My Greatest Fear

It’s the end of another decade, and a time like the late eighties when, if things were to fall together right, the visitors might become a more public presence in our world.

So I have been thinking a great deal about what this may mean. On the one hand, I look back on my own experiences and I reflect that, as hard as it was, I got a lot out of it in terms of knowledge.

I know that, intentionally or not, they have been creating irreconcilable questions in the minds of many millions of people, and that, if they do begin coming into close proximity to these people, the hyperconscious state of mind that I wrote about in my last journal will be activated.

However, I also know that the grays are just radically different from us. I mean, incredibly different. Unimaginably different. It’s not that they are more intelligent, I don’t think, but that they have had the level of mind that we are just beginning to touch on for a very long time, as a result of which they see reality quite differently.

Some years ago, I heard about a brief paper that had allegedly been written in 1954 warning of a possible danger involving them that remains unproven and little understood.

In the early fifties, the government was divided between people like Curtis LeMay, who essentially saw them as demons and hell as a real place, and the more secular view held, for example, by Truman, who viewed them as creatures who were most probably from Venus.

One thing united everybody who was aware of their existence: it was expected that an invasion was imminent. To counter this, a crash program was created to finish the F-86D, the first fighter incorporating all-rocket armament. (Milton Torres was flying an F-86D when he was ordered to attempt to shoot down a UFO over Norfolk, England in 1957.)

Across the late fifties and into the sixties, overt UFO activity gradually declined, and the invasion that was originally feared never happened.

Perhaps an invasion was never intended, but there is a possibility that it was, and the reason that it did not happen could be quite unusual.

It is my belief that the 1954 paper hypothesized that the mind is responsible for the way reality assembles itself, that, when the reality is perceived, what is essentially a neutral field becomes the world as understood by the mind perceiving it.

It also hypothesized that the visitors could not enter our reality in numbers as long as most people did not include them as an actual, physical possibility, and that government admission of their existence would probably be a trip-wire that would open a door to them that could never be closed.

The paper is hypothetical. It may not be correct. But there is no way to test it except for the government to take the step of admitting that the visitors are real–and that door, once opened in the mind of man, can never be closed again.

If this is true, then the whole vast theater of UFO sightings, close encounters, crop formations–all of it–could be seen as a sort of military action by the visitors that is designed to circumvent government denial, and create such general belief that they can open the door, as it were, from their side.

I don’t know any more than anybody else does what it would mean if the grays were walking our streets. I do know that the mind definitely DOES change when one is around them. Reality itself changes. I know this because I have lived it.

Once, when I was living in Texas, I had about fifteen minutes of more-or-less conscious contact with a gray. During this time, an attempt was made to give me an injection that would supposedly suppress the allergic reaction we have to them without suppressing consciousness. (This allergic reaction is only partly physical. It is intensified by the extreme stressed involved, which is one reason that people are ‘edited’ with missing time when they are around the grays, so that the stress response will not exacerbate the allergic reaction and cause it to run out of control.)

In any case, the apartment’s appearance changed while we were together. What had seemed like a perfectly clean little condo came to appear more like some sort of animal burrow. I became aware of the crooked lines, the rickety furniture, even of the swarming bacteria, the dust mites, the moving insects, and then of forms that we normally don’t see at all, which were moving in speeding patterns across the walls and ceiling.

A moment later, there was a quick plunge either into the real future or some possible future, or perhaps a parallel universe, or some sort of situation for which we don’t even have words.

Then, the next thing I knew, the radio was playing. It was morning. In fact, it was a Sunday. I thought that the radio was tuned to some sort of foreign station, because I couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

When I tried to take a shower, I discovered that I had no sensation in my skin. I felt like a human tent, with the water pummeling me, but no sensation of heat or cold at all.

I feared that this would be permanent, but by the end of the shower, sensation had, in fact, returned. When I came out, though, the radio was still playing gibberish. Anne was awake and she greeted me, and I was appalled to hear that I couldn’t understand her.

I remembered the encounter perfectly well, and I feared that it had given me a stroke. However, over the next few minutes, as I dressed in silence, afraid to utter a word, I gradually began to understand the radio again.

Then it came time to go to church. Now, we were living in a neighborhood where I had grown up. I was familiar with every street. But when I attempted to drive to the church, I became completely disoriented and ended up almost driving onto a runway at the airport. As Anne does not drive much at all, she couldn’t help me get home. But, once again gradually, I regained my orientation. We never got to church, but at least we got home.

For an even more extreme example of what it’s like in the company of the grays, read my journal of December 15, 2007.

It is liable to be just as strange for others as it has been for me, should they ever come face to face with us. The disorientation is going to be profound, and a lot of people just are not going to manage the transition.

If I am at all right about what it will be like, our world is really, really going to change.

But there are other things that haunt me. Really haunt me. I know of at least one case, and possibly others, where people have suffered the same fate as mutilated cattle. True, it’s only a smattering of cases, and they may not be real, but it is a very worrisome sign.

I hope that, if the grays show up, we will be able to at least bear their presence. Because the other side of the coin is that they are true masters, in the deepest sense of that word.

These things worry me. They worry me a lot. I have been responsible for moving a lot of people into a space where they assume that the visitors are real, meaning that I might have helped to open the door.

And maybe we are not going to like what’s behind it. That is my greatest fear. Personally, I had every reaction to the grays that I am able to have. I felt fear, love, uplift, terror, confusion, passion–I felt and feel it all. I was deeply and profoundly challenged, but I was also protected. I was allowed to look down the rabbit hole, but they were like mother hens, always making sure that I didn’t bend over so far that I fell.

Will this be the fate of all of us if–or when–they appear?

We’ll see what 2010 brings. Probably more of the same–the waiting, the sense of something about to happen that never does. But maybe, this time, something else. UFOs ove major cities in broad daylight, large and unmistakable. Aliens suddenly strolling the streets as if they owned the place.

I don’t know what form contact might take. I can’t imagine it. Probably, nobody can.

Will this be “the year.” All I can say is that it feels more possible to me than it ever has before. That might not mean a thing.

But then again–it just might.

NOTE: This Journal entry, previously published on our old site, will have any links removed.