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Gemini and Sagittarius Axis - the Divine Father and Divine Mother

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1993 Illustration by Credo Mutwa

"Their minds leak into your mind. Their ideals are able to become ours ... It is they, sir, who have instilled into our minds at this time in human history a consciousness of the oneness of the whole world." — Credo Mutwa interviewed by Dr. John Mack, December 10, 1995

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Abductees sometimes have to go beyond everyday language to capture the overwhelming nature of the contact with the beings' eyes. Whitley Strieber called his first experiences of this "terror absolute, annihilating catastrophe of spirit. It seems to be just obliterating when you connect." "These eyes," Credo told us, "if you look into them, you don't see detail like the beautiful eyes of a human being. You just see this eternity, this emptiness, this void of a creature whose thoughts are so completely unimaginable that there is no expression." For Celeste, "These eyes are radiant, illuminating and fully embracing. Just as you peel back layers of memory and experience with words that twist into the mind with surgical precision, the eyes strip you to the bare soul."

— Concerning the pitch black eyes of the Grays, John E. Mack, M.D., Passport to the Cosmos

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Deer, raccoons, cats, panthers, owls, eagles, snakes, and spiders are among the animals that abductees have encountered in their experiences. Often their recollection that the eyes were somehow too prominent or large for the particular animal may give the first clue that another kind of being was represented in this particular form. In our first session, Carol remembered an owl that came down to her from the skies, but with further questioning we found out that the owl hovered close to her face, its wings did not seem to flap, and its "big dark eyes" took up "three quarters" of the head. "This is a mutant owl or something," she remarked dryly.

I asked Bernardo Peixoto whether there was a relationship between the gray alien beings (in his tribe they are called ikuyas) that abduction experiencers may initially encounter in animal form, and the power animals that connect the human and animal worlds among traditional peoples. "It is just exactly the same, John, there's no doubt about it," he replied. "When we ask them [the ikuyas] in some ceremony that they come and show themselves to us in the form of animals, they do, and some of them come always in the same form to us." For example, he said, "people that have the black panther as the power animal, always when they are doing the ceremonies they see a black panther. That's the same humanoid in the form of a panther." The beings seem to take a form that is familiar to human beings, Bernardo explained — perhaps the animal spirit with which the person is most connected.

— Concerning the Grays, John E. Mack, M.D., Passport to the Cosmos

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Carol and I devoted several sessions to examining a particularly vivid and disturbing terror "dream" that had occurred several months before we first met. In this "dream" an owl image played a prominent role. She was lying on a grassy mound or hillside, unable to move as she watched a small speck in the sky that seemed to be spiraling down toward her. She felt a wind, heard a high-pitched buzzing sound, and saw bright light around her. As the object seemed to come closer, it appeared to be an owl, and she felt a mixture of fear and awe. She turned her head and saw what looked to be a typical shaman, with a heavy fur robe and an antlered headpiece. Carol took this to be Cernunnos, an ancient Celtic deity, half animal and half person, that presides over the animals of the forest.

As the owl from the sky came closer, Carol realized that it seemed much too large for an owl — its black eyes were at least four inches across, and it had no other owllike features, such as feathers or a beak. Next she recalled feeling a heavy weight on her mouth and chest, as if a pillow were pressed down upon her, and she had difficulty breathing. Then the experience seemed to "escalate” quickly into a negative one, and she woke up panicked and wheezing, her heart pounding and sweat pouring off her body.

Carol and I went over the same ground in a relaxation exercise that enabled her to relive the experience more clearly. This time the light seemed to be blindingly bright and to have a pressure of its own. The grass was brown and dried, and the ground seemed rough and "very hard." The owl now seemed to be a source of light, grayish white, and without animation. As it spiraled closer, it clearly had no wings and was huge, many feet across. It was the "shaman," standing right to the side of her, that now seemed to have the dark eyes, and she began to cry as she realized that she had been mistaken in thinking it was Cernunnos or even a shaman at all. "He’s phony!" she exclaimed bitterly. "He's not what I'm seeing. It’s not him. He’s not a shaman! He’s not Celtic. He’s not prehistoric, and I'm uncomfortable and I can’t breathe!"

I said I was sorry and encouraged Carol to relax and breathe deeply, as she sobbed more intensely. "Something that was very important to me" and "wonderful" had been taken away. "It's like the facade disappears," she lamented. What seemed to frighten and disturb her most at this point was the seeming impersonality and loss of control. "It’s like bringing your cat to the vet," she said — "that wild look that an animal has." She complained further about the apparent betrayal and deception that she felt had been imposed upon her. The "mesmerizing" or "awe-inspiring" scene was not really that way. The "owl" was not an animal at all, and she was no longer outside on a hill. Instead she felt panic in the presence of a familiar being who stood over her "watching and controlling."

— Concerning the Grays, John E. Mack, M.D., Passport to the Cosmos

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Zandark, Orthon, Ashtar, Xeno, Cold, and all their cronies have been leading many of us around by the noses for centuries. First they convince us of their honesty, reliability, the accuracy of their predictions, and their well-meant intentions. Then they leave us sitting on a hilltop waiting for the world to blow up.

When the world was sparsely populated and the signals from the superspectrum were not smothered in so much static from the lower spectrum, men learned to place great faith in these entities and their prophecies. Priests, scholars, and magicians achieved a marvelous understanding of the cosmos and the cosmic forces through astrology, alchemy, and the magical manipulation of matter. But as man followed the angelic dictate, "Multiply and replenish the earth," our planet began to suffer from psychic pollution. The record on that great phonograph in the sky cracked and stuck in a single groove...single groove...single groove...single...

— John Keel, The Mothman Prophecies

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The Philosopher’s Stone, mentioned in every alchemical work, was considered the key to creating gold through transmutation, but it also symbolized immortality and perfection. It may be looked upon as a token of physical immortality, but it also epitomizes the deathlessness of the soul. Its creation is often considered the crowning achievement of alchemy.

— Sarom Gabriyell, The Art of Alchemy

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She said something even stranger, Which causes me great horror: That the Devil became a man And took ardent lustful pleasure With her. Oh, God, what horror! Great God, what a strange couple! O true God, Jesus, what a transgression! The woman is married to the Devil!

— Martin Lefranc, Le Champion des dames (1441)

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Here stands the stone from heaven, 'Tis very cheap in price! The more it is despised by fools, The more loved by the wise.

— Arnaldus de Villanova

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November 12, 1980: Voyager 1 made its closest approach to Saturn, flying within 124,000 kilometers (77,000 miles) of the ringed planet.

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Eye of God

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As I sat there in Southwold overlooking the German Ocean, I sensed quite clearly the earth's slow turning into the dark. The huntsmen are up in America, wrote Thomas Browne in the Garden of Cyrus and they are already past their first sleep in Persia. The shadow of the night is drawn like a black veil across the earth, and since almost all creatures, from one meridian to the next, lie down after the sun has set, so, he continues, one might, in following the setting sun, see on our globe nothing but prone bodies, row upon row, as if leveled by the scythe of Saturn – an endless graveyard for a humanity struck by falling sickness. I gazed farther and farther out to sea, to where the darkness was thickest and where there extended a cloudbank of the most curious shape, which I could barely make out any longer, the rearward view, I presume, of the storm that had broken over Southwold in the late afternoon. For a while, the topmost summit regions of this massif, dark as ink, glistened like the icefields of the Caucasus, and as I watched the glare fade I remembered that years before, in a dream, I had once walked the entire length of a mountain range just as remote and just as unfamiliar. It must have been a distance of a thousand miles or more, through ravines, gorges and valleys, across ridges, slopes and drifts, along the edges of great forests, over wastes of rock, shale and snow. And I recalled that in my dream, once I had reached the end of my journey, I looked back, and that it was six o'clock in the evening. The jagged peaks of the mountains I had left behind rose in almost fearful silhouette against a turquoise sky in which two or three pink clouds drifted. It was a scene that felt familiar in an inexplicable way, and for weeks it was on my mind until at length I realized that, down to the last detail, it matched the Vallüla massif, which I had seen from the bus, through eyes drooping with tiredness, a day or so before I started school, as we returned home from an outing to the Montafon. I suppose it is submerged memories that give to dreams their curious air of hyper-reality. But perhaps there is something else as well, something nebulous, gauze-like, through which everything one sees in a dream seems, paradoxically, much clearer. A pond becomes a lake, a breeze becomes a storm, a handful of dust is a desert, a grain of sulphur in the blood is a volcanic inferno. What manner of theatre is it, in which we are at once playwright, actor, stage manager, scene painter and audience?

— W.G. Sebald, The Rings of Saturn

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Psychic Questing

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Whoever knows this mysterious image will be a well-provided Akh-spirit Always will he leave and enter again the Duat, and speak to the living, A true remedy, (proven) a million times.

— Book of What is in the Amduat, 961

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The secret ways of Rostau The gate of the gods Only one whose voice is heard May pass them … The secret way to which Anubis has access In order to conceal the body of Osiris.

— Between the third and fourth Hours of the Duat