Sedona Journal of Emergence
October 1992
Reality or Fantasy
I was sitting outside on the balcony sipping sparkling raspberry water when I noticed three beings at my arcadia door peering at me from the inside out. When I focused more clearly, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was my reptilian friend, Ekman, with two of his space partners. They dematerialized themselves in a golden light and came through the door. Ekman sat down in the empty chair beside mine while his friends sat like two green bookends on either side of the narrow balcony ledge. I asked the two strangers their names, and without the slightest hesitation, the one to my right responded, "Holo," and the one to my left said, "Ukra."
I leaned over toward Ekman who, by that time, had managed to place his rather scaly, clawed hand into mine. Casually, I asked him what he and his friends had been doing. He answered matter-of-factly that they were out sweeping density particles over the third meridian in the north, somewhere near England. A simplistic explanation of the procedure was that it was to allow for the penetration of more light in a district that was sorely in need of such assistance.
Ukra, the taller of the two companions, asked about my frame of mind and I briefly stated that I was struggling with jealousy at the moment. Naturally, taking advantage of his presumed wisdom in viewing human concerns, I asked for his advice. He replied that I could try to examine closely the object of my jealousy and place myself inside that detached facet of myself. I promised I would take his words as food for thought.
Then the two partners excused themselves in a rather timely fashion, as they must have sensed my uneasiness with this unusual encounter. I was sorry though, that I did not get a chance to converse more with Holo. I especially enjoyed looking at the greenish-blue tufts of scaly skin that formed kind of sunburst around his face. If we meet again, I will remember to compliment him on such an outstanding feature.
Then they both stood up on the ledge, looking as if they were going to jump, and disappear in a small display of golden-white. I was left sitting on the balcony with Ekman at my side and feeling more and more uncomfortable with this recent human/reptilian encounter.
It was then that I inquired of Ekman whether this whole experience was a reality or fantasy. I pleaded with him in a quiet way, insisting that my sanity was at stake. And I tried to bargain with him for some tangible proof that he and his friends were indeed real. He allowed me my anxiety and humored me when I asked for some type of occurrence as proof, such as the appearance of a shooting star in the sky. Then he told me to go to the balcony wall and to look at one particular star.
I did as he instructed and waited with great anticipation for the wonderful stellar display that was about to come into view. I noticed many things—planes flying about, possible constellations, twinkling astral bodies—but not one shooting star. When I looked over my shoulder to ask Ekman when this "call to my sanity" in the form of a celestial happening was to occur, all I saw was an empty white garden chair.
I continued to gaze up at that one star, still curious about my psychological state and hoping that my expectations would be fulfilled. Finally, feeling slightly confused and disappointed, I turned toward the arcadia door and walked past the empty chairs to go inside.
Was this experience a reality or fantasy, I repeatedly asked myself. And, amidst my mental ruminations, I heard a faint chuckle and a little voice that whispered, "You know, you know."
October 1992
Reality or Fantasy
I was sitting outside on the balcony sipping sparkling raspberry water when I noticed three beings at my arcadia door peering at me from the inside out. When I focused more clearly, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was my reptilian friend, Ekman, with two of his space partners. They dematerialized themselves in a golden light and came through the door. Ekman sat down in the empty chair beside mine while his friends sat like two green bookends on either side of the narrow balcony ledge. I asked the two strangers their names, and without the slightest hesitation, the one to my right responded, "Holo," and the one to my left said, "Ukra."
I leaned over toward Ekman who, by that time, had managed to place his rather scaly, clawed hand into mine. Casually, I asked him what he and his friends had been doing. He answered matter-of-factly that they were out sweeping density particles over the third meridian in the north, somewhere near England. A simplistic explanation of the procedure was that it was to allow for the penetration of more light in a district that was sorely in need of such assistance.
Ukra, the taller of the two companions, asked about my frame of mind and I briefly stated that I was struggling with jealousy at the moment. Naturally, taking advantage of his presumed wisdom in viewing human concerns, I asked for his advice. He replied that I could try to examine closely the object of my jealousy and place myself inside that detached facet of myself. I promised I would take his words as food for thought.
Then the two partners excused themselves in a rather timely fashion, as they must have sensed my uneasiness with this unusual encounter. I was sorry though, that I did not get a chance to converse more with Holo. I especially enjoyed looking at the greenish-blue tufts of scaly skin that formed kind of sunburst around his face. If we meet again, I will remember to compliment him on such an outstanding feature.
Then they both stood up on the ledge, looking as if they were going to jump, and disappear in a small display of golden-white. I was left sitting on the balcony with Ekman at my side and feeling more and more uncomfortable with this recent human/reptilian encounter.
It was then that I inquired of Ekman whether this whole experience was a reality or fantasy. I pleaded with him in a quiet way, insisting that my sanity was at stake. And I tried to bargain with him for some tangible proof that he and his friends were indeed real. He allowed me my anxiety and humored me when I asked for some type of occurrence as proof, such as the appearance of a shooting star in the sky. Then he told me to go to the balcony wall and to look at one particular star.
I did as he instructed and waited with great anticipation for the wonderful stellar display that was about to come into view. I noticed many things—planes flying about, possible constellations, twinkling astral bodies—but not one shooting star. When I looked over my shoulder to ask Ekman when this "call to my sanity" in the form of a celestial happening was to occur, all I saw was an empty white garden chair.
I continued to gaze up at that one star, still curious about my psychological state and hoping that my expectations would be fulfilled. Finally, feeling slightly confused and disappointed, I turned toward the arcadia door and walked past the empty chairs to go inside.
Was this experience a reality or fantasy, I repeatedly asked myself. And, amidst my mental ruminations, I heard a faint chuckle and a little voice that whispered, "You know, you know."
