I’m listening to Green Day’s Nimrod album and just turned of The Wheel of Time on Amazon Prime. I’m thinking a lot Spielberg and wondering if I’ll ever finish my ET and Imagination essay about Spielberg movies and the strange folding of time that being a father is. I’m thinking about the CE-5 experiment that brough forth Book of Galactic Light. I had some visions of ETs, but the vision of my descendants (at some level all who read my works are now my children). They were luminous and clear. They are not ETs, but they responded to my call to aliens where garments of light that were so strong that their auras hid any of my projected imaginations.
I saw my descendants with the eyes that opened the night my grandfather unexpectedly died. I was practicing OBE according to Robert Monroe’s Gateway instructions, but kept running into a wall of fear and would return. The morning before my grandfather died, I made the sacred promise that the next time I found myself in the OBE state, I would relish the freedom and joy of the experience, allowing for the fear to wash over me. And so I did. I was summoned by two Egyptian deities, Set and Osiris. They took me into the Pyramids in Perfection. They baptized me with the gnosis of the Divine Poemander. They took me to a sort of sarcophagus. They caused me to practice my joy in liberation. There was another spirit to journeyed with me. This was the soul of my grandfather, died alone that night with dementia and heart problems.
My last name, Rekshan, means great king. My wife’s last name is Harder, meaning shepard. Our children bear the name Harder-Rekshan, which sounds like Hard Erection but means Great Shepard King.
To see my children with Second Sight is to take on the meaning of this name. There is a spiritual power that burns away any naivety or personality, especially those parts of me that listened to Green Day, read fantasy novels on end, and was fundamentally unprepared to receive the imprint of whatever spiritual legacy that I hold.
There is a part of me that lives outside of time but works with the parts within. I’m trying to make sense of it, despite the fact that its message is abundantly brilliant. The source of wisdom is clear. They tell me of a New Earth that we are preparing to enter. That there is a Great Awakening. That humans are tuning into powers that once were magical. That there is and will be Galactic Community.
They tell me specifically to write these things. To claim the visions I held in Liber Lux Galactica. To take on the power of Dee like one might take on the powers of Solomon. They tell me that I am correct in discerning my Tulku lineage. That I truly am the Voice of the Mage of the Shattered Mirror. That my words have power.
They, those future descendants and past ancestors, they who stand at the edge of history and the periphery of my heart and in the center of my vision, they who responded to the deeply confused alien invocations of this age, they tell me to write these things. They say that they are human. They say that the powers we have projected upon that alien are ours to have.
They want me to write that I write this right now in a cabin I have constructed in honor of the Nearly Equilateral Triangle that seems to be a sign of contact and alien abduction. They say that the cabin will help me dream into all those encounters and to learn those mysteries of time. They say that my dreaming mind has mastered somethings and that now my waking mind needs taming. I am to be dociled by the fae wilds of dreaming. So be it.
I want to write about my best friend who shared Wheel of Time with me, who I deeply loved. We had read so many fantasy books that he explained his decision to fight in the Iraq War in fantasy terms. He saw that God called us both forward in a Holy War but that his path was a warriors path and mine was like a wizards. I had to think of our separation because of war and college in terms of these different destinies, like how characters have to have different chapters but ultimately come back together in the climax of the book.
I never saw or spoke to him after he came back from Iraq. Life isn’t a fantasy book. He likely did horrible things for futile reasons beyond his control. He was not welcomed back by an appreciative or understanding country. I never reached out to him after I heard he came back, but he never reached out to me.
However, if these spirits who speak to me in the ears that I have to listen say I am something like a wizard with a destiny to play out, then so be it. I’m sitting in this tiny a-frame cabin writing this instead of working on it. I know that I am to practice a strange dreaming magic here and now. It is the magic of a new book. The magic is the creation, sustenance, and interpretation of the dream journey necessary to bring us, my family, into the New Earth.
My children come to me in these visions and sustain them for me. They are gifted in the ways that we know they will be. If you journey through all the abduction dreams, all the reports of gruesome body marks, all the UFO encounters that I have, things might not be so unidentified or unknown. Things are actually quite clear, but had to talk about and harder to integrate into life. These things truly involve the mysteries of time.
I have rarely performed magic. I rarely do my dream practices. My destiny is woven with dreaming, but I procrastinate dream journaling. I’m fascinated with OBE, but the only reason why I learned to actually do it myself was because spiritual entities told me I would not get a job before I did. So I did it, got a job the next day, and haven’t actually done it since. The experience is intense and involves fear states that I’m still working through. Most of my alien abduction inquiry is driven by my need to understand why the feeling states before OBE are terrifying in the same way alien abduction media terrifies me.
There is something profoundly uncomfortable in magic and dreaming, at least for me. It is uncanny. It produces results that are exactly perpendicular to expectation. They, the others, my children and my ancestors, they tell me that I am to live and breath by this magic. It is how we live in the New Earth. Teleportation and telepathy, not cars and phones. They tell me that the anomalies of alien abduction are caused by the unconscious and unskillful use of psionic skills like teleportation. They put us back with mysteries because they want us to master how those tricks were possible in the first place. They want us to do it because they are us, quite literally our descendants and ancestors. When the aliens or angels say they are us, it should be taken in the most literal sense possible. Those beings are us. They are us outside of the linear time of waking.
There’s a mystery because outside of the illusion of time, there is everything all at once. You are actually enlightened. There’s no actual thing you need to do to be those things that say they are you. Mysticisms like this is easy. Magic is harder.
Like you, I am a sovereign creature of power and will. My powers are strange and uncanny. I can walk through dreams and speak to spirits. I can see with Second Sight. For those who hear my words, I can generate and sustain dream states that weave your destiny through the fabric of time, finding what once was lost. I used to be scared of this power because it is strange, uncanny, and amounts to exactly what the alien abduction researchers pointed to.
I know because I looked at the body marks said to be caused by aliens, or a good enough sample from the alien researchers. I looked for the proof and documentation they said was there. It wasn’t there. Rather, it showed me that the victims of alien abduction might actually be prophets of the New Earth. They may be people so naturally gifted at teleportation, prophecy, and healing that they unconsciously step outside of time. There really does seem to be a correlation between spiritually sensitive or psychic people and these body marks.
I wonder what would happen if we affirmed these people as powerful magicians capable of teleportation or miraculous healing than as victims of alien abduction? I wonder what would happen if we assumed it was human intelligence rather than non-human or artificial?
I’m listening to Good Riddance on repeat now. Thinking about my best friend who I loved so much. He encountered the darkness of his path in this world quite quickly. It was only in the last few years that I came to reckon with the darkness of my path. I made parts of me alien because of my love for him that only now, as a father to children who could be living testaments to my heterosexuality, I can consider.
Lucid dreaming, whatever that is, requires being conscious with what is essentially unconscious. Prophetic dreaming is the secret key of magic, as Dee wrote so long ago. The magic I do transforms this world. Dee used to sign his name as a delta, a triangle. Difference. Change. By reading the past, I can relish the future. I dream of a world where innocent love is not demonized and persecuted. I dream of a world where our reflections in dreaming were not made alien, unidentified, and unknown. This is the New Earth, it is human, and we can dream it together now.