another street light event

During the time together in the Four Corners area in May, Natascha and I had an extremely intense conversation at a restaurant. We were both left kind of confused and overwhelmed by the magnitude of what we had talked about. After leaving the restaurant we were walking back to our Motel thru the quiet streets of Moab at night.

I remember saying something like: "Oh God, this is SO weird. Are we on the right path with all of this?"

And - right at that exact instant - the street light above us blinked off.

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sweat lodge and a curious scratch

Sketch book image of the very humble sweat lodge in Arizona. A simple structure made from arching re-bar, old blankets and canvas. In the foreground is a fire pit with collection of VERY hot rocks. Double click on the image for a hi-rez view.

part ONE of this story HERE

After the intensely scary events in the tent (story posted below) in Delores Colorado, Natascha and I were basically stuck in the four corners area with my Subaru in the shop. We had a rent-a-car and a few days of time. We went to the groovy coffee shop in Cortez and we used skype to contact Miriam Delicado and we asked her what we should do. She told us we needed to do a sweat lodge with a Navajo Shaman named Howard. So we drove to south west to Canyon De Chelly in Arizona.

Canyon De Chelly is on of the most beautiful and magical places on earth, and it’s all on Navajo land, so to enter into the bottom of the canyon requires a guide. We spent the day with wet feet in the cold muddy river with a wonderful guide named Francine. Afterwards we went to the Spider Rock Campground, a ramshackle establishment run by Howard. We were all set up to have the sweat the next morning, along with a few other folk at the campground.

Natascha, Howard and me (with a cat) early in the morning at the Canyon De Chelly Spider Rock campground.

I was curiously unaware of what I was getting myself into, it felt like I was proceeding without intention. It was more like I was being pulled toward the sweat lodge, rather than actively seeking it.

At some point that day I took my shirt off and I found a curious scratch that ran roughly from above my belly button up toward my left shoulder. (see sketch to the left) I had been in the tent in Delores Colorado that morning, and this would have been the first time I took my shirt off since the scary events the previous night.

Scratch isn’t quite the right term, if you looked at it closely it was actually some sort of rash. It wasn’t an abrasion, instead it was a bumpy length of tiny blisters in a long straight line. These were long rows of little bubbles of yellowish fluid right at the surface of my skin, each little blister was smaller than a grain of rice. It was weird, and I've never seen anything like it (on me or anyone else).

I’m color blind, and even I could see the thin red line. It looked like some allergic reaction, like someone took a pen full of poison ivy ink and drew a straight line on my chest.

It didn’t itch or feel bad, but it was certainly curious. It healed up slowly and cleanly over the next few weeks.

Did this red line happen the previous night in the tent in Delores? Was is associated with those terrifying memories? At the time both Natascha and I asked the same thing, and we we quick to dismiss those thoughts. It might have come from some desert cactus, but I did not do anything the previous few days with my shirt off. I have no memory of getting scratched by any plant, like a poison oak (a common tree in that area).

Now, over a month later I’m left questioning how I got that weird scratch and I don’t have an answer. Could it have happened that creepy night in Delores? Why didn’t I think to take a photo?

When I entered the lodge I wore a bathing suit, and my bare chest displayed that long red scratch. There were eight of us in the dark cramped shelter, with a pit in the center for the very hot rocks.

Howard lead a really impressive ceremony. It was mystical and playful all at the same time. I felt rooted in my own world, and simultaneously connected with something beautiful and ancient. The overriding theme was to surrender to the heat.

There were four separate sessions within the dark little lodge, each one getting progressively hotter. The final session was berserkly hot, and everyone inside was forced to lie down so as to breathe the cooler air near the dirt floor.

The whole thing lasted a few hours, and when it was over everyone was fatigued and quiet. I spent the rest of that very pleasant day drinking water and napping. Natascha took a long walk with Howard’s little dog.

The next day Natascha and I said good-bye to Howard in the morning, and slept in Valley of the Gods (in Utah) that night. And that - is another interesting story.

Myself and Natascha smiling above the Gooseneck Canyons in the Colorado River in the Four Corners area of southern Utah.

irrational fear inside our tent

Dream image inside a tent, where I felt myself floating up above my pad with a glowing flat mandala circle off to the side.

I just returned home after spending two beautiful weeks in the four corners area. A close friend, Natascha, flew in from Germany specifically to explore and camp in the canyons and sandstone of this amazing part of the West.

During our trip we had a collection of curious happenings, and this posting is one of the more dramatic experiences. Natascha is here with me as I write this, and she’s been adding details she remembers as we try and make this written work as accurate as we can.

We were on our way north back to Idaho when we noted some issues with the brakes on my car. We went into a small mechanic shop in Cortez Colorado and they pretty much said we would die if we drove on the broken brakes. So, we were stuck down in the four corners area for five more days waiting on parts. We rented a cheap car and made the best of it.

Late in the afternoon of Thursday May 13th, Natascha and I asked the very nice coffee shop girl (wearing a very groovy hippy dress) in Cortez if she knew of any spots to camp near town. She said there was open camping on the BLM land outside of the town of Dolores, just a few miles up the road.

We followed her directions and ended up in a secluded area of tall trees a short ways off the forest service road. We found a secluded spot with an old fire ring and some broken beer bottles. Perfect for our one-night camping needs.

We set up our tent and headed back into the town of Dolores and ate pizza at a cute local brewery. Our table was situated right next to the window and it looked out on the very quiet corner of a VERY tiny town.

During dinner, Natascha was quite emotional. As I write this she explained that she was very much in crisis, she was feeling sad and didn’t quite know where these emotions came from.

After pizza we went back to the camp site and climbed in our small tent. It seems like we quickly went to sleep. This is where things get strange.

I was suddenly jolted awake because Natascha had screamed. It was just a short shriek of fear. My instantaneous response was to bolt upright and scream with an intensity that would be hard to describe. I was screaming in fear, sure enough, but it was also a primal outburst of defense.

I've slept in the mountains for decades, and I've dealt with some scary stuff in the dark. Bears in camp, moose tangled up in my tarp strings, rats crawling across my face - but I have NEVER been frightened in a way that would come close to those moments in that tent.

I switched on my headlamp and held it in my hand. I asked Natascha what happened. I actually had the wherewithal to say, "Tell me the first thing that comes to your mind. Don't think, just tell me what happened."

She said almost nothing, simply stating, "I saw a face."

Natascha later explained that she felt blocked, like it was simply impossible to tell what she had actually seen. She also tried to articulate that she was perhaps still in a lingering realm where time had a different meaning, and I was firmly in our time reality, and it created a sort of disconnect between us.

While in the tent in the moments after our screaming session, I stammered to Natascha, in a voice on the verge of panic: "Look - if we need to - we can just leave - right now - we can leave the tent set up and just drive to town and get a hotel room - we can do that if we need to..."

I was freaked-out, and it came out in my voice. This is something I would never say in any normal circumstance.

She asked me, "Do you believe in evil ghosts?"

I thought carefully and replied, "No." My response was less out of honesty, and more an attempt to keep the mood from getting any scarier.

At some point I looked at my watch, and it was only 11:40 PM. My reaction was, oh sh*t, it's so early and now we have to worry about scary stuff for the rest of the night!

I had one arm over Natascha as we lay there. We sat in silence for a short time, we must have spoken a little, but I can’t remember anything of what we said. Perhaps we were both silent. I know my heart was pounding, and my thoughts seemed trapped in a kind of horror.

I lay there thinking, "This is f*cking terrifying. This is insane. How could I EVER camp out here? How could I ask for this kind of f*cking sh*t!" My mind was spiraling out of control.

I ended up chanting a repetitive mantra in my head, "Love and Light, Love and Light, Love and Light..." Over and over and over. This is how Anya Briggs ends her emails, and it might seem corny, but I really MEANT it!

At one point I put my arm back in my own sleeping bag and promptly fell asleep. I have to say it seems weird as I write this that I could slip back into sleep after being SO freaking' terrified. It seems impossible that we could both simply doze off again.

Later that same night I had a dream. This was a weirdly vivid dream. It took place inside the same tent, no dreamlike distortion, it was very accurate to the interior of the tent. (see the illustration above) I'll add that this dream was NOT scary in the least, it was curiously void of any emotion - good or bad.

I saw a big round mandala figure up and too my left, situated in a very specific point in the tent. It was a simple circle about the size of a large pizza with a lone dot in it's center. It looked very much like the blurry cataract image in my right eye, and strangely flat unlike a 3D orb. (more on that below).

Then I was floating up off the floor of the tent. The elevator-up sensation of slowly up rising felt strangely familiar (more HERE). I thought to myself, "I need to remember this - I need to remember this - I need to remember this..."

Then the the environment of the tent changed to a backdrop of white light. I thought, "Am I on a table? Am I on a table?" I didn't understand where I was. It was a mysterious realm with a uniform white glow around me. Was I on my back? Was I upright?

The dream abruptly ended when Natascha spoke up and said, "Mike, you are floating!" I don't think she actually said this, but I remember it clearly in that dream state. Her words sort of pulled me back down onto the sleeping pad, and the dream ended.

The next morning we immediately began to talk about the events of the night and more details emerged.

I asked Natascha what she saw that made her scream, and she explained that she saw a face within a circle. I pressed her for more details and she said, "I can’t say, but the only thing that seems to match is that drawing you did, of the face in the circle from your blog." [ link ]

This was very curious, she didn't know about my dream yet, and she described something very similar to the round mandala I saw. The way it looked to me was like the image I see in my right eye.

I asked where the face was positioned, at the time I assumed it was directly over her, centered above her face. She instead pointed up and off to her left, at an area in the wall of the tent - exactly where I saw the glowing circle in my dream. Again, I hadn't shared the events of my dream yet. More weirdness about this mandala shape HERE.

Notes from my small sketchbook, written the morning after the experience in the tent.

What actually might have happened is very difficult to say. I cannot dismiss the irrational fear that overcame both of us. This feeling of terror was entirely different than any emotion I have ever experienced, amplified in a way that seems extraordinary. I must have sensed something beyond a jolt of surprise when Natascha woke me with a short scream.

What is even more bizarre was the extremely vivid nature of my dream, along with the matching details to whatever Natascha witnessed. This is also extremely curious.


NOTE: I modified the swear words so the automatic blog format doesn’t add a extra blocking window when readers try and log on.

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Part TWO to this story inked HERE

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Follow-up posting:
There was an odd mark on my chest that appeared, as far as I can tell, from this experience in the tent. Click HERE for more on this disturbing story.

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Mac Tonnies and friends yukking it up in Wyoming

Additional info added Jan 28, 2012:

I found this image on-line, it was posted by a member of the film-crew from Canada that traveled with Mac in 2009 to produce a documentary for CBC television. I was struck by the orb in the photo, and it immediately reminded me of the floating mandala shape I saw inside the tent. Now, this floating orb in the photo could be nothing more than a speck of dust in front of the camera, but who knows? I am sceptical of these kinds of orb photos, but I suspect that some of them represent a genuine unknown.

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Max Ernst, The Twentieth Century, 1955

Text added Feb 11, 1012:

I found this image on a Secret Sun posting about Max Ernst. The mandala sphere in this painting seems to closely match my memory of the glowing circle in the tent.

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Text added March 13, 2013:
This experience shows up on a curious map with other odd events all lined up in a straight line in southern Utah. (linked HERE)
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Text added March 25, 2013:

In June of 2011 I had the honor to sit in as the guest host for Whitley Strieber's on-line subscribers and inter view Dr. Janet Eizebeth Colli. I had done my own interview with Dr. Colli just a month earlier. During this follow up interview we talked about this event in the tent with Natascha. This all ties back into the yellow line on the map of southern Utah, the tent experience was the Eastern most of the three points on that line (that's it's own bag of worms).

This conversation seems a little bit like a client and a therapist, where I ask for help and she shares her insights.

one-click audio download HERE

Thanks to Whitley for letting me post this 30-minute interview here on my site. His site is Unknown Country.

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audio describing the vivid lampshade dream (Laughlin 5)

Right after I had the weirdly vivid dream (from the previous post) I documented my immediate impressions into a small digital voice recorder. I'm sharing that audio, along with a little bit extra where I try and clarify some of the details.

I have no idea why this dream seems so significant.

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audio download / recorded March 5th 2010 / 14 minutes long

vivid dream and blue orb (Laughlin 4)

Glowing orange dream imagery in a pine forest at night. Click on any of these illustrations for a HI-rez close-up view.

I had a weirdly vivid dream on the night of Feb 16th. The next morning I was going to start the long drive to Laughlin Nevada for the annual UFO conference. My sleep was restless, and I had my lap top near my bed, and I listened to an audio podcast to occupy my time. Shortly after starting the podcast, I ended up asleep.

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This post has an accompanying audio file

audio download / recorded March 5th 2010 / 14 minutes long

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The dream began in a nighttime environment, and I an standing in a gravel parking lot (or gravel road) in a very distinct forest. The pine trees are evenly spaced, and there are no branches down low. The forest floor is flat without any undergrowth. I looked to my left to see a very weird orange light shining through the trees. I moved a little to get a better view, and I see that it was a simple lampshade set on the ground (or, maybe floating a few inches off the ground) and it's giving off a vibrant orange glow. Instantly, I had the thought that this was NOT a lampshade, it was some sort of hallucination, and something else was there.

Even in my dream state I clearly think about an event in a book by Dr. Karla Turner titled: INTO THE FRINGE. There was a creepy scene in that book where a witness describes seeing a “satellite dish” in his yard, but he knows it’s NOT a satellite dish, something else was there.

I look at the lampshade for just a few seconds, and then I find myself floating up off the forest floor. I rise up slow and smooth, and I think to myself: “Oh, this again.” My perception is that the experience is quite familiar, and actually very pleasant. This comforting feeling fits a pattern of what I call my reassuring dreams.

Floating above a black shape.

Soon I am levitating above the tall trees, and I am looking down into the pine forest. My floating body is positioned with a slight tilt forward, so I am sort of forced to look downward. Below me is a huge round circle, inky black against the pale orange glow in among the trees. I am above something, that I perceive to be a large saucer shaped craft, and I smoothly descend downward into the center of the circle.

Floating downward in a weirdly vibrant tube full of colorful symbols

The next thing I realize is that I am floating in a shiny glowing blue tube, slowly descending. The walls of this tube is covered with a collection of brightly colored puzzle pieces, and these are inlaid into the wall. Each of these shapes look like some sort of Egyptian hieroglyph, they seem to be made of candy colored plastic and they are back lit in a sort of frame. I’m reminded of a brightly colored child’s toy.

I'm compelled to pick out one distinct shape

I reach forward and pick out one puzzle piece, it’s as if I am drawn to this one shape. I hold it in my hand and examine it closely, it is shaped like a stylized “W” and I’m filled with an intense compulsion to remember it, and I focused on the outline of the shape. (more about this here!)

I continue down into the tube, and then I’m walking around in a series of blue rooms crowded with people. The rest of the dream is a little bit frenetic in it’s imagery.

The dream seems to culminate with a meeting of some sort in a daylight street scene . I'm in among a crowd of people, and there is a discussion by a small team. They are carefully explaining that everything is alright, and that there will soon be a wonderful event where UFO occupants will join us here on earth. It sounds logical and nice, but it seems a little too perfect. I approach the woman sharing the story, and tell her that I don’t believe her, that my intuition senses some sort of deception. Suddenly her eyes get big and black, and the same happens with her teammates, and she stares at me in a very threatening way. She warns me NOT to tell anyone about my feelings.

Then I wake up.

The podcast is still playing on my laptop, and I was surprised that so little time had passed given the length and complexity of my dream. I was probably asleep for less than a half hour

The dream was so intensely vivid that I did something that surprises me as I type this. I got out of bed, went downstairs and found a little digital voice recorder, and carried it back up to my bed. I lay there, under the covers, and recorded the dream as best as I could. (audio from this recording posted here)

After, describing the weird narrative, I stopped the recorder and turned off the light. In the dark I saw a small blue orb, about the size of a grapefruit floating, centered in the ceiling above my bed. I could see it for probably less than 20 seconds, and then it was gone. It disappeared quickly and smoothly. Right after it faded away, I rolled over and promptly went to sleep, an unusual reaction to seeing something so strange.

The orb was a soft focus sphere, not the flat looking image that show up on digital flash photos. It was three dimensional and glowing softly. It gave off light, but it didn't seem to light up the ceiling the way, say, a glow stick might. Could it have been something in my retina from my bedside light? Maybe, but I've slept in that room for over 16 years and I've never seen anything like that before. In the follow up to the experience, I tried to recreate the experience by looking into lights in the room (including the tiny red light on the voice recorder) and then shut the lights off, these attempts didn't come close to what I saw that night. 

This orb image is from a the homepage of a person I met during the final hours of the Laughlin conference. Her name is Jill and she is a channel. I found it on her web page, minutes after posting this essay.

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NOTE: This post has an accompanying audio file, found HERE.

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thoughts on the image in my eye

Part ONE to this story linked HERE 

I posted that story below, about the curious little face in my vision, with a lot of trepidation.

Part of the reason I put it on-line was because I knew that Mac Tonnies would have been delighted by it. Really, he would have added a comment straight away, I know it. He would have said something like: “Wow, that is SO weird!”

And it is.

I totally realize the thing is just a curious image caused by light as it passes thru the small milky cataracts in my right eye. Seeing the face is no different than seeing a teddy bear shape in a cloud. I know this.

I’ve told a lot of my friends about my curious memories, and (pretty much) they have all been supportive and encouraging. Sometimes, they will respond thoughtfully, telling me that maybe everybody has these experiences, and for some reason I actually notice them. Maybe I try and add deeper meaning to them. That has the ring of truth to it, and I take it to heart. This psychological phenomenon even has a name, Pareidolia.

Two nights before I first noticed this weird image in my eye, I did something I do often. I slept out under the stars deep in the backountry of Joshua Tree National Park. I asked the universe for help, and then I went to sleep. I’ve had some powerful results to this kind of request, but I awoke that morning with out any dreams. But less than 24 hours later I saw this image. Am I projecting too much meaning onto something totally normal? Undoubtely.

Also, I had just spent two days at Whitley Strieber’s DREAMLAND conference. William Henry had a really cool presentation (with LOTS of images) about how there are clues in ancient texts and paintings that man can achieve a light-body. He had multiple images of Jesus and Buddha in a rainbow ring, or halo - or a star gate.

And this little face seemed to have that exact same colorful ring around it. Now I’m making an analogy to this little face and Jesus. Am I spiraling into some delusional place of false self importance? I don’t think so, I just thought it was really interesting.

Just so y'know, when I first saw that glimmering little face, out on the grass in a park in Pasadena, my initial reaction was: “Damn! Now I’m gunna have to draw this thing and put it on my stupid blog, and everybody will think I've gone totally nuts!”

Part of me wanted to delete this post, and I almost did, until I received this comment:

"If more people reported their personal observations of the many crazy things I suspect we all experience, I think we'd agree to collectively broaden our limitations on what constitutes sanity. As most choose silence due to fear of judgment, our perceptions of what is normal or even possible from other human beings is censored and distorted."

YES! What she said! If only people as a collective whole could all agree to just stop ignoring "it," --think how much higher up the ladder of consciousness we'd all be.

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Part ONE to this story inked HERE

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Follow up:

As of December 9th I can no longer find the same image in my eyesight. I still have the effect from the cataracts in my right eye, but it doesn't look like a face anymore. It now looks like nothing more than a swirling blur.

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image within my eye

I drew the curious image as a way to try understand what I've seen. I was recently (and repeatedly) confronted with this little face. You can double click on the illustration for a high-rez view.

I am writing this with a real-deal feeling of uneasiness because it’s just so bizarre. Sharing this strange story leaves me open to (justifiable) claims that I’m delusional, paranoid, fantasy prone or just plain lying. As I write this out, I am trying to be as honest and clear as I can be.

First I need to fill you in on my eyes themselves. During the summer of ’08 I noticed some odd things in my sight, later an optometrist diagnosed me with cataracts on my right eye.

Here's a photo of my eye, taken in the doctors office, and you can see the small imperfections centered in my pupil.
Those little tiny dots are cataracts. Presently it's minimal and not much of an issue, sometimes I see a blurry halo around lights at night.

Here's how I saw the distinct image of the little face.

Last week I was laying on my back in a park in Pasadena California. It was a lovely afternoon, the sun was shining and my face was pointed upwards. You know how when you lie out in the sunshine with your eyes closed, there is a warm pink glow in your vision, you can see the light through your eyelids. Right then I was seeing that. Then I squinted, just slightly opening my eyes, because I am always amazed at the psychedelic imagery that appears as the sunshine filters thru my eyelashes. I get this curious "lens flare" and optical "blooms" that play out brilliantly in my relaxed state of concentration. Does this make sense?

Since the cataracts appeared in my right eye, these halo type blooms are slightly distorted, they show up as a doughnut shape, rather than a true circle of light. I’ve noticed this often in the last year. And as I lay out in sunshine in that park I saw, quite clearly, the image of a little face in the center of this optical effect!

I was enthralled, and I could distinctly focus on it. What I saw was much more psychedelic than I the drawing posted above. There was a vivid rainbow of colors all warped in a halo around this perfectly-defined little face.

It seemed a little bit scull like, and at the same time, it had that big-eyed alien look too.

And - strangely - it looked like ME! Bald, with big eyes. The image seemed to have big side burns too! (Okay, this is the part where you can accuse me of being delusional! ) When I do self portraits, I always seem to draw myself with giant wide-eyes. So, in a strange way, this seemed like a weirdly personal caricature.

Everything below the head was a distorted set of swirls, but to me, it looked like the tiny figure was seated in the lotus position.

Yes, I recognize how crazy this seems, and just so you know I am the type of person to see vibrant impressions of faces in clouds. I have a wood grain ceiling above my bed, and I can pick out lions, bunnies and human figures in the abstract lines. I realize I am projecting all kinds of drama into this, but this face REALLY looks like a face.

A few days later, I purposely lay myself down in Moab Utah and looked up into the sun, and it was there again, clear as can be.

Yesterday, to draw this image, I lay on my floor in my living room with a clipboard and a pencil. I faced into the sun as it shone thru a window with the same squinted eyes, and again, I saw the vivid little face. Actually drawing this image was a funny thing to attempt. I would get the image in my field of view, and then sit up and frantically draw it out, then I would lay down again, fix the image in my eye and repeat the process. I drew it with a pencil, and then later used my computer to add the color. It was difficult to render, like trying to capture the sparkling refractions in a Coke bottle back lit by a bright light.

Here’s the original pencil drawing.

Each time I’ve looked for it, the imagery has been very clear. To see it, I need to close my left eye completely. I don't need to focus on anything, it seems to be in focus all by itself. I just need to hold my head steady, and keep my gaze still. It's nothing fleeting - it's in there!

My color drawing is as exact as I feel I can be as I attempt to capture it. The real image (that only I can see) is much more psychedelic. The colorful swirling effect is due to some subtle prism refraction. It is not the result of a meditative vision, it's REALLY in there!

When I look at my drawing I see the face as a scull (or an alien, or even a demon), the drawing is decidedly darker than what I see when I look into the sun. The face I see within my own eye seems (to me) to be profoundly neutral. The drawing is, to me, quite accurate. I can’t show anyone what I am truly seeing, so this colorful sketch will have to suffice.

Believe me, I completely recognize that I am projecting big time with this. I mean, a tiny flaw on the lens of my eye creates a curious little face - and I write a 900 word essay on it? On some level, this is downright paranoid. I don't wanna go so far as to call it a mystical experience, but it is interesting, at least to me.

Also, I can’t help but think how I’m playing the role of the fool in all this. Believe me, I know it ain’t wise to look into the sun.

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As of December 9th 2009, I can no longer find the same image in my eyesight. I still have the effect from the cataracts in my right eye, but it doesn't look like a face anymore. It now looks like a swirling blur.

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Part TWO to this story linked HERE

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Even more, sacred geometry linked HERE
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five owls

A bunch more owls have shown up in my life.

Here's what happened. I just got out of the mountains in Southern Montana near Yellowstone.

I was on a 7-day trip teaching lightweight camping skills. As twilight approached, myself and a student named Peter did a water run to a nearby spring. It was a beautiful walk, and it probably took less than 20 minutes. We were talking about our lives, and the curious paranormal events that seem to flavor some of our personal experiences.

We got back to camp, and we both lay down to watch the sky. Now, this is unusual, it's something I would never do. But we both did it that evening.

Both of us were on our backs, looking up from a small meadow surrounded by dens trees. Peter is a psychiatrist and the conversation seemed to get deeper and deeper, as the sky got darker and darker.

At one point, there was a noise in the trees above us, and suddenly the small opening in the trees was filled with FIVE OWLS. Yes - FIVE OWLS!

All adult owls, approx 2 feet long, beak to tail, probably common Barred Owls.

It lasted about 10 minutes, and we were both a little bit in shock at the intensity of the sighting. At some point, as we watched them swoop above us, I asked Peter what I was talking about when the owls appeared.

He said I spoke about my mother.

I said, "Really?"

He said, "Yes, they appeared right when you mentioned your mother."

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That night I had a dream my mother was crying, and the image of her face was terribly sad. The next day I called her using a cell phone from high on an alpine ridge top. I was relieved when she said she was fine. I'll add that two years ago she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and presently her life is extremely confusing and stressful. I was worried, and it was nice to hear her voice.

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New text added March 9th 2012:

In this story I noted: "Peter did a water run to a nearby spring."

I need to add a little more to this story. We were camped in a beautiful spot, and there was a pond near our camp site. But the pond was sort of green and murky, not really the best for drinking. I had been in this area before, and I knew of a beautiful spring nearby. So, Peter and I collected all the water bottles from our teammates, there were seven of us total. We carried the empty water bottles to the spring, filled 'em up with cold clear water trickling right out of the rocks, and then took them back to camp.

This is the kind of thing I like to do, just a nice gesture at the end of a long day of hiking. Now, this altruistic act has shown up in another synchronicity (linked HERE). This isn't much of a pattern, that an altruistic act would directly proceed something odd, but I just felt it was important to share my thoughts.

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“Is that a crystal around your neck?”

I was on my bike at night in downtown Bozeman Montana looking for ice cream. It was late enough that a lot of places were closed, so I rode to the gas station at the edge of town. It was open, and I got a pint out of the freezer and went up to the counter. As I was paying the woman behind the counter looked at me oddly, and then cautiously asked me a question:

“Is that a crystal around your neck?”

I said yes.

Okay - I have been wearing a lepidolite crystal on a chain around my neck. This alone should tell you how far over the edge I’ve gone in immersing myself in this ongoing weirdness. The events surrounding this thing, the how's and the why's, would be it’s own series of nutty blog postings (someday, maybe). The story is interesting, but I’ll leave it for another time.

Back to the gas station.

The woman is extremely polite, and explains that the way the stone is mounted, the energy is leaking out the bottom. It’s a tiny egg shaped stone, and it hangs from the chain with the skinny axis going up and down. She told me that it should be set so that it’s sideways to the present axis.

I said thank you, and I took her suggestion seriously.

I got on my bike and rode down the empty main street of this little town. I had a very simple and calm feeling, and I thought to myself, “What am I supposed to make of that? Should I follow up on her recommendation?”

And - At that instant, the streetlight above me went off.

That thought, and that calm feeling seems to be a very real pattern. It comes up in a way that I don’t control, there is no stress or anxiety, they simply appear in my mind as, just a nice calm thought (and David Huggins tells of the same nice thoughts, and their relevance). I get the strong impression that I should trust these nice thoughts.

Coming to terms with these experiences has been extremely difficult. It’s been worrisome (am I insane?) and scary (WTF?). I will dwell on this quandary, and it’s unhealthy. I can get stuck in an oppressive head-space, so when these nice thoughts appear - I recognize them for what they are. At least I hope I do.
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the universe answers my plea

I’m in the midst of a very curious event, and I’m posting it, right now, as it’s unfolding.

I’ve been searching for answers, and something that seems to provide some insight involves me sleeping out under the stars. I’ve been going out into the mountains, alone, with the sole intent of asking the Universe for help. Yes, I know this sounds corny, but please keep reading.

Before I fall asleep, I’ll lay in my sleeping bag and I’ll ask out loud. I do this periodically, and I almost always get some sort of curious reply. It started in the form of VERY vivid dreams, and some are posted on this blog. Sometimes I’ll wake up, no dreams, nothing curious at all, but before noon I’ll find some other synchronistic event that seems to match my questioning. This post about the neuron-like nature of the internet is a good example, and it adds a deeper layer to this story.

Lately, I’ve been bringing a tiny hand held voice recorder. I’ll sit in my sleeping bag and record my appeal to the Universe. If I have a vivid dream in the night, I can record it as soon as I wake up.

Two days ago (Wed. July 29th) I hiked into the Tetons alone, I live close by, and I can get in quick. I just walk until it gets dark, and then I set up my sleeping bag. I know the weather around here, and I rarely set up a shelter.

Recently (and its an ongoing theme in this blog) I have been feeling lost and adrift. I’ve been trying to articulate my insecurities about what I’m dealing with, and it’s implications. It’s created a form of fatigue that is oppressive and confusing, and I’m tired of it. I want some answers.

As I hiked into the mountains on Wednesday afternoon, I rehearsed my speech, my appeal. I did this out loud. Is this prayer? I guess, maybe.

I feel comfortable hiking off-trail, and at about 10,000 feet this gets easy, you come out above tree-line and the terrain is open and lovely. I picked a direction (east) and just kept going, the sun was setting as I found an area just big enough to set my sleeping bag down. A little ledge of sorts, tucked in next to a little sub-alpine fir. There was a trickling spring nearby, and I was provided with a spectacular view of a canyon that sees visitors only rarely. I was perched above it, on a small platform of granite, watching the sun setting (in a blaze of orange) and the half moon rising. It was about 9:30 when I found my home for the night.

I ate a little something, I brushed my teeth, arranged my pad and climbed into my sleeping bag. Before zipping myself in, I spoke into my little digital audio recorder.

Yes, I recognize how perfectly mushy and New-Agey I sound. 

But this exactly reflects my deepest feeling, right then. 1 minute, 34 seconds.

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I woke up the next morning just a little before dawn. No dreams, nothing. I packed up my gear and kept going up in the calm blue-gray of the pre-dawn light. I hiked along a really pretty ridge system as the sun came up, climbed a nice peak, and then turned around, heading west, and made my way (off trail) back to my car. I got to the parking lot at about noon, and back to my house at about 1:PM.

 I open my email account and my heart literally stops. There, on my screen, was a Facebook friend request from Mike Lewis (a pseudonym for privacy). Okay - let me fill you in, Mike Lewis was with me in 1974 as we walked home on a friday night from a high school football game. If my memory is correct, at about 9:30 in the evening, we saw a strange orange flash in the sky, and I arrived home at about 11:30. Together, as best as I can figure, we experienced about 2 hours of missing time. (see this posting for more details).

I've been searching for Mike Lewis for the last three years. Unfortunately, I’ve found a large number of folks with this very common name, but I’ve been to scared to follow up and try to contact him. The last time we saw each other was probably high school graduation in 1980, that’s 29 years ago. The time of the incoming email from Mike Lewis was 9:38 PM, pretty close to the same time I spoke my emotional plea into that little recorder from my sleeping bag.

I ask the Universe for help and it answers me. This is a repeat of the single most important story on this blog. Please read the events surrounding Cindy Gail, and her reappearance in my life. The orange Flash and missing time took place in Cindy Gail front yard. The Facebook friend request. The exactness of the time. And both are an overt answer to a deep need in me. Okay - as I write this I am a little bit freaked-out.

Why can’t this feel peaceful and fun? Instead it’s welling up as a stifling quandary.

My next task as a human on planet earth is to “confirm this friend request.” But I’m frozen and scared. More soon.

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Added text on Sept. 3rd 2009

I have replied to the friend request from Mike Lewis. I even had a film crew in the room as I sent the note. Since that point, we've sent a few short notes back and forth. Just pleasantries. There will be a day when I ask him about that night in 1974, but it hasn't happened yet.

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Added text on Jan. 16th 2010

I've just posted a dream where Mike Lewis makes a very curious appearance.

a shared pattern?

Over a year ago (February, 08) I was in Laughlin Nevada attending the annual UFO conference. At the time I was actively involved with the production of a documentary on the alien abduction phenomenon. My story and foggy memories are featured prominently in the footage. Alas, in the last year, the project has been on hold.

During the 8-day conference in Laughlin I sat and watched a presentation by Dolores Cannon, a researcher who uses hypnosis in her ongoing work with past-life regressions. I found her presentation quite intriguing, and I was bewildered by her findings. She has been receiving fascinating information through her hypnosis subjects. There has been on-going communications from, quite literally, alien spirits in other dimensions. She’s written a load of books featuring these communications.

Dolores Cannon is a past-life regressionist and hypnotherapist who specializes in the recovery and cataloging of lost knowledge.
She has been a UFO investigator for over twenty years.

Midway through her talk, she described a reoccurring theme in her research. She recounted a pattern with a specific set of similarities; men in their mid-40's who have had UFO encounters in the 1970's, have a depressive episode in their 30's and now they are coming forward with their stories in a very dramatic way.

I sat there in the audience and recognized the pattern. That was ME, and I knew it.

I fit the checklist. I was 45 at the time, I saw a very vivid UFO in the nighttime sky in 1974, and I had a missing time event, also in 1974. I spent my early 30's dealing with clinical depression - and I am involved in a documentary on the UFO abduction phenomenon, where I speak openly about my memories.

When I heard Dolores say that these men, “...are coming forward with their stories in a very dramatic way,” I felt my heart sink. My involvement with the documentary certainly seemed to fit the definition of dramatic.

After the presentation I went up to talk with Dolores at her book signing table. She is a very sweet grandmother character, and she was very easy to approach. I said hello, and then I asked her about that “pattern” of men she described during her presentation.

She was strangely dismissive, and she seemed to evade my question. This took me by surprise, and I pressed her a little bit, but her reaction made me uncomfortable. After that I backed away. I was embarrassed and I didn’t know why.

In the months that followed I was haunted by her statements during the presentation, and her odd reaction to my question. Something bugged me about it, and from that point on I kept a lookout for anyone who fit that pattern.

In October of that same year (2008) I went to another conference in New Jersey. It was put on by Jeremy Vaeni and a crew of East-coast experiencers called the CULTURE OF CONTACT.

During my time there I met David Biedny, one of the hosts of an excellent online audio podcast called THE PARACAST. I was a regular listener to the show, and I recognized David’s voice in the small crowd. We talked and shared some stories. I was very familiar with David’s paranormal experiences, because he had shared them on his show. I also guessed (from comments on the show) that we were about the same age. I told him about the Dolores Cannon presentation, and the “pattern” she described.

David was 46, the same age as me, he had a dramatic UFO sighting in Venezuela in 1974, he has a history of depression - and - he was coming forward in a dramatic way, by sharing his stories on his podcast.

I asked him when he got inspired to do the audio program.

He replied, “About two and a half years ago.”

That was the same as me, I was inspired to begin the documentary about two and a half years earlier. We both told curious stories about actual the genesis of our projects. It was strange, and I felt like we bonded in a really nice way.

A little while later at that same conference, we all went into the main theater to watch a documentary. The lights went down, and I sat in the dark for the next 90 minutes watching a very insightful overview of the UFO abduction phenomenon.

As the film unfolded I became more and more bewildered. This film was almost exactly the premise that I proposed for my documentary project. I had written a 2-page proposal that I gave to the producer in 2006 describing my vision for the film. Later, the producer convinced me to change the focus from the points in the proposal. He was adamant that the narrative of the film should focus on me - and my memories. (That’s a story for a future posting)

The documentary looked like it was created using the bulleted points from my 2006 proposal. Here is an excerpt from that document:

The vision of this project would be to avoid any temptation to present the people involved within the framework of a scary movie. The presentation should be serious and respectful to the subjects, they should tell their story in the full light of day. The narrative must unfold with the idea that something is happening, and to simply let people tell their story.

This was exactly the respectful tone in this excellent documentary. I was enormously impressed, and the film managed to include a lot of information that isn’t normally covered in the standard exploitative TV productions we see late at night on cable.

I’ll add that David Huggins gets interviewed in this movie.

The documentary ends and lights come up in the theater. I was shocked, it felt like a mere 15 minutes had elapsed, but the documentary was an hour and a half long.

I went into the lobby, and there was the film maker (I’ll call him Joe, not his real name) and I went right up to him. I feel like some of my social niceties had faded away, and after I introduced myself, I simply blurted out some questions.

I asked, “How old are you?”

Joe replied, “47.”

“Have you had any of your own experiences with this phenomenon?”

“Oh yes.”

“Any history of depression?”

“Yes.”

Right then, I felt like I had fallen down the rabbit hole.

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Okay - I had just met two men, in the same room, who matched the “pattern” that Dolores Cannon described. (and yes, I know, it was at a UFO conference) But there was something nagging at me about that presentation in Laughlin, and what she said. It bugged me, and I needed an answer.

In January of this year (2009) I went on-line and found that I could easily order DVD’s of the presentations from the Laughlin UFO conferences. I put $19.95 on my credit card and a week later the disc arrived in my mailbox. I opened the envelope and put it in my DVD player and watched all 90 minutes of it. And then I watched it again.

And - She NEVER says it.

Huh? Okay, this wigged me out. She does NOT tell of the pattern I remember vividly her saying. She does described other patterns, but nothing that matches what I recalled.

Oh jeeez, what do I make of this?

The DVD is definitely the same presentation I sat through. As far as I can tell, no dialogue was edited out, and I recognized people in the audience that asked questions at the end. This was, most assuredly, from the exact same 2008 conference.

Am I insane? I asked myself that repeatedly. I’m still not sure how to answer that.

The story continues.

At this year’s 2009 Laughlin conference I met a fellow named “John Smith” (a pseudonym) and he was 48 years old, and he’s been dealing with ongoing abduction events, and he is the subject of a documentary. He told me, "I used to get depressed a lot." His story involves the surgical removal of an extremely strange implant by Dr. Roger Lear.

I'll add that he is a scientist working at the cutting edge of nano-technology, focusing on extremely tiny carbon-tubes. And the implant that was removed from his toe was shown to reveal advanced nano-carbon-tubes.

(click here for an excellent audio interview)

Later, after I started this blog, I began an e-mail dialogue (and a phone call) with fellow blogger Michael MacDonald. He’s 47, he directed a documentary on the alien abduction phenomenon in 2007, he began a blog in 2009, he’s experienced curios paranormal incidents and occasional bouts of mild depression. Okay, this is the WEIRDEST thing to me - Michael and myself started our BLOGs (before meeting each other) less than 24 hours apart! And, we both have beautiful Scottish last names.

I posted a story about the funny similarities between myself and Michael MacDonald, and less than 24 hours after that went on-line I received a comment from a fellow named Dave (a pseudonym).

His note to me starts with, “I must say I'm LITERALLY shaking from the synchronicity.”

Dave goes on to explain that he is 47 years old, he has started a documentary project on crop circle (and abduction) researcher Barbara Lamb, he’s beginning a pod-cast in 2009 interviewing abductees, he’s had on-going experiences that seems to imply some sort of abduction events, he has a history of depression - and - he has a beautiful Scottish last name.

Okay - I’m trying to keep this all clear, not just to you the reader, but to myself.

In less than a year I've met FIVE people, each under curious circumstances who fit that elusive Dolores Cannon checklist, a list that was plainly spoken in my imagination.

I clearly heard her, but she never said it.

Somehow this defined pattern entered my memory through a cute grandmother who channels information from alien spirits in other dimensions.

I share a bunch of other curious similarities with these five men. I feel like I should make up some sort of flow chart to try and quantify and list the weird overlapping of identical factors.

I recently told this (long winded) story to two pals in a tent in Alaska. At the end I asked, "Does this seem weird to you? Because it seems weird to me." They both treated me as ridiculous that I would even ask that question.

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* David - Age 46, began pod-casting about his experiences in 2007, he had a vivid UFO sighting in 1974, life-long experiencer of high-strangeness, history of depression.

* “Joe” - Age 47, directed a documentary on the alien abduction phenomenon in 2007, life-long experiencer, history of depression.

* Michael - Age 47, directed a documentary on the alien abduction phenomenon in 2007, began a paranormal focused blog in March 2009, life-long paranormal events, occasional mild depression. Beautiful Scottish last name.

* "Dave" - Age 47, began a documentary project on (alien abductee) Barbara Lamb in 2008, beginning a pod-cast in 2009 interviewing abductees, on-going contact events, history of depression. Beautiful Scottish last name.

* And, "John Smith" - Age 48, subject of a documentary project in 2008, on-going contact and abduction events, history of depression.

* Mike Clelland (myself) - Age 46, began a documentary on the alien abduction phenomenon in 2007, began a paranormal focused blog in March 2009, on-going paranormal events, a vivid UFO sighting in 1974, history of clinical depression. Beautiful Scottish last name.

Text added Jan 2013
I have been keeping an on-going list of people who fit this pattern. I really haven't been digging to find them, they just seem to appear as I proceed forward into other parts of my research. Presently, I am up to 44 people.

And, here is an essay (linked HERE) written by one someone born in 1962 and it involves meeting someone born in 1962.
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Text added Feb 23, 2013
This was originally posted on June 2, 2009. June 2nd reads as 6/2 or '62.

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