Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Reality Check - "We ARE here."

“Well, I hate to admit it, but it is possible that there is (one) such a thing as telepathy and (two) that the CETI project's idea that we might communicate with extraterrestrial beings via telepathy is possibly a reasonable idea--if telepathy exists and if ETIs exist. Otherwise we are trying to communicate with someone who doesn't exist with a system which doesn't work.”
Philip K. Dick, The Dark-Haired Girl

I hear "them". They tell me they are directly above the house and I can come outside and see them. This is how it goes with that telepathic thing. Some messages are crystal clear. Others require a bit of sleuthing.

Being in a curious disposition and wondering what I might see above my house, I give in and opt to leave the housework and writing and enjoy some sun. It's midday. Our weather has been a quirky mix of cold, cool and almost warm. Today feels more like one would expect for an early Spring day.

Ready to begin the exercise, I park myself compliantly in a lawn chair on the patio and stare at the blue sky above me. Wisps of clouds drift overhead. I scan the space in all directions but nothing seems unusual enough to catch my eye. Two butterflies, beautiful, bright yellow, flutter around, above and across the rooftop. Darting in uneven circles, they mirror one another.

I telepathically broadcast my thoughts to "them"...  "Are you bugs? That's what you are because that is all I see out here. I see bugs who look like butterflies sailing in the air above me."

Agreeably, they answer, "Yes, we are bugs."

Okay, right. I was half joking and I don't quite buy my own comment so I keep looking.

Eventually, a plane flies above me, to the east. Interesting because it parallels the exact east-to-west direction I am stationed in my chair. Within a few more minutes, another plane traces that same path but from the opposite direction, headed west.

So I say to "them", "Okay, I get it: planes. You can make yourself appear to be planes. That's all I see above me now, planes."

Again "they" answer in that same agreeable fashion, "Yes, we are planes."

Right. Jokers. I mull it over. I was called outside to see bugs/butterflies and planes because that's all I have seen. "They" can be anything and I wouldn't know the difference. Is that what this is about? Maybe it is. I give up. It was interesting. It's always something new to learn in this little adventure. I go back inside and continue about my day. And there it ends.

No, it doesn't.

Later in the day, Andy is home and he calls out to me to meet him at the front door. He let the dogs outside and we haven't spoken more than a few words as he has just come home. He motions to me to stand where he has been standing, just outside the house at the front door. Then he tells me to look directly above us in the sky overhead.

Surprised at this interesting note of direction from him, I look up to see clear, blue sky. It's just before 8pm central time and the late day sun is still bright.

Alone in the space he has mapped out for me, I see it. Inquisitively, he prompts me, "Do you see?" Excitement sparkles in his eyes.

Wow. This is a complete surprise. Staring up at the sky, I offer my astonished reply. "I see a star," I say, as I look at him in stunned amazement. What has just happened?


"Good," he replies. "Sometimes I point stuff out and no one sees it."

I quickly run to the chair on the patio and look up from that vantage point. Sure enough, directly above me beams that fabulous, only star.

We both know it isn't a star. Wrong time of day and wrong position in the sky. (I checked again after dark to affirm there was nothing in that space.) Keeping tabs on that bright spec for about 20 minutes is easy: It doesn't move.

We rush around in a giddy frenzy, trying to get a picture and knowing we don't posses a camera capable of capturing an acceptable image to represent it. Frustration aside, we take pictures anyway and just let that be our proof. That's when I share with him my experience with "them" from earlier in the day. Curious, the timing.

The whole thing is amusing. This isn't our first encounter. Others have been just as perplexing and unpredictably synchronistic. I think we humans must be some sort of project for them.

Might it be that our growth and learning is key to a grand plan and they too are part of this equation? "They" - in my experience - are patient and persistent.

Today I learned I could believe anything I wanted of them and it would be true. Or, if I let the events play out, the rest of the story would eventually be filled in.

Then again, the rest of the story is still playing out - for me. On some plane everything is connected: Butterflies, Planes and Stars. I am the observer, the participant and the creator.

Or is this scenario a representation of our evolution? If we are butterflies and they are stars can we find a plane of connection that provides a middle ground? I have to keep working with this puzzle.

I do know the task before us is grand. They keep showing up to remind me to connect my dots as best I can. Beyond those dots is an even greater equation where nothing is what it seems.

We tend to think what we see is as it is represented. And yet, when I put the pieces of this puzzle together I remember: What we saw wasn't a star. Where does that leave the planes and the butterflies? And where does that leave me?

I already know. But I keep playing anyway .. at my role of seeking the answer.

Star ...or not.  The bright spot you can hardly see. (Center/1 inch down)
Welcome to my reality. There is so much here to explore and learn that one cannot possibly consolidate everything into one lifetime. So we come back - not because we have to. For some and many, we return because this adventure is worth doing and worth being present for.

Life is simply amazing in whatever form it happens. And our sphere of engagement is an incredible place to learn, love and play. Once you find your magic, endless doors open from there. What does it take to find that magic? Try curiosity and wonder.

Curious, I wonder about a star that isn't a star. ...And a nightlight that isn't a nightlight. 

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