lying on the ground, gazing up at the night sky. But it was not our sky. High in the west, there were three bright stars in a north-south line. There were no recognizable constellations. I felt incredible, almost incapacitating loneliness. Then there was a sense of onrushing presence, as if somebody dangerous was racing toward me through the night. I reacted in an unexpected manner. Instead of feeling fear, I felt embarrassment. But they came anyway, surrounding me in what now felt like a vulnerable nakedness.
I tried to sit up, but when I did, I felt a fiery stab of pain in my back, and I was then in my adult body and bed again, the vision gone. I understood it though, almost at once. It had been a communication on two levels. First, I had been given the gift of something I have longed to see since I was a child–the night sky from the surface of another world. Second, I had been taught a lesson. When they drew nearer to me, I felt shame. I felt inadequate and unprepared.
Then I thought of our official reaction: sending up jets. In effect, shaking our spears at them. And why? Not because we fear the unknown, but for a deeper reason. We are ashamed of our poverty, and that’s what makes us hang back and remain passive and not take real action on our own behalf.
I’m through being ashamed. I’m on my way and nothing is going to stop me. Poor I may be, but I am able to walk. There is a new world available.
Come with me in 2013. Let’s take the darned thing!